My plan to sleep next to my wife without touching her failed without delay.
While lying down, I found a topic to discuss without the risk of reaching dangering conclusions. I asked Thea about the paintings.
I had seen a couple of her works that same day, and they were absolutely horrible. It was amusing how someone as extraordinary as my Queen could be that bad at anything.
Seeing her trivial failure reminded me that she was human, not an invincible machine.
Yet, the way she tried to turn the tables around and begin a new wave of art was damn adorable.
«I'll look at them again tomorrow,» I teased her. «And I'll tell you if your soul is as transparent as you.»
Instead of glaring at me or shrugging innocently, she replied back.
«I can paint your grace's soul as well if you let me understand it.»
My brows twitched at that sound, annoyed by her polite reply. That your grace was so disturbing, but what was I expecting?
