Page 194 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Gods knew I wanted to stay.” His fingers found mine under the table. “And that terrified me.”

The ring on my finger pulsed warm, echoing the heat spreading through my chest.

Around us, I became dimly aware of the others pointedly not listening. Griffin had launched into an enthusiastic explanation of his latest explosive compound to Thorne, who was nodding with the patience of a man who’d heard this speech before. Vex was trying to coax her hairpin away from Nyx, who was growling. Sebastian had suddenly become very interested in making the sugar flowers on the cake bloom and wither in increasingly complex patterns.

“It’s perfect,” I said in a voice everyone could hear. “All of it. Thank you.”

We were debating whether Griffin should be allowed to demonstrate his “completely safe” indoor fireworks when a knock interrupted. One of the servants entered, looking apologetic.

“Forgive the interruption, but Lord Sebastian has an urgent message.”

Sebastian frowned, taking the sealed paper. His face went pale as he read. “I need to go. My contact in Solandris—” He looked up at us, clearly torn. “I’m sorry. This can’t wait.”

“Go,” I said. “We’ll save you some cake.”

“Happy birthday, Arabella. Try not to save the world for at least another hour.” He squeezed my shoulder as he passed. Kaz scowled, and Sebastian snatched back his hand as if he was afraid to lose it. Apparently, my husband’s limits were still in place despite the warm atmosphere.

After he left, the mood shifted. Griffin yawned dramatically. “Well, I should probably check on my familiars. Make sure Nyx hasn’t eaten any more of them.”

The dragon gave him an innocent look that fooled no one.

“And I need to patrol,” Thorne added, though I noticed him pocket an extra slice of cake first.

Vex was smiling contentedly. “I suppose I should make sure Lord Torok hasn’t challenged any more children to combat. I threatened him with the actual dungeon, and he said he’d behave.” She stood. “Though I don’t quite trust these hero types.”

They filed out, each pausing to wish me happy birthday again. Nyx lingered, her silver eyes moving between Kazimir and me with an intelligence that was sometimes unsettling. Then she too padded toward the small side door, somehow managing to squeeze her large frame through without breaking it. The pink bow, I noticed, had mysteriously vanished.

And then it was just Kaz and me, alone in the Great Hall with the remains of my surprise party.

“You knew,” I said. “This whole time, you knew it was my birthday and didn’t say anything.”

“Vex was very specific about the dismemberment.” He poured himself another glass of wine. “Besides, you needed a moment of normalcy.”

“Nothing about our life is normal.”

He smirked. “But that’s what makes it fun.”

I studied him in the candlelight. The sharp angles of his face, the way his dark hair fell across his forehead—it was longer than ever.

“Dance with me,” I said suddenly.

He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no music.”

“So?” I stood, holding out my hand. “It’s my birthday. I want to dance with my husband.”

He took my hand and stood, pulling me close. We swayed in the empty hall, no music but the sound of our breathing and the distant chaos of our overcrowded citadel. His hand was warm on my waist, his other holding mine like something precious.

“I need to tell you something,” he said quietly.

My heart stuttered. Was this it? Was he finally going to share about the Shadow King? I hoped he would, and also hoped he wouldn’t. I didn’t want to confront that tonight.

“I’m terrible at birthdays,” he continued. I let out a relieved breath. “Never celebrated my own, never understood the point. But seeing you tonight—” He spun me gently, then pulled me back. My breasts brushed against the hard muscles of his chest. “Maybe I understand a little better.”

“Oh?” I looked up at him. “And what do you understand?”

“That it’s not just about marking another year survived.” His voice dropped. “It’s about having people who care that you survived it.”

The words hit deeper than he probably intended. I thought of the years after my mother’s death, when the date passed unmarked and unmourned except for whatever meager gift my lady’s maid Agnes could smuggle to me in the tower. After my kidnapping, my father had dismissed her—as if she’d been the one to fail him. But Vex’s recent inquiries had turned up something better: Agnes had found employment with a gentler household, helping two young girls who probably adored her. I’d sent her a note, just to let her know she wasn’t forgotten and all was well.