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“Can we talk about it?” he asked as soon as he returned to their bedchamber that night.

She shook her head.  She’d been waiting for him.  Despite being unable to nap earlier today.  “I don’t want to talk about it right now.  Come.”  She patted the bed next to her.  “Let me tell you your story.”

“My story?” He quirked a dark eyebrow as he sidled around the bed to come sit next to her.

She laughed breathlessly.  “Yes.  It is your story.  You were right when you called it such.  The story of the king.”

“It’s uncanny,” he muttered.

She glanced up at him sharply.  “What is?”

“How perfectly you characterized me.  Even before you knew me.  And how many details of my life had been correctly played out in your imagination.”

She wrinkled her white brow as she peered up at him.  “Like what?”

“Like the flower.”

“The flower?” she asked in surprise.

He nodded.  “Whenever I snuck into the palace, I would leave a flower to alert my mother of my presence.”

She gasped.  “You really did that?”  Her eyes were round as saucers now.

“Yes.”

“Wow.  What else was real?”

“I told Hwa Gong that I wanted to work with him to bring down the queen dowager.”  It seemed safe enough to admit now.  Especially since his mother was gone.  And he was now the king.  Established on his throne.

“No,” she breathed in shock.

“Yes.”  He held her gaze.

“Astounding.  How on earth?” she queried.

“I have no idea.  But I am eager to hear this story that you wrote before you discovered that I’m the king.”

“I had my suspicions.”

“You did?” He cocked two eyebrows at her this time.

She nodded.  “There was so much evidence.  But I didn’t want to believe it.”

“Why not?” he frowned.

“Because I didn’t want to lose you,” she mourned.

He reached out and slid his arm around her waist and drew her close to him.  “You are not going to lose me.”

“I’ll stay in hiding.  I can live without the sunshine,” she gasped suddenly.  “But…I don’t think I can live without you.”  Not now that she’d tasted his tenderness.

She couldn’t go back to her old life of ignorance.  When she’d believed that the whole world was hard and cruel and unaccepting.  But for her one friend.  And the kind woman who had raised her.

But she’d been wrong.  Jijin was wonderful. 

Jijin.

“What do I call you now?” she queried as her eyes met his.

“Jijin.”  He grinned.  “I like it when you call me that.  No one else calls me Jijin.”

“Why did you ask me to call you Jijin?”

His smile grew wider.  “I combined my hwarang name with my title.  Ji Dwi and Jin Heung.  Jijin.”

“Ah.”

“Created especially for you.”  His lips twitched.  “I love it.”

“You do?”

He nodded.  “I adore the way you say my name,” he murmured tenderly.

“Jijin,” she whispered it.

And his grin swallowed his face whole.

“I love you.”

And that smile died a sudden and violent death as a completely different emotion overcame his countenance.  No one had ever spoken those words to him.  Nobody.  He simply stared in awe at her.  Before leaning towards her and claiming her lips with his own.  He pulled her close and indulged himself in kissing her until his heart was content.  Then he wrapped both of his arms around her and hugged her tight.

And she wondered what was going on inside his heart.  “Jijin?  What is it?”

“You’re the first person to ever speak those words to me.”

He’d just stolen her breath.  And broken her heart.

She squeezed him tight.  “I mean them, Jijin.  With all of my heart.”

“I know you do.”

They held each other for several silent moments before she whispered, “Do you want to hear my story now?”

He nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes!”

They drew away from each other, and she gave him a small smile as his arm remained threaded around her waist, holding her close to his side.