Page 259 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

Now the Shadow King was free. Now everything had changed.

“You think he’ll come for it,” Arabella said quietly. It wasn’t a question.

“Skyspire was his seat of power once.” I stared at the map. “The original fortress, before I rebuilt it. There’s something about that place, something beyond just strategic advantage.”

“The bones,” Griffin whispered suddenly. We all turned to look at him. His face had gone pale. “When I was researching the citadel’s history, I found references to ‘the bones of the first darkness.’ I thought it was metaphorical, but what if—”

“What if there’s something buried in the floating rock beneath Skyspire?” Vex finished. She looked at me. “You raised your five-pointed star fortress over the old ruins. Do you think it’s connected?”

I nodded. Why else would I have been so drawn to that particular floating rock? Why else would the restoration have come so easily, like the stones remembered their proper shape?

“We move it,” I decided. “Keep it mobile. Make ourselves harder to track while we figure out what he wants.”

“And the nobles?” Arabella prompted.

I met her gaze, seeing the challenge there. She knew I hated this. Knew it went against every instinct to shelter potential enemies. But she also knew I’d do it anyway, because she was right. They were targets now, whether they’d asked for it or not. And we couldn’t afford to let our enemy get his hands on them. Not now. Not ever.

“They can stay,” I ground out. “Temporarily. With conditions.”

“I’ll draw up contracts,” Vex said immediately, her quill already moving. “Loyalty oaths, behavior agreements, payment schedules—”

“And I can set up monitoring systems,” Griffin added. “Make sure no one’s sending messages to enemies or planning revolts.”

“Some of them might revolt,” Sebastian said from his chair. He was gazing out the window again.

I countered. “Then we make them see reason. I’m still the Dark Lord. They don’t have a choice.”

“Some of them might actually be useful,” Thorne pointed out. “Lord Janos Torok has a military background and knows siege engineering. He could help with fortress modifications if we can keep him from challenging people to duels.”

They were already planning, already organizing, already turning my reluctant agreement into actionable strategy. This was why I kept them around—they took my grand pronouncements and made them actually work.

“What about Solandris itself?” Arabella asked. “We can’t just leave it to fall apart.”

She was right about that, too. The kingdom’s infrastructure was already failing without Auremar’s magic to maintain the illusion of prosperity. The Golden Rose Fields were dead, their primary export gone. We’d also discovered that the treasury was nearly empty, drained by Auremar’s obsession with the Shadow King.

“Install a regent,” I said with effort. The drastic change of my lifelong plans was costing me. “Someone competent enough to keep things running but not ambitious enough to cause problems.”

“Oh!” Sebastian straightened in his chair, causing a fresh cascade of morning glories to bloom along the armrests. “My father, Lord Peregrine, would be perfect for that.”

I turned to glare at him, my possessive instincts flaring. He was trustworthy—I knew that, had proven it—but something about the way he just… existed in spaces that should be mine made my dominion magic itch. And now he was suggesting his father run Solandris in my stead.

“Father’s an excellent administrator,” Sebastian continued, either oblivious to or ignoring my territorial display. “He’s been managing the Northern Peaks beautifully. Very practical, not at all interested in power for its own sake. Just likes making sure people have food and the roads stay clear.”

“He’s already sent word about wanting to help,” Vex added carefully, “after what we did for Sebastian. His letter reached us right after I told the merchants selling ‘relics’ to fuck off.”

“Father also mentioned he’s concerned about the trade disruptions.” Sebastian absently plucked a morning glory and twirled it between his fingers. “He’d probably jump at the chance to stabilize things. Plus, he’s very good at boring paperwork. Loves it, actually. Says it’s soothing.”

Arabella smiled. “He would be excellent at the job.”

“And he’d keep an ear out for your father,” Sebastian offered. “If Evenfall surfaces here or tries to seek refuge anywhere in Solandris, we’ll know. Of course, he’d do that whether he was regent or not.”

Arabella’s expression didn’t change, but I felt her gratitude through our bond—for Sebastian’s practical approach, for not making it emotional, for simply treating her father as the strategic problem he was.

I watched Sebastian for a long moment. “Fine. Have Lord Peregrine start immediately. I want basic services restored within the week. For now, we focus on stability. Keep people fed, keep order maintained, keep them from forming angry mobs.”

“The bare minimum of tyranny,” Arabella said drily.

I shot her a look. “Would you prefer I raze the city and salt the earth?”