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I can feel the flame of his anger and a surge of his power. Blue wisps of his magic curl around my face.

“Why, in all the gods’ names, would you think of bringing such a subject up? To my new bride, no less?”

His attention returns to me.Roxilana, I will not be taking more wives, he says fervently.Not ever.

I nod, but I’m not looking at him.

Memnon moves away from me, toward Eislyn, his power spilling out of him. “Eislyn,you had no right.”

She lifts her hands placatingly. “I did not mean to startle her. I was merely making a toast to her new position. I thought sheknew.”

I look up to see Memnon’s hair lifting and his eyes beginning to glow. If I was distraught before, now I am alarmed. In three quick steps, I cross to Memnon, placing a hand on his forearm. “It was a misunderstanding,” I say, even as I eye Eislyn apprehensively. I’m fairly certain it was no such thing, but I am not ready to see the woman get disemboweled over it, and that may very well happen if I don’t stop Memnon. “It was just a shock.”

“You hadnoright,” Memnon repeats to Eislyn, his power deepening his voice.

“I didn’t know. Truly.” Eislyn glances at Ilyapa, perhaps for aid, but Memnon’s father doesn’t seem keen to jump to her defense.

Memnon stares at her like he doesn’t care what the fuck she knew or didn’t; he’s ready to cut her down for her sheer audacity.

“Eislyn, apologize for being naughty,” Ilyapa finally says, watching the situation with a detached sort of curiosity.

“Memnon, a thousand apologies.” She dips her head. “I have offended you and wounded your new wife, and for that, I am sorry.”

Memnon’s hair is still rippling, and his eyes are glowing.

I move around to his front and place a hand on his cheek.

Memnon, I say, turning his face to mine.It’s okay.

Rising onto my tiptoes, I press a kiss to his lips. At first, he’s unresponsive, but then he draws in a sharp breath, like maybe he is returning to life. He kisses me back, his hands finding me. Slowly, slowly, his power recedes into him.

He shudders against me, and when I look at his eyes next, they have dimmed back to the beautiful smoky-amber color they usually are.

“Well, before we cause any more marital strife, I think we should see ourselves out,” Ilyapa says. He retreats to the archway out of the dining hall, then pauses.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says, rotating back around. “Memnon, there is a second part of your gift, one Eislyn is willing to share with you.”

My husband casts a wary glance at the woman, his power right there, barely banked. Eislyn crosses the room to him, ignoring the hostility still pouring off him.

“Part of your father’s wedding gift—our gift—to you is that you may learn how to travel these ley lines.” She touches hertemple with two fingers. “I give you my permission to use your magic and take the knowledge from my mind.”

A muscle in Memnon’s jaw clenches. Down our bond, I can sense his complicated emotions. His desire for such a skill is battling his simmering annoyance.

Finally, he grimaces and dips his head. “Thank you for this gift,” he says.

He takes a deep breath, then another, like he’s readying himself. Then, stepping into Eislyn’s space, he grasps her head, his fingers flexing as his power twists out of his hands.

It happens quickly, the blue lines of power slithering into her mouth and nostrils. Her eyelids flutter, and she grasps his forearms as his magic takes hold.

I have seen Memnon do this to the unwilling. It is strange seeing his power at work when his subjectiswilling.

All at once, Memnon releases Eislyn, backing away to my side.

His father looks between the two. “Did it work?” he finally asks.

“Mmm,” Memnon says, giving a subtle nod, his eyes a little hazy.

Eislyn is slower to retreat, her attention still fixed on my husband.