Page 56 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

Something about the familiar way he smiled triggered a strange flutter in my chest. Not attraction—that particular ship had never even left port—but a recognition that felt significant somehow, yet I couldn’t grasp why. Like it should attach to a memory but didn’t.

I blinked, disoriented.

“Are you all right?” Sebastian asked.

“Fine,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just hungry.”

Marna chose that moment to materialize at Sebastian’s elbow, making all of us jump. She was a broad-shouldered woman with arms like a blacksmith’s and a voice that could make rag dolls stand up straight. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and her weathered face bore the scowl of someone who’d spent decades managing chaos through sheer force of will. She peered at the scones with a critical eye.

“Hmm,” she said finally. “Acceptable.”

From Marna, that was practically a declaration of love.

Sebastian beamed like she’d just crowned him emperor. “Thank you! I was worried about the oven temperature—”

“Don’t let it go to your head, boy.” But there was something almost fond in her gruffness. Until she turned her gaze on Griffin, who winced reflexively. “No explosions in my kitchen, enchanter.”

She stomped away, bellowing at a cook who’d committed the sin of letting a sauce reduce too far.

Griffin was frowning. “Last time I was here, Marna threw a ladle at my head.”

“You deserved it,” Vex and I said at the same time.

“Griffin’s been explaining the Doom Scroll to me,” Sebastian interrupted, saving Griffin from further humiliation. “Fascinating device.”

Griffin’s entire face lit up. “You really think so? Most people find it morbid.”

“Morbid?” Sebastian wiped his hands on a cloth. “It’s brilliant. Though I wonder if you’ve considered adding a happiness index as a counterbalance? Might provide interesting comparative data.”

Griffin practically melted at the suggestion, and I had to admire Sebastian’s technique. He’d always been good at making people feel seen.

“Lord Sebastian,” Vex said, drawing his attention. “I’ve been instructed to inform you that you’ll be accompanying Lord and Lady Blackrose to the God Spire tomorrow morning.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Portal opens at dawn,” Vex confirmed.

“Right.” Sebastian’s movements became more purposeful, his earlier leisurely pace abandoned. “Then I should finish these quickly. Can’t leave Marna’s kitchen in disarray—she’d hunt me down across the realms.”

Griffin made a strangled sound. “I’ve always wanted to go to the God Spire. The Academia of Malice is there—the only university dedicated to studying villainy from an academic perspective.”

“You’re not going,” Vex said firmly.

Sebastian, with the diplomatic grace of someone trained in courtly politics, said, “Griffin, I’m sure your research is important, if you need to stay here.”

It was perfectly calibrated to make Griffin feel important without undermining Kazimir’s punishment. Griffin shot Sebastian a grateful look, and then the enchanter pushed his spectacles up on his nose and his eyes brightened like he’d had an epiphany.

I waited for an outburst but was distracted when Sebastian handed me a plate with a flower-shaped scone, still steaming, along with a small pot of clotted cream. I took a bite and nearly moaned. It was perfect—light, crumbly, with just the right balance of butter and sweetness from the blueberries. And the cream was obviously enhanced with something magical that transcended traditional baking. “Sebastian, this is perfect.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he said with a grin.

Two passing kitchen maids saw his smile and collided with the grace of startled chickens, their faces flushing crimson as they stammered apologies—not to each other, but to the air in front of them, their eyes still fixed on Sebastian like he’d just conjured the sun. The rest of us pretended not to notice as they fled, whispering furiously about “those eyes” and “the whole package.”

“Are you coming to the God Spire, Vex?” Sebastian asked, turning those violet eyes on her.

“Someone has to keep Skyspire from falling out of the sky,” she said with a wry smile. “With all the reconstruction and Lord Blackrose leaving, I’m needed here.”

“A pity.” Sebastian arranged more scones on plates. “Though Griffin tells me you’re the one who actually keeps this place running, so it makes sense.”