Page 156 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

Vex turned back to look over the rail. Warm sea air blasted us from below, lifting her hair. “Sometimes it feels like I’ve always known him.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No,” she agreed, a small smile playing at her lips. “It’s not.”

I waited. One thing I’d learned about Vex—she’d answer questions, but in her own time, in her own way.

“We met when he was in a low place,” she said finally, her gaze distant. “Lower than most people know. He needed someone who could see him clearly, without judgment or expectation.” Her smile turned wry. “Or fear, for that matter.”

My chest tightened. “Was it… was it after the demon?”

Her head turned sharply toward me, strange silver eyes widening slightly. “He told you about Malphas?”

The name sent a chill down my spine even though I’d only heard pieces of that story. “A little,” I said quietly. “Enough to know it was bad.”

“Bad.” Vex huffed. “That’s certainly one word for it.” She was quiet for a moment, studying my face as if weighing how much to say. Then her expression shifted—a decision made. “If he told you about Malphas, then…” She took a breath. “When I found him, he was barely holding himself together. The demon had kept him for almost a year. A year of—” Her voice caught, and for the first time since I’d known her, Vex looked genuinely distraught. “Malphas specialized in breaking people from the inside out. Not just physical torture, though there was plenty of that. It was the mental games, the way he would wear different faces, make Lord Blackrose think he’d escaped only to reveal it was another illusion. And it would… take things. Make him do things. Use his own body against him in ways that—” Vex’s jaw clenched. “Demons don’t see boundaries the way we do. They see shame as a tool, intimacy as a weapon. Malphas was particularly creative in that regard.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand, her grip almost painful. I squeezed it back, too overcome with emotion to be able to do anything else.

“By the time he actually did escape, he didn’t trust his own senses anymore. Couldn’t tell what was real. He’d killed Malphas, yes, but the thing about demons is they leave marks that don’t show on skin.” Vex’s silver eyes were distant, lost in memory. “For weeks after, he’d wake up screaming, convinced he was still in that place. Still trapped. He’d test everything—pain, mostly, because pain was the only thing he could trust to be real.”

My stomach twisted. I’d seen the scars, of course. The ones that weren’t from his mother’s runes. Some were battle scars. But hearing this…

“That’s when you met him?”

“Yes. He needed someone who could be near him without triggering those memories. Someone who didn’t want anything from him, who wouldn’t try to use what had happened as leverage.” Vex’s smile was sad. “I’m glad he told you. Even a little. He doesn’t talk about that time. With anyone. The fact that he trusts you enough to share even a piece of it…” She squeezed my hand again, gentler this time. “That’s everything, my lady. That’s him saying you’re safe in a way no one else has ever been.”

I had to look away, blinking hard against the sudden burn in my eyes.

“Gods,” I whispered. “No wonder he—” I broke off, thinking of his need for control, his careful distance from everyone except me. And now, even with me, something was pulling him away. And I didn’t know how to help him.

“I’m glad he had you, Vex,” I said once I could trust my voice again. “Obviously he felt safe with you, too.”

Vex’s expression shifted, concern replacing the distant look. “I know something’s wrong,” she said, her voice dropping so low I could barely hear her over the wind. “With him. I’ve known for a while now, but it’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

My throat felt tight. I wanted to tell her everything—about the Shadow King, about the visions, about the way Kaz sometimes looked at me with anger and violence that wasn’t his. But Captain Brecca was only a few feet away, and sailors were everywhere, and some truths were too dangerous to speak aloud even among allies.

“Do you know what it is?” I asked carefully.

Vex’s jaw tightened. “I have an idea.”

We looked at each other, a whole conversation happening in the space between words. She knew. Maybe not the details, but she knew something ancient and terrible had its hooks in him.

Her hand was still on mine, warm and solid. “When we get back home, we’ll figure it out.”

I nodded, grateful beyond words. Then, because I needed to shift to safer ground before I started crying on deck, I asked something I’d been wondering about for months.

“Why does your hair change color with his moods?”

Vex blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “What?”

“Your hair. It changes.” I gestured to the black ends. “It’s been black or deep red more often than not lately. And I’ve noticed it seems to correspond to… to how he’s feeling.” I paused. “Is that your magic? I realized I don’t even know what your magic is.”

For a moment, Vex looked uncomfortable—a rare expression on her usually composed face. Her free hand went to her hair, fingers catching in the silver-and-black strands.

“It’s complicated,” she said finally.

“That’s also not an answer.”