I looked up at her through tears, expecting judgment or disappointment or that careful blankness she’d shown in response to this yesterday.
“Let’s test something,” she said instead. “Would you mind returning to the greenhouse with me?”
“I’d be happy to,” I managed to say between giggles, rising to my feet.
Her hand found mine, and her touch sent a warm tingle through me. I’d felt the same thing during our wedding ceremony, a connection I couldn’t name but desperately wanted to understand.
We left the dining room, the sounds of uncontrollable laughter echoing behind us.
My mother tried to say something, but it dissolved into giggles before I could make out the words.
CHAPTER SIX
SASHA
The greenhouse humidity wrapped around us as I led Dominic inside, my hand still clasped in his. Touching him sent that same tingling awareness through me, the magical connection I’d felt during our wedding ceremony. I tried to focus on observation rather than the way his fingers curled around mine with surprising gentleness.
His giggling continued, bubbling up every few seconds despite the frustration written across his features. His free hand clenched and unclenched at his side, and his shoulders remained tight with tension that had nothing to do with amusement.
The body speaks truths the mouth cannot,Savory said from my shoulder.Watch how he fights what afflicts him.
“I agree, and I’m thinking about it,” I told her softly.
Good.
“I’m sorry,” Dominic said between chuckles, his leaf-green eyes meeting mine with true distress. “I can’t seem to—” Another giggle cut him off.
“Don’t apologize.” I squeezed his hand, noting how hisjaw tightened with each involuntary laugh. This wasn’t someone finding things funny. This was a person trapped in their own body’s betrayal. “Let’s just walk for a bit. Show me more of the greenhouse.”
I led him down the first row of plants, their wilted leaves drooping despite the carefully maintained temperature and humidity. His giggling remained constant, unchanged by our movement through the space.
“This section used to be all froonwild blossoms,” he said, gesturing to a cluster of particularly sad-looking plants. A laugh interrupted him. “They respond to joy, primarily. During the festival, they’d practically glow with—” Giggle. “—with happiness.”
I studied the plants, then him, cataloging details in the same way that had served me well in strategy work. The giggling didn’t intensify or lessen as we moved. It simply persisted, a steady stream of involuntary mirth that made his ears turn red with embarrassment.
We walked to the back corner where he’d been working this morning, and I noticed his shoulders relax slightly despite the continued laughter.
“You spend a lot of time here,” I said, more a statement than a question.
“Yes.” He knelt beside the blossoms he’d been trying to heal earlier. Even through his giggling, his touch remained gentle as he cupped a wilting bloom. “My mother designed this space. She said every ruler needs somewhere they can be themselves, away from the performance of court.”
The admission suggested there were layers beneath the frivolous façade this man had shown at our wedding. Layers I was only beginning to glimpse.
“The plants never judge,” he said, more laughter escaping. “They don’t care if I’m being the charming king or justmyself. They respond to genuine care, not political maneuvering.”
He trusts green things more than his lords or ladies,Savory said.A wise king, if a lonely one.
I knelt beside him, close enough that our shoulders touched. “Tell me about your mother’s vision for this place.”
His face softened. “She’s always enjoyed working with plants. They don’t judge, she’d say. They see who you truly are. See how the bellaburst blossoms are planted next to those silvaris ferns over there?” He pointed. “She believed that if plants from different magical traditions can thrive side by side, so can our people. I think that can apply to witches and fae, too.”
The hope in his voice, even filtered through involuntary laughter, made my pulled a slow ache through my lungs. He genuinely wanted this alliance to work. Not just politically, but personally.
“That’s beautiful,” I said.
He turned to look at me, and for a moment, his giggling quieted to hiccups. “You really think so?”
“I do.” I reached out, steadying myself on his arm as we rose to our feet. The touch sent warmth racing up my hand. “Would you show me the gardens outside? I’d like to see more of your estate.”
