" I walked back into the bedroom. Amar was standing by the foot of the bed, playing lazily with the cuffs of his sleeves. I tensed. That foolish disappointment was gone.
“Are you frightened?” he asked.
Don’t cower. I straightened my back. I would’ve stared him in the eyes if I could. “Should I be?”
“I should hope there are more frightening things than sharing a bed with me,” he said. He flourished a bow. “Did I not promise you that we would be equals? Your will is where I lay my head. I will not touch you without your permission.”
I moved to the bed, taking stock of the unnecessary amount of cushions. I could feel Amar’s gaze on me and rather than tossing the cushions to the ground, I stacked them in the middle of the bed. Amar followed me and slid onto the opposite side. The fire in the diyas collapsed with the faintest of sighs.
“A daunting fortress,” he said lazily, prodding one of the pillows. “Have you so little faith in me?”
“Yes.”
He laughed and the sound was unexpectedly…musical.
“The dark is a lovely thing, is it not? It lets us speak in blindness. No scowls or smiles or stares clouding our words.”
I lay in bed, my body taut. Amar continued:
“I spoke no falsehoods in the Night Bazaar,” he said. “I would rip the stars from the sky if you wished it. Anything for you. But remember to trust me. Remember your promise.”
I fell quiet for a moment. “I remember my promise.”
After that, I said nothing.
The air between us could have been whittled in steel. An hour passed before I ventured a glance at Amar. His face was turned from me, leaving only dark curls half visible in the light. Moonlight had limned his silhouette silver. The longer I stared at him, the more something sharp stirred within me and I was reminded of that strange ache in my head, where forgotten dreams jostled for remembrance. "

― Roshani Chokshi , The Star-Touched Queen (The Star-Touched Queen, #1)