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KIT'S EYES OPENED TO find a head of long, two-toned hair splayed across his lap like waves, impossibly perfect and temptingly soft. He didn't know when Morgana laid down on his outstretched thighs, or when either of them even fell asleep, but he could remember Morgana's stress that night and doing everything he could to calm him down.

"I don't want him to hurt you," Morgana had said.

"I won't let that happen," Kit assured.

It made his stomach flutter to think about how Morgana was so worried for him, and whenever it did, he had to scold himself. Morgana wasn't worried for Kit because he cared about him, he was worried because he was scared of Crane and scared for his people, and if Crane got in the way of their mission, heaven only knew what might happen.

Morgana was sound asleep. It was a deep enough sleep that Kit didn't know whether to be concerned or relieved, but he took advantage of his state to run his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his ears, his forehead, his neck. He'd accepted long ago that there was something there, but it wasn't until the previous morning that anger wasn't his first reaction to the Unseelie. Just once, he'd let the gentler feelings take the reins.

"He's never let anyone else do that."

The Seelie sat against the opposite wall, redoing her braids, watching Kit's  callused hands move in tender motions. She looked tired yet serene, elegant fingers weaving her lilac curls with golden jewelry.

"'Anyone else?'" he repeated.

Her smile held a touch of nostalgia. "Astyr and I are the only ones that can touch his hair like that and keep our fingers."

Though he should've been flattered, Kit instead stilled his hands in sudden fear for them. "I guess I better stop before he wakes up, then."

"I think if he wanted you to stop, you'd know it."

Right as she said it, a soft groan pushed past Morgana's lips and he rolled to his other side so his face was inches from Kit's stomach. The faery was waking up, and anxiety settled in his chest. There was no telling what Morgana's reaction would be to waking up in Kit's lap with his fingers in his hair, all he could hope for was that it wasn't deadly.

His icy eyes opened slowly, sleepy and disoriented. Kit's heart drummed faster when Morgana realized where he was, and he looked up to the prince's face. He waited for the violence, but it never came.

"I thought we were staying awake."

A smile forced its way to his face like it was waiting to come out the whole time. "That's what I thought, too."

Morgana drifted off again, just for a moment. He looked so at peace, and Kit didn't know he'd like it so much.

"You should've kept me awake."

"I didn't know I would fall asleep," Kit said. His fingers dared to return to his neck, gently stroking the soft hair there, hoping Morgana wouldn't notice.

Unfortunately, he did. His hand flew up to grip his wrist and he paused, gulping back his fear. But that was all the Unseelie did. He didn't move his hand or glare at him or call him names. It felt more like a knee-jerk reaction than actual aggression.

"Sorry," said Kit.

"No."

To Kit's surprise, Morgana's hand uncurled, releasing his wrist. When he returned to the soft, steady motion, the faery melted into it.

Giselle caught his eye from across the room, a grin splitting across her lips, one that taunted him with 'I told you so.' He supposed he should've believed her the first time. After all, she knew Morgana better than anyone else there.

Guinevere's Grail | ✓ [BOOK 2]Where stories live. Discover now