Page 55 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“So what do we do?”

“We go. We play their game. And we get back here as quickly as possible to deal with the real problem.”

Above us, Nyx gave a mournful, theatrical cry as she took off into the sky. Apparently, our lack of attention had offended her.

Three days to prepare for walking into the heart of Syndicate power, wearing an artifact that could reshape reality. All to pay a debt to one of the most unstable entities in existence.

What could possibly go wrong?

I mentally began listing disasters—it was a very long list.

18 Bond over Baked Goods

(and Avoid Thinking About Tomorrow)

Arabella

The vast main kitchen of Skyspire sprawled across its own floating island, connected to the Great Hall by a reinforced lightning bridge wide enough to transport feast supplies.

I paused at the threshold, taking in the sheer scale of the operation. Dozens of cooks hustled amid the din of shouted orders and clattering pots. At the chamber’s heart, a series of interconnected hearths roared with enchanted flames that never smoked, their heat perfectly controlled by glowing runes carved into the stone surrounds. Roasted meat and fresh bread warred with the sharp tang of spices.

I rarely ventured here. But the promise of Sebastian’s scones had drawn me in, along with a desperate need to think about anything other than my father rotting in the dungeons.

I kept waiting to feel some clarity about Lord Evenfall’s fate. Death seemed too merciful for someone who’d locked me in a tower, calling it love while he paraded suitors past me like I was a prized cow. But if not death, then what? Let the Dark Lord have him?

Kaz would be pleased, but it would simply be a way of passing on the decision I should be making.

“Move it, or I’ll use your bones for stock!” a woman’s voice boomed across the cavernous space.

I startled, but the words weren’t meant for me. The command had come from Marna, who ran the kitchens with the same iron fist Kazimir used to rule his territories, and woe to anyone who disrupted her domain.

Which made the sight before me all the more surprising.

Sebastian stood at his own dedicated workstation—prime real estate in Marna’s kingdom—removing a tray of golden scones from the oven and placing them on a cooling rack. It was hard to miss the tall, golden-haired nobleman with his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms dusted with flour. He looked like he’d stepped out of a fairy tale and into a villain’s lair.

He’d changed since we’d found him in the forest. Gone were the bloodstained traveling clothes, replaced by loose dark trousers and a simple linen shirt in charcoal gray—practical Skyspire attire that looked strange on someone who’d probably spent his entire life in Solandrian pastels. The darker colors made his violet eyes stand out even more, and I made a mental note to thank Vex. Sebastian had arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back, yet somehow she’d already equipped him with an entire wardrobe.

She perched on a nearby stool, the tips of her black hair faded into silver, watching him work with an expression of mild amusement. And Griffin…

Griffin wasn’t supposed to be here at all.

As I approached the group, I resisted the urge to check that the glamor hiding the Heirloom’s outline was still in place. The spell Kazimir had taught me this morning was holding, but I wasn’t convinced I’d mastered it yet.

I sat down next to Griffin. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on our problem?”

He jumped at my voice, nearly dropping the Doom Scroll balanced on his knee. “Lady Blackrose! I—that is—I’m on break? A very legitimate, authorized break. Please don’t tell Lord Blackrose.”

“Griffin’s counting this as a meal,” Vex confirmed, though her tone suggested she found this as dubious as I did. “I’m supervising.”

“Like I’m a child who can’t be trusted near sharp objects,” Griffin added miserably.

“Marna’s rules, not mine,” Vex said with finality.

I shook my head. “Relax, Griffin. I’m not here to police your punishment.”

“Oh good.” His shoulders sagged with relief. “Because Sebastian promised me first taste of the new batch, and I’ve been waiting for ages.”

Sebastian glanced up from his work. “Arabella! Perfect timing. These will be ready in just a moment.”