Page 81 of The Dark Lord’s Guide to Honeymooning (and Other Acts of Tyranny)

“Yes, my lord,” came Marlowe’s response.

“This is perfect!” Sebastian’s excitement was palpable even from a distance. Sebastian appeared at the railing, his face bright with joy—though his smile wavered when his gaze landed not on me, but on Griffin’s face. “Griffin, would you like to help?”

There was a pause, then Griffin’s hesitant voice: “I’m not particularly skilled in the culinary arts.”

“Nonsense! Everyone can bake. I’ll give you something simple that can’t possibly explode.”

“You’d be surprised,” I muttered.

Arabella squeezed my arm. “It might keep Griffin out of trouble.”

“Doubtful, but one can hope.” I turned to Thorne. “Keep one eye on them as you go about your other duties. I’ll deal with his insubordination more thoroughly later.”

Thorne nodded, his expression stoic as ever. “I’ll ensure they remain within acceptable parameters of chaos, my lord.”

With that settled, I led Arabella up the spiral staircase, past the kitchen where Griffin’s gaze was fixed on Sebastian with rapt attention.

Our suite was the largest in the apartment, dominated by a bed that could comfortably sleep six and windows that offered an even more impressive view. The bathroom alone was the size of most inn rooms, featuring a tub carved from a single piece of black marble.

“This is where you stay when you visit?” Arabella asked, running her hand along the silk bedding.

“When I must.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I prefer Skyspire but business sometimes requires a presence here.”

Arabella moved to the windows, gazing out at the strange landscape below. “It’s beautiful, in a terrifying sort of way.”

“The Syndicate appreciates luxury just as I do,” I explained, watching her. “Power without comfort is just work.”

She turned, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. “Speaking of luxury, tell me about this Gilded Gallows place the Alchemist mentioned.”

I groaned. “It’s a waste of space. A playground for villains with more gold than sense.”

“But what is it?” She perched on the edge of the bed, looking up at me expectantly.

“A nightclub,” I said, removing my coat and draping it over a chair. “Music, dancing, overpriced drinks, the occasional ritual sacrifice—though that’s usually restricted to the VIP section.”

“I’ve never been to a nightclub before,” she admitted, curiosity bright in her eyes. “What’s it like?”

I sat beside her, loosening the collar of my shirt. “You remember how the overt hedonism of our wedding feast threw you off balance? The Gilded Gallows is significantly less… tasteful.”

“I’ve grown since then,” she protested. “I’m not the same sheltered noblewoman you kidnapped.”

“Clearly not.” I reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, and then lingered with my hand moving to her neck. “You’re the Dark Lady of Skyspire now. Mistress of the Healing Arts.” I brushed my thumb over her lower lip, watching it part. “Scourge of pickled organs.”

She laughed, leaning into my touch. “Exactly. We’re the most powerful people here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Now you’re just inviting trouble.”

“—and there’s no reason not to experience something new.” She took my hand, her expression turning serious. “I spent my entire life locked in a tower, Kaz. Everything was controlled, measured, restricted. Now I have the chance to see things I’ve never seen before, do things I’ve never done.”

I studied her face, saw the determination there. My instinct was to refuse, but the way she was looking at me—eager and excited and alive—made my arguments crumble. Denying her this small adventure felt wrong. Like I’d be no better than her father, keeping her caged for my own comfort.

Anyway, Arabella’s freedom wasn’t mine to give, but hers to take. Ironically, the closer we became, the more I had to remind myself of that simple truth.

“When you put it like that…” I sighed.

She grinned, knowing she’d used the one argument that would win every time, and straddled my lap with her arms around my neck. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”

I rested my hands on her hips. “Your best behavior still involves setting things on fire.”