I swallowed and lifted the cake to my mouth. Sweet cream melted on my tongue. Honey oozed out with the bite and tangled with the soft cake. A sigh slid through my lips before I could stop it.
Jonas smirked, rather pleased with himself. He spun back toward the cooking room. “Success, Ylva.”
My cheeks heated. I didn’t realize the woman had been standing in the doorway holding her walking stick in front of her body, watching and waiting.
I offered my best smile, but feared it came out more like a sneer.
Another bite and another, until my stomach protested the sweetness with half the cake left. “You may need to finish it for me.”
Jonas took the plate from my hand and pinched off messy pieces. “Now you know I eat like a little who has not learned to control his hands.”
“This was . . . thoughtful of you.”
The prince simply shrugged and placed the plate on the stone bench when he finished.
“What will you want from me in return?” I lifted my chin, terrified for the response.
“What do you mean?”
“This was generous. I should repay the favor.”
“It was a cake, Fire.”
That damn name. “Most would expect such gestures be repaid.”
“Like a transaction.”
“Well, yes.”
“How shall you repay me then? Shall I request my favorite meals made by your hands?”
“They will be scorched and horrid, but if it is your desire . . .”
“So compliant.” The prince met my eyes like he could see through the façade. “It was a cake, Princess. A way to bring a bit of familiarity on your first morning here. Nothing more.”
I snorted. “I’ve learned there is always something more expected.”
Jonas let out a sigh. “I should’ve anticipated you’d make this difficult. I’m not certain you trust your own hands not to be plotting something against you.”
“I’m not being difficult.” My voice was strained. “But when folk try to embrace the little elven monster there is something expected in return.”
“Stop calling yourself such things.”
“Is it not true?”
“I do not see you as a monster. I see you as my wife.”
“But not really.” What was it about this man that flared a dormant temper and a reckless tongue? No doubt, he enjoyed it.
“What are you insinuating?”
“I have not come to you as a wife since we took vows.” The moment the words spilled out, I wanted to snatch them back and sink into the cold nothingness of my own magic.
Jonas towered over me, a dark gleam of something heated in his eyes. “You mean my bed?”
“It is an expectation.” Gods, why was I even bringing attentionto such a thing when the full moon was tomorrow and we would have no choice but to sleep beside each other? It was his nearness. It unsettled me, cracked more hysterics, and a bit of fear that loosened my tongue. “Unless you find me unappealing.”
“Ah, there is so much wrong with those words.” Jonas lowered his voice. “You still fear me, and I don’t want my wife to look at me like I might slit her throat as she comes.”
