Page 173 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“For what it’s worth,” Sebastian said, pulling me away from my guilty thoughts, “you were my first kiss.”

I opened my eyes to find him studying the horizon, a self-deprecating smile on his face.

“At the time, I thought we’d get married.” He laughed, but it sounded forced. “Stupid, really. Even then, I should have known you were destined for bigger things than a life of agricultural reform and trade negotiations.”

“Sebastian—”

“Oh, I’m not that boy anymore.” He held up a hand quickly. “I grew up. Saw the world. Learned that first loves rarely survive reality.” His smile turned more genuine. “Especially when said first love becomes a terrifying dark sorceress who throws people out of windows.”

My mouth twitched. “Just the one time.”

“Still.” He turned to look at me properly. “I’m glad you’re happy, Arabella. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve it more than anyone I know.”

The sincerity in his voice sent warmth through me. “Don’t let Kazimir hear you say that. He already thinks you’re trying to steal me away.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He shuddered theatrically. “I don’t want to end up like those assassins.”

We fell into easier conversation after that, trading memories. The time we convinced the stable boys we’d seen a dragon and caused a panic. The summer we decided to map every secret passage in the palace and got hopelessly lost and missed the summer solstice festival. The way he’d always brought me books from his family’s library, the ones about magic theory that proper ladies weren’t supposed to read.

It felt nice. Like finding a favorite toy from childhood and discovering it still brought joy.

“Your father,” I said eventually. “Is he safe?”

Sebastian’s expression darkened. “I got word from him a few days ago. He’s been holding Auremar off, claiming I’m on urgent family business in the Eastern Realms. But the king’s getting impatient.” Sebastian watched Nyx dive under the ship. “And it didn’t help that the entire company of soldiers chasing me were found slaughtered, though Auremar rightly believes that’s the Dark Lord’s doing, for daring to get too close to the border.” Sebastian picked at a splinter on the rail. “Father’s considering formally disowning me just to make me useless for Auremar’s purposes. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Auremar wants to literally sacrifice me, and my status as the heir to the Northern Peaks won’t change anything.”

“That’s—”

He shrugged. “Better than my father being in danger of knowing too much about Auremar’s plans.”

I thought about Lord Evenfall, rotting in Skyspire’s dungeons. Our families were so different. “What will you do? After all this is over?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to make sure you were safe first.”

“Sebastian—”

“I know you don’t need protection.” He held up a hand. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just…” He frowned, choosing his words carefully. “Something’s not quite right with the Dark Lord.”

My spine stiffened. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not questioning your choice.” His tone was gentle but firm. “Or your happiness. But there’s something in his eyes sometimes. Something that has nothing to do with being a villain and everything to do with—” He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

It wasn’t nothing. If he was picking up on the Shadow King’s influence bleeding through, it was worse than I thought.

“I don’t need you to save me from my husband,” I said carefully.

“I know.” He smiled sadly. “You never needed saving. Not really. You just needed people to stop trying to cage you.”

The truth of that struck me with unexpected force, settling somewhere deep in my chest where all the complicated feelings about my father and my past lived in a tangled knot I still hadn’t quite unraveled.

“So,” I said, desperately needing to change the subject. “What’s going on with you and Vex?”

Sebastian blinked at the shift. “Sorry?”

“Oh, come on. She seemed very interested in your scone recipe.”

“Well, the scones are exceptional,” he said with a crooked grin. “Can’t blame anyone for that.”

“Right.” I studied his face, finding only good-natured amusement. Nothing hidden, nothing deflected. “What about Griffin?”