Olivia Martins

Dessert was simple. Sweet cream and honey-soaked fruit on delicate slices of sponge cake. I tasted vanilla and rosewater and something tart and red that made me close my eyes and hum around the bite.

Across the table, Caspian smiled like he’d been waiting for that exact sound.

“What?” I asked, licking cream from my spoon.

He shook his head, eyes soft. “Nothing. Just… close your eyes.”

I gave him a look. ...