When he straightens, he looks every inch a royal prince. He says, “It was your idea to fake my death to break me out of there in the first place. How would you break me back in?”
We’re partners in every way, I realize. I trust him, and he trusts me. He respects my judgment and asks my opinion the way he would Marcus, or any of his royal advisors. He wants to know what I think. And what do I think? I think…I think…
“Aren?” he asks.
“Okay, so maybe I have an idea.”
His smile widens. “That’s my girl.”
Chapter Fifty
Dietan
Breaking me out of the castle was one thing. Breaking me in is another one entirely.
The plan is simple yet intricately layered. Each step must be executed as perfectly as possible to get us in the door.
I slowly dress in commoner’s clothes, making sure they look plain and nondescript. I will need to be unassuming, forgettable, invisible.
I pick up the little dish of ground leaves that Aren set on the table for me. I start combing the paste through my hair with my fingers, until my golden waves are convincingly chestnut brown. Pulling a hood over my head, I tuck it low over my brow to obscure most of my face. Hopefully, no one will be looking too closely at peasants’ faces, especially the faces of those who might be undead princes.
Over my shoulder, I catch sight of Aren as she finishes dressing, and I’m drawn toward her like she’s tangled up my heartstrings. She notices me watching and gives me a small smile. “Are you ready?” she asks.
“With you, my love, for anything.”
“Really?” Aren quirks an eyebrow. “The whole ‘my love’ thing? Still?”
“Well, aren’t you?”
She twists her hair back into a simple bun, securing it at the base of her neck. “But you only used to call me that because we were pretending to be engaged. You didn’t really mean it, so it feels weird now.”
“I see. What would you prefer?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you complaining?”
Aren smirks. “I just assumed you’d come up with something more creative.”
I swagger over to her. “What about my sweetheart, my Aren?”
“Hmmm. That sounds like you own me.”
Placing my hands on her arms, I pull her close and gaze deeply into her eyes. “You have it entirely backward. You own me, body and soul.”
I love how I can fluster her so. I like the way she blushes and goes speechless. She rolls her eyes, but I know I have her where I want her…and I want her very badly. “We’ll work on it later,” I murmur as I take her in my arms.
“But—the others?”
“The door’s locked,” I say. “And everyone’s already outside.”
“Won’t they wonder where we are?” she asks, looking over her shoulder to the window.
“Nah,” I say, lifting her skirt and maneuvering us so her back is pressed against the wall, away from the window.
“We’ll have to be quiet,” she whispers, even as she slides her hand down my trousers. “And fast.”
I grin, body heating like it does every time I’m with her. “As my lady commands.”
