Page 86 of The Chains You Defy

“Shush.”

Although I clung to the pretense that I was annoyed, I couldn’t help but notice a warm fondness spreading through my middle, chipping at my fortifications. One of the problems was how adorable his reactions sometimes were, especially since they lacked an element of reason.

A pet, for example, couldn’t filter its shenanigans as well, and yet, wasn’t that part of a tamed animal’s charm? Not that I’d voice my musings to Dion—most likely, the fae prince would react even more like a beast, would snap at me, bite me. Oh, on second thought, he had those tendencies—

No, fortifying my defenses was mandatory. Dion wasn’t a domesticated pet to spoil; he was a lethal killer. A tiger might be related to a cat, yet no one would be so stupid as to cuddle such a dangerous predator.

When he finally straightened—without releasing me from his arms, though—Dion’s gaze rested on me. “What you did to your face suits you. Just say the word, and I’ll have more delivered.”

“About that—”

“Hold that thought. I need to freshen up as well.”

Dion spun us around, released me, and rushed through the washroom door.

Shaking my head at the whirlwind of strangeness, I sighed. In the end, I was simply a spectator of the prince’s rapidly changing moods.

What would distract me better from His Royal Strangeness than having a thorough tour of his quarters?

Apart from the giant bed veiled in heavy black drapes identical to those in front of his windows, two wardrobes stood on the left andright sides of the room, dominating the space as much as the four-poster and the broken grand piano in the far corner.

When I peeked into the left one, I was disappointed since the shelves inside were completely empty. The right one, though, was filled with clothes. Mostly black, with a few colorful dots such as darker shades of green, blue, and purple, tailored from the finest fabrics. As far as I could judge, the handiwork was impeccable.

Digging deeper, I spotted an ensemble in dark crimson, threaded and richly embroidered in gold instead of the silver adorning most of the other garments. Dion might have a preference for black, but I made up my mind to convince him to wear the red finery sometime.

Shutting the wardrobe the same moment as the door to the washroom opened, my head spun to the prince.

“Ah, someone is snooping around.”

“It’s not snooping, but exploring. After all, you insisted I move in here too, princeling.”

“Meddlesome as always.” Dion’s lips morphed into a smirk, and the view in front of me stole my breath.

Dion’s dimples were a sight to behold, even more so in his fae form. By the Triad, how could that even be allowed?

Also, the fine silk tunic, of course in black with silver embroidery, flattered him. With his hair loose, framing his face and cascading down his back like an inky veil, he looked every part the fae prince he was.

Transfixed by my weakness—his dimples—I registered too late that he’d stalked to me once more and tucked me back into his embrace. His nose returned to the crook of my neck, and since his breath and lips tickled, I couldn’t suppress a squeal.

High time to distract the clingy fae—and have some nagging questions answered.

“How often do you use kohl? You don’t even seem the type who does.”

“Uhm, I don’t.” Dion’s voice sounded muffled since he refused to lift his head.

“Oh? But there’s an entire tray with beauty products in your washroom.”

Dion stiffened as my distraction came to fruition. A coil in my stomach tightened as he straightened.

“Danartha would be my guess. I bet she ordered some servant to stock my bathing chamber with her stuff.”

“Danartha, huh?” My eyebrow shot up, and the unwanted picture of a female fae so beautiful my brain hurt—sprawled out on the four-poster—haunted my vision.

Shrugging, Dion made a face as if he’d bitten into something sour but remained silent.

Maybe he didn’t want to elaborate, but I wouldn’t accept his reluctance to share vital information.

“Your intended?”