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ASSESS YOUR WIFE’S MAGIC (WITH ULTERIOR MOTIVES)

ARABELLA

I woke to the mournful howl of wind circling the tower. After blinking away the haze of sleep, I peered over my pillow barricade, only to find rumpled sheets where Kazimir should have been.

A cluster of black roses waited on the bedside table—a sign that I was still a valuable prisoner-bride after the fiasco with the Heirloom? Or a prelude to ritual sacrifice? When I poked one, it snapped at my fingertip.

“Charming,” I grumbled. “Even your apology flowers have teeth.”

I splashed my face with cold water until I was awake enough to attempt the stairs.

Then, I wrapped a silk robe around my shoulders and left Kazimir’s chamber.

He’d allowed me to keep my personal rooms for daytime use, and I had no intention of lingering in his domain one second longer than necessary.

My bare feet froze on the stone steps, but I didn’t dare bring up more clothes. It would only encourage him.

By the time I reached my chambers, Pip was arranging breakfast on a side table. He jumped at my entrance. “My lady! I didn’t expect you so early.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Relax, Pip, you’re not going to the dungeons for seeing me in my nightclothes… not today, anyway.”

His face turned ghostly pale, suggesting my attempt at dark humor might need refinement. “I—I brought extra pastries. The kitchen staff said you barely ate anything yesterday.”

“The kitchen is keeping tabs on my appetite?” I asked, picking up a pastry that oozed sweet fruit filling.

“They’re worried you’ll weaken,” Pip said in a hushed rush, “especially with your magical training starting today.”

A flicker of anticipation ran through me. I was about to unlock my power under the tutelage of the most nightmarishly talented sorcerer in the realm. It was almost worth being kidnapped for.

Pip’s hands shook as he poured tea. “Thorne says it’s the first time he’s seen the Dark Lord so focused since the Midnight Drought incident.”

“The what incident?” I slipped behind the dressing screen, where I’d already laid out clothes.

“Years ago, he redirected an entire kingdom’s river system overnight—dried up lakes, left thousands starving. Fantastic, right?” Pip fidgeted with a napkin. “But people who swore fealty got their water back, so there’s that.”

I poked my head around the screen. “How magnanimous. So geographical rearrangement is just another weekday for him?”

“The Dark Lord rarely sleeps,” Pip replied. “Cook swears he’s part demon. Thorne threatened to gag her if she kept spreading rumors. Of course, no one truly knows what happened during the so-called Incident That Shall Not Be Named.”

I tugged my tunic into place and stepped out from behind the screen. “Oh, a forbidden event. I like a little mystery before breakfast.”

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s just servant gossip, my lady.”

I bit into another pastry and perched on a chair’s edge, giving Pip a pointed look. “How long have you worked for him?”

“Almost two years,” he said. “I was apprenticed to a carpenter before that, until my master was killed when Lord Blackrose’s forces arrived.”

I set down my pastry. “I’m sorry.”

He quickly shook his head. “It wasn’t Lord Blackrose. It was a guardsman who accused my master of hiding weapons when he only had tools. After that, the Dark Lord had orphaned apprentices brought here to fill positions. Said skilled labor shouldn’t be wasted.”

My chewing slowed. “He did?” I couldn’t quite picture him as a savior of orphans, but apparently even wicked overlords had layers.

Pip forced a weak smile. “He’s terrifying but fair, in his own twisted way. If you do your job well, you eat. If you fail… Well, you don’t.”

I finished my eggs, then sipped my tea thoughtfully. “And what about people outside the citadel? How are they faring under his rule?”

Pip’s eyes flicked to the still-open door. “Better than most believe. At least they have protection from raiders or mercenaries. The king’s guard doesn’t bother much with remote villages.”

“Protection, or extortion?” I challenged softly.

His gaze dropped. “My cousin’s village got raided last winter and the king’s men arrived too late—only to demand taxes from what little was left. People under Lord Blackrose are heavily taxed but safe, so… they don’t mind so much.”

It sounded suspiciously practical, especially for the realm’s biggest villain. “You’re surprisingly open with me, Pip,” I observed.

“Lord Blackrose told us to answer your questions honestly. Said it’d be worse if you caught us lying.” He swallowed. “He also said if we upset you, we’d get reassigned to scrubbing blood off dungeon walls.”

I must have looked alarmed, because he hurried on, “But you healed my hand, so I’d have told you anyway.”

A knock at the door interrupted us, and Vex swept in, her silver eyes skimming my attire and breakfast remnants in one motion.

“Good, you’re dressed.” She set down a pair of leather boots. “You’ll need these. The Dark Lord wants you in the training chamber in ten minutes.”

I scooped them up and gave them a cautious once-over before dropping into a seat to pull them on.

Vex turned to Pip. “Out.” He nearly flew out the door. “We can’t be late. The Dark Lord hates tardiness.”

I tied the laces, rolling my eyes. “I wouldn’t want to upset the schedule of the man who kidnapped me. Heaven forbid I disrupt his sense of order.”

Standing, I tested my balance. The boots molded to my feet as if I’d worn them for years. I took a few experimental steps, admiring how they supported without restricting movement. Damn him for getting even this right. Was there anything more infuriating than a competent villain?

“Let’s go,” Vex said from the doorway.

I hurried to follow her out. After all, being taught magic by a possessive Dark Lord might be the strangest opportunity of my life. And if it gave me even a shred of power back, I was more than ready to seize it.