Orys likes to think of himself as gentle, but I bet he steals the covers at night. It must be a nightmare sharing his bed. Poor Storm Queen! đ
Thanks for this lovely headcanon! I totally agree Orys steals the covers. We donât know if to force Argella to snuggle or accidentally, but stillâŠ
Once more Argella she was trembling in the middle of the night. It was not the memory of rough hands dragging her from the bed that awakened her. The nightmares that used to plague her sleep seemed to cease once she claimed the Lordâs chamber. She wondered if Orys has ever witnessed her writhing or even talking while asleep and pretended not to have seen it to save her the embarrassment. Maybe the nightmares stopped because even in her sleep, she wouldnât give him the opportunity to be her savior again.
 Argella narrowed her eyes, trying to see his face in the dark. He had turned in his sleep, claiming the covers and leaving her shivering. Her stomach clenched in anger and another unnamed feeling as she watched his back moving with every intake of air.
 âYou wonât exile me from my bed,â Argella hissed, clutching and trying to pull the covers.
 Her battle was in vain, the covers were tucked firmly beneath his muscular body and Orys didnât even stir in his slumber. Argella huffed, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. She sat on the bed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at the door.
 Argella wondered if the servants kept her maiden bed the way she had left. She remembered the wolfâs pelt her father gifted her with the last time he hunted with his lords.
 âI brought you something for your nameday, daughter!â Argilac had shouted from the gates, dismounting his horse.
The image brought tears to her eyes, but she wouldnât weep. Argella clenched her teeth and blinked, willing the tears to fade away.
 Argella thought she should have taken the wolfâs skin with her when she walked into the main chamber, startling Orys earlier in the evening.
 âItâs better this way,â Argella mumbled, trying to convince herself she could avoid some pain by keeping Argilacâs last gift hidden in her old chamber. There were only two reasons something is kept hidden; either it is not valuable, or it means everything.
 âArgella?â his voice was raspy and when Argella turned to look at him, Orys was rubbing his eyes.
 âWhy are you awake?â Orys reached out for her hand and gasped, noticing her skin was cold, âYouâre freezing! Come here!â
 Argella scoffed when he lifted the covers, inviting her to move closer to him. She wanted to laugh at the irony he cloaked her when everyone was watching but claimed the furs and covers for himself when the world was sleeping. Maybe the slumber had revealed his true nature after all.
 âI stole the covers, didnât I? Iâm sorry!â Argella narrowed her eyes at him, trying to decipher if he was mocking her.
 Argella didnât know what in their situation amused him, but Orys smiled. She lay down again on her side, turning her back to him.
 âI was not laughing at you. I swear it,â Orys whispered in her ear, sliding his arm around her waist. Â
 Argella tried to convince herself the shivers running down her spine were caused by the cold. He kept nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck and a suspicion suddenly hit her.
 He wanted me to seek comfort and warmth in his arms.
 âI wish to sleep!â Argella hissed, clenching her teeth.
 Argella could feel him smiling against her skin but couldnât prove his intention was to make her long for his arms around her. What would she accuse him of? He was her husband! It was only natural that he desired to have her in his arms, and she was not expected to protest or deny him.
 One day her anger might subside to frustration, irritation or even resentment. Not tonight. Tonight she couldnât bear the possibility of being brought to her knees by his kindness.
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