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M areleau Harvallis had never felt so anxious as she did now. Her stomach was a swarm of butterflies. Her heart the rapid pulse of hummingbird wings. She walked down the dimly lit halls of Verlot Palace next to the man she loved. The man she was now married to. The man who hadn’t so much as looked at her since they’d marked their names side by side on a binding contract.

That was all her wedding had been.

No ceremony. No Godspriest. No elaborate gown. Not even a kiss to seal their nuptials.

Just a quill, a contract, and a flurry of bells.

Her mother had convinced Verdian to agree to host a dinner at least, but Mareleau could have done without that. The last-minute formality meant Mareleau had been pulled away from Larylis immediately following the signing of their marriage contract to be fussed over by her lady’s maids. They’d cooed congratulations while whispering behind their hands when they didn’t think she was listening. They’d worn smiles while they’d styled her hair, dressed her in the prettiest gown she owned, then smirked and gossiped over the suddenness of her wedding and her unsettling choice of groom.

Dinner had been more of the same. She’d endured cold congratulations, perplexed stares, and too-loud whispers as her dinner guests speculated upon why she’d married the bastard and whether it was true he was now King of Menah in lieu of Teryn. She’d suffered it all with a tight-lipped grin, her composure curated to hide the mess of emotions tangled within. All the while, Larylis—her husband, her beloved—had sat mute by her side. Not once had they gotten the chance to speak. Not once had he turned to her with a smile or a kiss. Her dread had only grown from there.

Now that dinner was over, she and Larylis were forced to engage in one of the most barbaric and outdated traditions Mareleau’s kingdom observed during royal marriages. The procession to the wedding chamber.

The corridor echoed with strains of violin, shuffling feet, and muffled whispers. Thankfully, their retinue wasn’t overlarge, but even the dozen or so spectators were more than enough to tie Mareleau’s stomach in knots. She and Larylis were near enough to touch as they walked with slow steps. That they didn’t so much as brush fingertips showed her what efforts Larylis was taking to prevent it. She no longer tried to catch his eye, for she was too preoccupied with her own dread and humiliation. Surely, if she’d been denied a formal wedding ceremony, she could have been denied this ridiculous tradition as well. But no matter how hard she’d argued against it, her mother had refused to hear a word of it. This is more important than the wedding , Helena had said. Especially where you’re concerned .

Mareleau had guessed what her mother had been referring to. The procession to the wedding chamber was meant to prove a royal marriage was consummated. She could only thank the seven gods that her kingdom had long ago done away with the requirement that the consummation be witnessed by a Godspriest. To think that was ever considered civilized!

They reached the end of a short hall where a pair of red and gold doors stood. Mareleau had never entered them before. She’d never had need to, for the room was reserved specifically for newlyweds. Mareleau had to resist the urge to fiddle with her hair as they paused before the doors. She hazarded a glance at Larylis just as he did the same to her. Her heart climbed into her throat, sending it thudding even faster. Too soon, he looked away and faced the crowd behind them.

Mareleau did the same. She kept her eyes fixed firmly above everyone’s heads, grateful for how dark the hall was. Breah, one of her lady’s maids, stepped forward with a curtsy, then loosened the laces of Mareleau’s gown and removed pins, jewels, and sashes from her ensemble. Breah helped her out of her dress next, leaving her in her petticoats, corset, and shift. As she let down Mareleau’s hair, a young man went to assist Larylis out of his jacket and waistcoat.

Mareleau swallowed hard and briefly scanned the crowd. She found her other two lady’s maids—Ann and Sera—as well as her mother. It was no surprise her father was missing, for he’d hardly deigned to join her wedding feast. His actions spoke clearly of his disdain for her marriage, regardless of his grudging acceptance.

Once Larylis was left in only his shirt and trousers, the audience rumbled with polite applause. Everything inside her wanted to curl forward, to fold her arms over her chest, but she forced herself to stand tall, to lift her chin, to exude the confidence she didn’t feel.

Queen Helena clasped her hands to her heart and faced the crowd. “It is now time for the bride and groom to become true husband and wife. Wish them many blessings, so they may bring forth an heir.” Another wave of applause. A few disbelieving snickers.

Breah curtsied once again, bowing her blonde head. “Is there anything you desire to be brought to you before we bid you goodnight, Your Highness?”

“Wine.” The word came out in a rush.

Helena cut a glare at her daughter, then glanced suggestively at Mareleau’s abdomen.

It took no small amount of restraint to keep from rolling her eyes. “For my husband,” she amended, lifting a hand toward him. She nearly alighted it upon his arm when she remembered they hadn’t touched since their stolen kiss over a month ago. She folded her hands at her waist and gave her mother a demure smile. “My husband would like wine. I do not.”

Breah nodded and scurried into the crowd, returning with a bottle and glass. Breah handed both to Larylis.

Helena gave a satisfied nod, and two servants opened the pair of doors. As Mareleau and Larylis turned toward them, her pulse kicked up. She was relieved to escape the eyes of the spectators, but she dreaded what would come next. Not the consummation they were expected to perform but something far more mundane.

A conversation.

She’d been desperate to speak to him all night, to explain, to apologize, but as she entered the wedding chamber and heard the doors close behind them, she wished she were anywhere else. The longer Larylis had avoided speaking to her, the more certain she’d become of his displeasure. He had every right to be upset, of course. Hopefully his love for her was stronger than his anger.

Silence hung heavy as they stood just beyond the closed doors. They studied the walls, the bed, looking everywhere but at each other. The candlelit room was relatively small while the bed was enormous, piled high with plush pillows, silk sheets, and velvet blankets in the deepest shades of red and gold. Old-fashioned tapestries adorned the marble walls, displaying romantic scenes of courtship and lovemaking.

Mareleau couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose. “This is the most hideous room I’ve ever seen.”

Larylis snorted a laugh. The sound was so familiar, so cherished, it had Mareleau’s chest warming. She glanced his way to see if he held a smile on his lips, but he was already turning away from her. He strolled over to the bedside table and set down his armload. With slow moves, he poured the deep ruby wine into the glass. She expected him to drink from it, but he didn’t. Instead, he set it back down and moved to the sole window in the room. He drew back the crimson curtain and stood silent, hardly moving but for the rise and fall of his chest. The blush of the setting sun streamed through the window, amplifying the red and gold glow of the room, glinting off the copper tones in his dark hair.

Mareleau watched him for a few moments, studying the broad expanse of his shoulders, the slim taper of his waist visible beneath his untucked shirt, the way his overlong hair curled at the nape of his neck. She was desperate to break the silence, but no words would come. So she swept over to the glass of wine, drained it in two gulps, then filled another. The burn of the fiery liquid warmed her stomach and muted her swarm of thoughts. She closed her eyes as she took another sip, relishing the way her muscles unwound.

“What about the baby?” Larylis’ voice had her eyes flying open, his tone equal parts taunting and condemning. He watched her from the window, lips pressed into a tight line.

Her heart hammered so hard, she was surprised her entire ribcage didn’t shatter in her chest. With trembling hands, she set down the cup and took a few steps toward him. She immediately set to braiding three strands of hair, hating how her stomach turned beneath his unyielding scrutiny. She paused and considered wielding her magic trick to summon one of her false personas. It would make it easier to have the conversation they needed to have, but…it wasn’t right. Larylis deserved her true self now.

“I’m so sorry I lied, Larylis,” she said.

“Why did you do it?”

She frowned. “Why do you think I did it? I had to get out of marrying Teryn.”

He shook his head. “You could have gotten out of your engagement a hundred different ways. Why did you bring me into it? With a lie, no less. One that made me look like a traitor to my brother.”

She bristled at his rising tone. Her own voice grew sharper. “It was the only way I could think that would finally allow us to be together.”

“You should have asked me first.”

“You would have said no.”

He took a step closer. “And you’d have had my answer. What are you going to do in a few months when it’s clear you aren’t with child?”

“I have plans for that,” she said slowly. “In a few weeks, I will announce that my condition came to…to an end. My parents won’t expect me to mourn, for I am supposed to be hiding my supposed pregnancy.”

She expected some relief to show on his face after hearing she had it all under control. If anything, he looked angrier. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’d have let me go so easily? Even after everything we confessed in the drawing room, after learning what had happened to our letters…you’d have let me go? Answer me honestly.”

He opened his mouth only to snap it shut. With a slow sigh, he dragged a hand over his face, and his expression finally eased. His tone turned soft. Resigned. “Only on the outside. Inside…inside, I would have held you tight and never let you go.”

“Well, I’m not quite so noble as you. I wasn’t willing to let you go inside or out. I had to fight for you, whether it damned my reputation, ruined my chances at inheriting my father’s crown, or had me cast out as a traitor. I had to try. I had to risk everything.”

Again, he opened his mouth only to say nothing for several breaths. Finally, he whispered, “It was wrong. We shouldn’t…we shouldn’t have been rewarded for your lie. I shouldn’t have been rewarded for what I did to my father.”

Her heart clenched at that. She remembered what he’d said in her father’s study, how he’d taken the blame for his father’s death. She’d heard the details of what had happened during the battle. Had she been less wrapped up in her own schemes, she might have reassessed the timing of her plan. She bit her lip and took a few steps closer. Her hands begged to reach for him, but she was too afraid he’d evade her touch. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He averted his gaze. “You weren’t there.”

“I didn’t have to be.” She stepped closer again, and this time she did reach for him. Her hands shook as she pressed them to his chest. His heart thumped against her palms. Despite their years of animosity that had resulted from her parents’ trickery, touching him now felt like coming home. Like she hadn’t spent three years thinking he’d abandoned her. “I know you, Larylis. You are the most intelligent man I’ve met. You do nothing without analyzing the alternatives first. You make no choice without weighing it against histories, facts, and probabilities. You are selfless and are constantly trying to make those around you happy and comfortable. You think too little of yourself, but I see you. I know about the difficult choice you made, and I know you made the only one you could.”

He looked down at her, a flash of surprise in his eyes. Then his expression fell, and he looked away from her again. “I can’t help but wonder if it was the wrong decision.”

“You can’t go back.” She lifted a hand from his chest and placed it on his cheek. “ We can’t go back. I’m sorry for what I did and for all the pain I’ve caused. I’m sorry for the rift I may have driven between you and your brother, but…”

She gently turned his cheek until his eyes met hers. Lifting her chin, she spoke with fierce truth. “I don’t regret it. I’d do it again a hundred times if it meant no one would keep us apart again.”

His eyes widened. Mareleau wasn’t sure if they held awe or terror. She didn’t care. This was the real her. If he was to be her husband, he should know she wasn’t a pretty flower. She was a dragon. She would consume the world and burn it to ash to get what she wanted.

Right now, what she wanted was him.

She stepped closer until her chest brushed his. He stiffened but kept his eyes trained on hers. “Tell me this is wrong,” she dared him, angling her head back. “Tell me you don’t want this. Say the word and I’ll step away from you. We can be husband and wife in name only. You can punish me for my lies and punish yourself for your own perceived crimes.”

He said nothing.

She ran her thumb along his jaw, feeling the slightest hint of stubble beneath the pad of her finger. “Tell me, Larylis.”

His breaths turned sharp and shallow, his wide chest pulsing against her breasts. She refused to widen the space between them, refused to give an inch unless he told her to. His moss-green eyes swam with a hunger that sang through her blood, echoing the desire thrumming in her core.

Finally, he slid an arm around her, his palm skating over the laces of her corset. His other hand covered hers—the one still pressed against his cheek. It sparked a memory from the last time they’d stood this close, the last time he’d placed his hand over hers. They’d been in the drawing room, and she’d been working to frantically undress him when he’d stilled her hands and pulled away.

Her heart lurched as she expected him to do the same now. She held her breath, bracing herself for his rejection?—

His lips came down to hers, soft and slow and hungry. She gasped with surprise, with relief, and wound her arms around his neck. They were a tangle of limbs as they moved away from the window. She opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, felt his tongue caress hers. Her legs trembled from the desire that coursed through her, gathering in a burning warmth low in her belly. She gave more and more of her weight over to him, let him lift her beneath her thighs and carry her the rest of the way to the bed. Her back met the plush mattress, the velvet blankets soft against her bare shoulders.

She tugged Larylis closer, searching for buttons to pry loose. He pulled away from her long enough to shrug free from his shirt. She lifted herself on her forearms, desperate not to let the distance between them grow too vast. When he returned to her, his hands moved to her back. With one hand, he untied the laces of her corset. With the other, he unhooked the front closures. Once she was free, he threw the garment on the floor. Her petticoats went next, leaving only her cotton shift to cover her naked flesh.

He paused and pulled back, eyes roving the length of her. The desire filling his gaze was so heady, it emboldened her. With slow motions, she reached for the top of her shift and slowly slid it down her shoulders. Inch by slow inch, she let the cotton skate down her skin, baring her breasts, her torso, her stomach. Finally, she slid it over her hips until she was fully naked before him.

He assessed her again, then leaned in to claim her lips. She pulled back and shook her head. “It’s your turn.”

His lips quirked into a crooked grin—the first smile she’d seen from him all day—and it was the most beautiful sight she’d ever witnessed. Her hands moved to the buttons of his trousers. He trailed kisses down her neck, over her collarbone, over the crest of each breast, as she freed him from his pants. Then, slowly, he lay beside her on the bed, his hands roving her side, her hip, her upper thighs. His gaze turned suddenly timid, but his touch was fire, igniting everywhere their skin met. She bit her lip as his hand curved around her bottom.

“Larylis.” His name came out with a tremor. “I need you. So badly, I need you closer.” She meant it in more ways than one. She wanted his body in this moment more than she’d ever wanted anything. But she wanted his heart too. His mind. His love. The coldness that had stood between them today was too sharp to endure again. They’d already been pulled apart for three years. Now they would be separated again in a matter of days. She’d be stuck at Ridine Castle for at least two weeks, and that didn’t include the travel time to get there. She needed to know a chasm wouldn’t grow between them in her absence. “I need you to love me.”

He drew his hand back up the length of her body, over her thighs, her stomach, her breast, her neck, until he cradled her cheek. Locking his eyes with hers, he said, “With everything that I am, I love you.”

She pulled him down to her and lost herself in his lips, his limbs, his touch. Their hearts met. Their bodies tangled. Amidst the web of lies she’d spun, through the cracks rent by the ferocity of her affection, love dug roots and bloomed.