“Of course it is. Like I said, this is your home, too.”
“Eryx Nightshade!” We both glance over as a woman in a white chef’s hat and white coat enters. Her dark hair is streaked with gray, and it’s smashed into a bun that sits at the base of her neck. “What do you mean going off and getting married without telling anyone? Who made your wedding cake?”
“Oh, Darla, um…” He turns bright pink. “No one.”
“No one!” She throws up her hands. “What am I going to do with you. And is this your wife? Are you the woman who tamed this wild beast?”
She’s a small woman, but I can tell she has a lot of personality.
“Darla, meet Chelsea Thornrose…er, Nightshade.”
I flinch when he says my new name, and he catches it, the skin around his eyes tightening.
Chelsea Nightshade.
Not Chelsea Thornrose anymore. I'm someone else now. Someone married to the Nightmare King. Someone who lives in eternal darkness with a man who has a voice in his head.
The weight of it hits me all at once.
Eryx's expression shifts—something flashes across his face before he masks it.
Darla takes one look at me, comes around from the counter and wraps me in a bear hug. “So great to meet you. Now, don’t lie and say this guy didn’t charm you, because no doubt he did. Look at his dimples! This is a face that could launch a thousand ships. You can tell Helen of Troy to suck it!”
“Darla,” Eryx says in a warm, warning voice.
“What? You’re handsome, smart. Thousands of women wanted to marry you, and you went off and eloped without telling anyone. And not just any woman—a Castleview witch! Half the district's buzzing about it. The other half's scandalized." She winks at me. "Good. Place needs a little scandal.”
Then she turns her attention back to Eryx. “You’re lucky yesterday was my off day or you would’ve gotten a knuckle sandwich. Oh my Lord! Who let that shadow dog in here?”
“I did,” I say as Darla grabs a cast-iron skillet and tiptoes toward shadow. “He’s mine.”
“Yours?” She stares wide-eyed at Eryx. “You’re letting her keep a shadow dog?”
Eryx sips his coffee. “She asked nicely.”
“It’s love!”
I think we both turn red at that.
“Today I’m making you the best wedding cake you can get. Mistress, do you like chocolate? Vanilla? What’s your favorite?”
“Red velvet?”
She claps her hands. “I like you. That’s what you’ll have—for dinner—and sir, if you’d like to invite some people to dinner, that would be even better.”
“I’ll see who Stave and I can round up.”
Darla drops her voice to a stage whisper. “Don’t tell Nancy about the cake.” She glances at me. “Has anyone told you about Nancy yet?”
“I’ve met her.”
“And you’re still here? Eryx, you’ve married a saint. Now, as much as I love having company in here while I’m cooking, I’ve got to have my head on straight if I’m going to bake you a cake. Can I send up breakfast?”
“I’m not hungry,” Eryx says.
“I just ate.”
Darla eyes my plate. “Who made that for you?”
