I caught myself whistling an old fae tune my mother used to sing when I was small.
Preparing for dinner with Sasha made me feel lighter than I had in ages.
I heard the water shut off in the bathing chamber and Sasha moving around, her footsteps soft on the stone. Knowing she was only a wall away, preparing for the same evening that I was, made me both excited and nervous.
She’d be out of the bathing chamber soon. I needed to make myself presentable.
I took the hall to my room, closing the door and listening until I heard her enter her own bedroom.
Grabbing my things, I hurried to the bathing chamber, where I stripped my robes off and bathed quickly, cleansing my teeth. After combing my hair, I donned a light robe and returned to my room, staring around.
What to wear? It needed to be nice but not too formal. Iwanted Sasha to feel like this was a comfortable dinner between equals, not another royal obligation to navigate.
I sorted through my wardrobe, running my hands over various options. The deep green tunic would complement my eye color nicely, but that might be too obvious. The midnight blue seemed elegant without being stuffy. The charcoal gray with silver threading—No, that was too formal.
Finally, I selected a tunic in burgundy with subtle gold embroidery at the collar and cuffs, pairing it with black pants. Elegant enough to show I’d made an effort, yet casual enough to be comfortable.
I dressed quickly and stood in front of the mirror to study the result. Not bad. The burgundy brought out the green in my eyes, and the cut of the tunic flattered without being too obvious about it.
Now for my hair.
I’d never been particularly vain, but I couldn’t deny that first impressions mattered. And since our actual first impression had been me giggling through our wedding vows, I’d like to make a better second impression.
I let magic flow through my fingers as I ran them through my hair, styling it into something that looked casual but intentional. Not too perfect. I didn’t want to seem like I’d spent hours fussing. I just wanted to look good, the kind of good that suggested I’d made an effort because this evening mattered to me.
Because she mattered to me.
The realization settled over me. After one day of marriage, I was already falling for my serious, strategic, plant-loving witch wife.
Fates help me.
I turned away from the mirror, pacing the length of myroom as nervous energy built in my chest. What would we talk about? The investigation, certainly. She’d spent the afternoon examining tea samples and probably had theories to share. But I wanted to know more about her as a person. I wanted to know about her childhood, her dreams, what made her laugh when she wasn’t fighting against uncontrollable magical giggling.
I wanted to know this woman I now called my wife.
I didn’t like feeling this vulnerable. I’d spent years perfecting the art of showing people what they wanted to see while keeping my real self carefully hidden. It was safer that way, less risky, and easier to maintain.
But with Sasha, I found myself wanting to drop my defenses. To let her see the real Dominic beneath the charming king façade. To trust that she might value that person as much as the useful problem-solver I’d been this morning.
A knock rang out on my door.
“Dominic?” Sasha’s voice filtered through the wood. “Are you ready? I wasn’t sure what time we were eating.”
My heart jumped. “Almost. Just finishing up.”
“Alright. I’ll be in the sitting area.”
As she walked away, I took a deep breath. This was it. Our first chance to build something real.
I just hoped I wouldn’t ruin it with my nervousness.
One last check in the mirror. Hair good, clothes good, appearance generally acceptable.
I opened the door and walked into the sitting room, ready to discover whether the spark between us could grow into something more.
Or if I was destined to always wonder what might’ve been.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
