Page 35 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“When did you last eat?” I countered, running my fingers through her hair. The shimmer of the Heirloom caught the firelight for a moment before disappearing beneath the strands.

She frowned, considering. “This morning? No, wait. Last night?”

“Exactly.” I sat up, pulling her with me. “We need food before I start considering which of my minions looks most appetizing.”

“Griffin’s probably stringy.” She stretched against me, all languid satisfaction and bare skin, and my body stirred with interest despite my exhaustion. “All that nervous energy.”

“Thorne would be tough as leather.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, hunting for clothing. “Vex would probably poison me out of spite.”

“Sebastian would taste like cinnamon rolls.”

I shot her a dark look. “Arabella.”

She grinned wickedly.

We dressed reluctantly. Arabella’s hair was a wild tangle down her back, and she kept fidgeting with it.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to figure out how to hide this.” She gestured vaguely at her head, where the Heirloom had merged with her. “The shimmer shows through if the light hits it right.”

She finally settled on a deep side part, letting her hair fall forward to shadow that side of her face. “I might have to cut bangs if this is permanent.”

“Don’t you dare.” I liked her hair exactly as it was—long enough to wrap around my fist, golden enough to catch the firelight when she rode me.

“Possessive about my hair now too?” she teased.

I pulled her against me for another kiss. “About everything concerning you.”

We finally made it out of our tower, heading down toward the small kitchen in the Inner Sanctum. The sun had long since set, and the corridors of Skyspire were lit by the orblights. Maybe we could still avoid everyone at least until morning.

“Finally emerged, have you?” Vex’s voice came from directly behind us.

I didn’t jump. I absolutely did not jump. But Arabella’s hand tightened on mine, which meant she’d been startled too.

“How’d you do that?” Arabella asked, turning to face my steward.

Vex’s purple hair caught the orblight as she smiled. “Practice.” She looked us up and down with an expression that suggested she knew exactly what we’d been doing. “Late dinner is being served in the private dining room, if you’re interested in actual food rather than whatever you’ve been sustaining yourselves on.”

“Vex—” I started, irritation flaring.

“Thorne’s back,” Vex interrupted smoothly. “With Griffin. And your guest.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “The one no one thought to inform me about.”

“It was sudden,” I said, not bothering to sound apologetic. “Lord Sebastian is under our protection for the time being.”

“Wait. Lord?” Vex scowled.

“Yes, why?”

She huffed irritably. “I didn’t prepare the right rooms for him, then.”

I scowled right back at her. “It doesn’t matter where he sleeps, does it? He’s lucky to get anything that’s not in the dungeon. Just give him a cot and access to a bath. I’m sure he’ll—”

Arabella and Vex pinned me with the same look. A look that said Sebastian’s accommodations absolutely did matter, and obviously I was a brutish warlord with no regard for decorum or the respect owed to a minor lord. Never mind that he was an enemy who was likely plotting my demise and was lucky his accommodations weren’t six feet underground.

I was about to remind them that the warlord in question was paying the bills and feeding them exotic food when Vex spoke first.

“I’ll get the servants to prepare new chambers while we eat.”