The days carried on in much the same way. Alex and Amia grew ever closer, whispering like best friends, playing like puppies, and quickly establishing a functional power structure. Alex was a genius at getting Amia to do what was best for her while making her believe it was her decision, and Zaiman grew more impressed with her skills every day.

With his government essentially working on autopilot for the most part, Zaiman made a point of keeping his mornings free to walk the grounds with Alex. He enjoyed her conversation, and the way her face would light up with pleasure when she saw something beautiful or unfamiliar. He began spending more and more time with her, even walking the halls in the evenings, hoping that she would reemerge after putting Amia to bed.

One night, about a week after she had started work, she granted his wish. Amia had been particularly demanding that day, running wild during her lessons and refusing to behave during meals or at bedtime. Exhausted, Alex finally got her down to sleep at nine o’clock. Zaiman had been pacing the balcony across from Amia’s quarters, and stopped when Alex trudged across the hall and through the arch to lean her forehead on the cool concrete rail of the balcony.

“Are you all right?” Zaiman asked.

“I will be,” Alex sighed. “I adore her, I do, but days like this always leave me aching for grown-up company, you know?”

“I understand,” Zaiman said with a smile. “During election years, I find myself aching for the company of anyone who isn’t a pompous, stuffy old politician.”

Alex grinned at him. “Then you do understand,” she said. “I’m glad.”

Zaiman strolled slowly across the balcony until he was standing beside her, his hand nearly touching hers on the rail. They looked up at the moon, each deliberately ignoring the other’s proximity.

“Do you like movies?” he asked suddenly.

“I do,” she told him. “Though, I admit I am growing a bit tired of the Pony Princess.”

Zaiman laughed at that, and she met his gaze with her glistening, moon-struck eyes. His pulse quickened, and he allowed the feeling to course through him uninhibited for a single, stolen moment.

“Well, fortunately, I am fresh out of pony movies,” he told her with a smile. “Though I did recently acquire the newest musical release. I haven’t found the time to watch it yet—mostly because I despise watching films alone. Would you care to join me?”

“I’d love to,” she told him. “That sounds like the perfect way to decompress from a day like this.”

She took his arm and he led her to his media room, which was set up like a miniature theater with far more comfortable seating. They sat close together on the couch and he cued up the film, lowering the lights. In the dim moments before the movie began to play, he was overwhelmed with the desire to touch her fragrant hair and stroke her soft skin.

It took everything he had to restrain himself, and soon, to his relief, the movie began to play. The bright colors and talented dancers captured his attention, and he was pleased to discover that it was more comedy than drama. What pleased him more were her reactions to the film; she appeared to be utterly enraptured by it.

“What did you think?” he asked when it was over.

“Oh, I loved it,” she said, clasping her hands happily. “It was wonderful. I could watch movies like that over and over again, you know? Straight comedies lose their humor after a few watches, and dramas make me impatient after I know how they work out, but this…they put on a show—they really did—and I could watch it for days.”

“Careful,” he said with a grin. “You’re starting to sound like Amia with her Pony Princess.”

“Goodness forbid!” she gasped, clutching a dramatic hand to her throat.

“I have more,” he said eagerly. “Some I haven’t watched at all, others I’ve only watched once. Would you like to see another? Not now, of course—it’s late, and I’m sure you’re tired—but tomorrow?”

And the next day, and the next, he thought as his emotions took hold of his mind.

“I would love that,” Alex said with a smile.

Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but it only made her look more beautiful—almost seductive, with her dark eyelids dropping low over her stunning eyes. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss her, and quickly rose before he decided to find out.

“Then it’s a date,” he said with a semi-formal little bow. “I have early meetings tomorrow, so I will be turning in.”

“Sleep well,” she said. “I think I’ll stay up a few minutes longer, just to enjoy the quiet.”

“Very well,” he told her. “Can you find your way back to your room?”

“I think so,” she said with a grin. “The palace doesn’t seem quite so overwhelming anymore.”

“One does get used to it, eventually,” he agreed. “Good night, Alex.”

“Good night, Zaiman.”

His name on her lips sent shivers over his skin, and he departed quickly. It would do no good to indulge these feelings, no good at all. But in the twilight between sleep and wake, his mind had other ideas. He floated off to sleep imagining Alex in his arms, dancing with him under the stars.