She faked a gasp, placing a hand over her chest. "Yours, is it?" she repeated, amused. "Since when does a queen belong to her grandson?"
He leaned in, his breath brushing her lips as he whispered, "Since last night—when she was moaning it into my ear."
The Queen's cheeks flushed deeper, but her smirk never wavered. "You really are insufferable."
Turning away, she reached for the towel and began wrapping it around her damp hair. Her playful smirk faded and after a brief silence, she spoke—her tone serious. "Can I ask you something?"
Julian, still standing shirtless near the window, turned his head with a half-smile. "Sure,"
The Queen met his gaze, her fingers tightening slightly on the towel. "About what you said before… the thing with Regina. Were you serious?"
Julian's eyes lit up with amusement, and he gave a low chuckle. "Yes," he said without hesitation. "I was completely serious."
