“Impossible. My devotion outshines the sun itself.”
They swept out of the greenhouse still arguing, leaving Dominic and me standing in welcome silence.
I glanced up at Dominic. “That was…”
“Overwhelming?”
“I was going to say interesting.”
His laugh came out low and genuine, with no trace of the uncontrollable giggling from yesterday, thank the fates. “You’re very diplomatic.”
“I assure you, it took practice.” He turned his sparkling gaze my way. “Wouldyou like to have breakfast? If you haven’t eaten already. Or if you don’t want to eat alone.”
“I’d love to have breakfast with you.” The words popped out before I could think them through, but I actually did want to share a meal with my new husband. “I’ll do my best to gaze into your soul.”
His snort rang out. “I vow to do the same.”
We moved to the sink at the side of the greenhouse, taking turns washing the soil from our hands. The water ran cool and clear, and I focused on the simple task to avoid thinking about how close Dominic stood, how his rolled-up sleeves revealed strong forearms, and how his nearness felt both unsettling and oddly comfortable.
We walked to the informal dining room together. Themorning light had grown stronger now, streaming through the windows and highlighting the subtle details of the manor house. I took in the carved doorframes, the enchanted portraits of older fae whose eyes tracked us as we passed, and the clusters of drooping plants in need of attention.
“The problem’s everywhere, isn’t it?” I said, stopping to study a large gustivast tree with limbs stretching toward the cathedral ceiling.
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“We’ll figure it out.”
He paused, blinking down at me, before he gave me a slow smile. “Yes. We will.”
I told my heart to behave and stop hopping around inside my chest, but it didn’t appear willing to listen.
The second dining room was smaller than the formal space he’d shown me yesterday, with a table that seated perhaps a dozen people comfortably. Someone had already set two places at one end, as if they’d known we were coming.
Fae magic could be unsettling that way.
Dominic waited while a chair slid out for me, before gesturing I sit ahead of him, a courtly gesture that felt less formal here in the quiet morning space. I settled into it, Savory hopping from my shoulder to the back of an adjacent chair.
“What do you prefer for breakfast?” Dominic asked as he sat to my right. There was something endearing about the careful way he phrased his question, like my preferences actually mattered to him.
“Something simple,” I said. “Toast, maybe. Fruit. Primwort if you have it. With a touch of cream. I love tea but it doesn’t agree with my belly.”
“Primwort it is, then.”
He lifted a bell off the table and rang it once. Within moments, a young fae woman with silver and blue hair appeared, giving us both deep curtsies.
“Toast, fruit, and primwort for Her Majesty,” Dominic said. “And the same for me, please. Except tea instead of primwort. Also…” He paused, glancing at Savory. “Do ravens prefer fresh meat or would seeds be better?”
He asks instead of assuming.Savory sounded pleased.Rare wisdom in any creature, but especially in kings, is a gift that must be savored. Tell him I’ll have both.
“Fresh meat would be wonderful,” I said. “Small pieces. Plus some seeds. Sunworst and toomerine, if you have them.”
“Of course, Your Majesties.” The servant left through the door on one end of the room.
Dominic leaned back in his chair.
“So,” he said, his eyes finding mine. “Tell me honestly. How overwhelming is fae court life compared to what you’re used to?”
The question caught me off guard. I’d expected small talk or careful diplomatic dancing, not a direct invitation to share my real feelings.
