We float there in the heated water, limbs tangled, both too sated to move. The forest hums with ancient magic around us, accepting our presence, blessing our joining.
"We should go back," I finally murmur, though I make no move to leave his arms.
"Probably." His hands trace lazy patterns on my skin. "In a minute."
"Morwanna will have questions about where we disappeared to."
"Let her question. I'm sure her voyeuristic subjects have already reported back in detail."
The thought should embarrass me. Instead, I find myself smiling against his chest. "You're terrible."
"And you love it."
I do. Gods help me, I really do.
Eventually, we drag ourselves from the water, helping each other dress with hands that linger and lips that can't quite stop stealing kisses. The walk back to the palace is slow, both of us pleasantly exhausted, his arm around my waist keeping me steady.
"Kaan?" I say as the crystalline spires come into view.
"Mm?"
"Thank you. For this. For..." I struggle to find the words. "For making me forget. Even for a little while."
He stops walking, turning me to face him. In the moonlight, his eyes are impossibly dark, impossibly tender.
"Anytime, hatun," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Anytime at all."
And as we slip back into the palace, past knowing smirks from the guards and the occasional giggle from passing sprites, I carry the memory of his undone expression like armor against whatever fresh hell awaits us.
Because tomorrow, we will be back in the Shadow Court, back to prophecies and the weight of saving two realms.
But that moment? That moment was ours.
Queen Morwenna'sprivate chambers are carved from living ice that never melts, walls that pulse with their own cold heartbeat. She sits behind a desk made from what looks like crystallized winter, reviewing documents.
"Ah," she says without looking up, "my favorite political chess pieces. Have you reached a decision?"
Kaan and I exchange a look. We both know we never really had a choice, not if we want to save the Shadow Realm.
"We accept your terms," I say formally.
"Excellent." She sets down her pen. "Then let us begin the sealing."
"Sealing?" Kaan's voice sharpens. "The terms were clear. Territory, Elçin's service, Nesilhan's monthly visits. What else requires sealing?"
Morwenna's smile is ancient and patient. "Every bargain of this magnitude requires a truth offering, Shadow Prince. The deeper the alliance, the deeper the truth." Her gaze slides to me. "Your wife's pain will seal this contract more surely than any signature."
"Absolutely not—" Kaan starts, but Morwenna raises one elegant hand.
"There is also the matter of your bond," she continues, as if he hadn't spoken. "Fae law requires individual consent. A bond as deep as yours muddles where one soul ends and another begins. I cannot accept her truths as wholly her own while your emotions bleed into hers."
The implication settles over me like ice. "You want to sever our bond."
"Partially. Temporarily." Morwenna rises from her desk with fluid grace. "Enough to ensure the truths you offer are yours alone. The bond will heal—eventually. But for now, I require clarity."
Kaan moves in front of me, shadows coiling with protective fury. "Find another way."
"There is no other way." Morwenna's voice carries the weight of centuries. "This is Fae law, not my whim. Refuse, and there is no alliance. No army. No hope for your realm." She tilts her head, studying him with something like curiosity. "You came here seeking twenty thousand warriors. Did you think such a gift came without cost?"
