I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to think past the pounding in my skull. The taste of her lingered. This woman was so bright, maddening, and alive. This was more than magic. It was memory reawakened.
I’d kissed others, some for politics, some for power, a few for pleasure. None of them had left my sensesreeling like this. None had burned the darkness from my chest.
And that was the problem.
I’d created an entire kingdom on restraint, painstakingly building control, mastering my hunger and nudging aside my loneliness. It was the only way I could prove I was worthy of ruling at such a young age.
In one heartbeat, she’d torn it all apart.
I wanted to be furious with her.
I wanted to kiss her again.
Instead, I leaned against the wall and shut my eyes, the echo of her laughter still trapped in my chest.
Twilight deepened outside, painting the windows violet and gold. The courtyard below was still glowing from the remnants of her magic. Petals drifted in lazy spirals, and a few of the plants still winked pink and gold.
I stood in my office, watching it fade.
Her magic didn’t belong here. She’d brought color into a world of gray and joy to a kingdom that had forgotten the word. The longer I looked, the more I wanted to hold onto it, though, because it reminded me of what I’d lost.
Who I’d lost.
A soft scratching at my door broke the silence. When I opened it, there was no one there. Until I looked down.
Quandary sat on his haunches, blinking up at me with what appeared to be concern.
“She didn’t send you,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
The creature shook his head and padded into my office. He flew up onto my desk, careful not to disturb the papers, and sat there, watching me.
“I’m not in the mood for company,” I told him.
The drake tilted his head. With deliberate care, he breathed out a tiny flame that shaped itself into a miniature version of Cyrene, spinning in a dance. The flame-figure twirled, laughed silently, then dissolved.
“That’s not helping,” I said.
He made a sound remarkably like a sigh, then curled into a ball, clearly intending to stay.
After a moment, I returned to the window, pretending to ignore him. But his presence, irritatingly enough, made the room feel less empty.
By the time he’d left, and I returned to my chambers, the corridors buzzed with rumors. Servants froze when I passed, conversations dying mid-sentence. I ignored them all.
What I couldn’t ignore was the voice in my head pointing out the contradiction of my anger. I’d wanted the court to believe our marriage was real. Now they were starting to believe, but they thought it was because I was bewitched.
In the game of court politics, this was what victory looked like. I should be celebrating. Instead, I wassulking because the kiss had felt too real. For a moment I’d forgotten it was supposed to be an act. My ancestors would be rolling in their crypts if they could see me now. Me, the great shadow king, undone by a kiss that had achieved exactly what he wanted.
The hall outside my door was empty except for Lord Broadworthy, who bowed stiffly.
“My king,” he said. “The court awaits clarification on the display.”
“Clarification?” I said. “It was a kiss, not a treaty amendment.”
His mouth twitched. “Yes, but it seems to have sparked speculation.”
“Speculation is the currency of the bored. Let them spend it.”
The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d laid out instructions for a charade, then balked when Cyrene executed it flawlessly. What had I expected? That she would play the docile, adoring wife without actually touching me? There was no way I could keep her at arm’s length while simultaneously convincing everyone we had a true marriage.
