Raj's sitting room was brightly lit as usual, vases of flowers scattered on various tables. It did not hide, however, that the young prince was exhausted. As Shirayuki walked into the room, her eyes appraised him. His usual outfit was marred by a black armband, and his shoulders slumped. When he heard the door open, he rushed to his feet, intending to greet her with his usual enthusiasm, but his paused as he caught sight of the sling.

"Shirayuki, what in the world happened? Sakaki, bring a healer!" He rushed over to her, lightly holding her shoulders and looking her over for any other injuries.

"I'm fine, Raj," she reassured him, "We were surprised by some bandits and I have a broken arm, but Obi has been taking care of me." The guard in question stood a respectful few feet behind her and nodded his head once. He did not particularly enjoy playing the part of the aloof guard, but he endured for her sake.

"How horrid!" he declared, and guided her carefully over to the chairs he'd had set around a small table. "Sit, you've had a long trip and should eat."

"Thank you, Raj, but how are you holding up? I'm so sorry to hear about your father." Sympathy tinged her voice and she reached out her left hand and rested it lightly on his arm. "Please, let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

The prince's shoulders tightened at the touch, his grief these days barely leashed.

"I'm… doing my best to move forward," he said, haltingly. "My father was a great man, and I'll have a lot to live up to." A state funeral, a coronation, and the transition of power hung looming over his head, keeping him up at night when the grief didn't threaten to overwhelm him.

"You'll do just fine," Shirayuki assured him. He had come a long way since they had first met. Under his aide's tutelage, he had studied matters of state, the economics of the country, and had grown his political connections. While he still had fits of exuberance, he had managed to put his enthusiasm towards the bettering of Tanbarun, earning him the respect of his peers.

The servants brought in small trays of sandwiches and tea and the three of them settled in at the table. When they were alone, Raj had insisted that Obi started joining them for their socializing. He had, but still gave deference to the young prince, allowing him to monopolize the Miss' attention. The three talked long into the evening, and once their yawns could no longer be held back, Shirayuki reached into her pocket and handed Raj a small packet of herbs.

"To help you rest," she explained. "Let them steep in hot water for a few minutes, then drink it before bed. It should help you get some dreamless sleep." She had not missed the dark circles under his eyes and the slight pallor to his face.

"Thank you. Sleep well, Shirayuki. And than you for coming. It means more to me than you could know." Raj lifted her uninjured arm and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles before releasing her hand and allowing his guests to return to their rooms.

Obi walked close behind her, and once they had made it to their quarters, he opened the door for her. Stifling another yawn behind her hand, she entered, angling herself for her bed. A fresh night dress was hanging near the fireplace to warm and she realized suddenly that she was not going to be able to change on her own. The hour was late and she was loathe to ring the maid to help her undress. Biting her lip, she turned to Obi, a light blush crossing her cheeks.

"Obi, could you.. help me undo the buttons on the back of my dress. I'm afraid I can't manage one handed."

"Of course, Miss." So many cheeky responses zipped through his mind, but he wisely kept them to himself, even if he did want to see her cheeks flare pink.

She turned her back to him and he ghosted his fingers over the row of buttons along her back. One by one, he undid them, the sliver of skin at her back growing with each pearl button removed. His mouth dried as he tried not to eye the smooth expanse of her back, tried to keep his fingers strictly professional. Still, they managed to brush across her spine and Shirayuki shivered. While she should feel cold at being so exposed, her back heated along every spot his fingers had brushed. It was like she was branded by his touch and she was unsettled. This wasn't the first time he'd had to help her with particularly pesky dresses, but it felt different.

Once he had undone the line of buttons, he pulled his hands back and fisted them at his sides, willing them to stillness to keep them from sliding up her back, to her neck, and into her hair.

"All done, Miss." His voice sounded tighter than usual as he stepped back and cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Obi. I think I can manage from here. We should both get some rest. Sweet dreams."

Obi stepped towards the door between their rooms and looked back at her over his shoulder. The glow of the firelight danced over her hair, illuminating the red strands and following the dips of the plait, sending streaks of orange and gold through her locks and a glow over her bare back. His breath caught in his throat and he whispered, almost reverently, "Always."