Page 174 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

The change was immediate. Sebastian’s ears turned pink, and he suddenly found the horizon fascinating.

“Griffin is…” He cleared his throat. “He’s brilliant.”

“And?”

“And nothing.” But his voice pitched slightly higher, and my truth-sense gave the faintest tingle—not a lie, but definitely not the whole truth.

I leaned closer, delighted. “What happened at the God Spire?”

His ears turned pink. “He got hurt trying to find me after I left the Gilded Gallows. I just—I wanted to make sure he was all right. Anyone would have done the same.”

“Mmm-hmm. And the fact that he looks at you like you hung the moon?”

“He looks at everyone like that when they’re kind to him.” Sebastian’s voice went soft, almost sad. “Which says more about how he’s been treated than anything else.”

The gentle observation was so perfectly Sebastian—seeing the loneliness in Griffin’s hero worship instead of just being flattered by it.

“He’s lucky to have you as a friend,” I said quietly.

Sebastian met my eyes, something complicated flickering in his expression. “I’m not sure I’m what he needs.”

“What do you mean?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head with a rueful grin. “You have surrounded yourself with an interesting group of people, Lady Blackrose.”

And that, apparently, was all he would say on the matter. He pointed dramatically at the darkness below the Sky Serpent. “Look, dolphins!”

“We’re over land.”

“Must have just missed them. Shame.” He was already backing away with a grin. “I should go check on our guests. Make sure their mosquito bites haven’t evolved into certain death.”

“Sebastian!”

But he was gone, leaving me alone with the wind and unanswered questions.

“Interesting group of people,” I muttered. “That’s one way to put it.”

50 Cage Your Problems

(Before They Cage You)

Kazimir

The portal snapped shut behind us, and we deposited our final batch of unconscious charges near the guest quarters. Five more heroic bloodlines from Valmont sprawled across the stone, their gentle snoring a stark contrast to the chaos of their collection. Thorne lifted the sack with Viktor Moorhazi—a bastard with the right bloodline and wrong luck—over his shoulder.

I scanned the courtyard, searching for a particular flash of golden hair.

The scrying crystal was silent in my pocket. Arabella hadn’t contacted me again since her warning about Zaraiah, and I hadn’t reached out either. Better to wait until she was here. Until I could touch her and remember why I was fighting so hard to stay myself.

“Lady Blackrose is on her way.” Vex materialized from the shadows near the guest quarters, her black hair catching the afternoon light. “Should arrive within the hour. Lord Sebastian is with her.”

My jaw tightened. “Why aren’t you with her?”

“Because someone needed to handle the twenty-two families currently trying to murder each other in the guest quarters.” She stepped over an unconscious juggler. “Did you know the Shellfords and Moonbays have a three-generation blood feud over fishing rights?”

“I don’t care if they have a thousand-year war over who invented the wheel.” Shadows coiled at my feet. “Zaraiah attacked Arabella. The Chair of Whispers ambushed my wife while you were here playing referee.”

Vex’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know—”