Sensing her sudden boldness, Rhaegar's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. He cast aside the cloth in his hand and bent his head, answering Caelith's kiss.
She did not know what strange impulse had driven her to close that distance. She only knew that, in this moment, she longed for it—longed to claim that kiss, to lose herself within this fleeting haven of tenderness.
Rhaegar gently pressed her down upon the bed and leaned over her, his presence enveloping. With a teasing motion, he parted her collar, the fabric loosening to reveal the slender line of her neck and shoulders.
Then, all at once, clarity struck her.
Caelith turned her head sharply and, summoning all her strength, pushed him away. Bracing her hands against the edge of the bed, her body trembled uncontrollably as she gasped for breath.
"I cannot… I am sorry… Rhaegar, I cannot… I cannot be with you…"
