18 January, 1369. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Where did one go to hide away, especially when you were already one of the most watched women inside a palace?
It turned out there were actually very few options.
It also turned out the tiny, dusty map store alcove in the library was less than ideal. Something about the dust and cobwebs in there that inevitably would cause Celia's eyes to itch and eventually make her sneeze.
She'd insisted Lucas take her there again regardless. They'd spent two more afternoons in there, frantically kissing and whispering.
She could tell Lucas was nervous about it and she was as well, of course. Then again, the illicit thrill of hiding was also undeniable. She could feel the hardness of his arousal under her backside, the way he shuddered when she squirmed on his lap, in that broken old armchair.
"This is going to be the death of me." he whispered as he took her earlobe between his teeth.