SASHA
Ismoothed the deep blue silk of my gown for the tenth time, then caught myself and forced my hands still. The fabric whispered against my skin with each movement and looked elegant but not overly formal. I’d chosen it specifically to appear diplomatic, whatever that might be.
The lie sat heavy in my chest.
Savory perched on the back of the chair across from me, her black eyes far too knowing.
The gardener who claims she’s only watering for duty’s sake still chooses the finest blooms,she said.
“I’m representing the witch kingdom now.” I adjusted the neckline. “It would be disrespectful to appear slovenly.”
And the extra time with your hair? Was that diplomatic necessity?
I touched my locket. “Can’t I simply want to look presentable for dinner?”
You’ve never fussed this much over appearance before. Even at formal witch council meetings, you did not dress with anticipation.
“I didn’t fuss.”
You changed gowns three times.
“Twice,” I snapped, then realized that didn’t help my case. “And I was simply ensuring I projected the right level of formality.”
Savory made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle.The heart plants seeds the mind hasn’t given permission to grow.
I wanted to argue, but the truth stuck in my throat. Ihadtaken extra care with my appearance. The deep blue brought out the color of my eyes, and I’d left my hair down rather than braid it, letting the dark waves fall past my shoulders. The gown’s cut flattered without being too obvious.
And I’d done it all while telling myself it meant nothing.
After taking a deep breath, I left my bedroom and walked into the sitting area, Savory swooping out to join me.
The fire crackled in the hearth, giving the room a rosy glow. Even the wilted plants scattered throughout our suite looked slightly less droopy, as if they’d sensed the shift in the room’s emotional energy.
Or perhaps that was my imagination.
I moved to the window, looking out over the gardens below. Twilight had settled in, and the magical lights had begun their nightly awakening. But all I could focus on was the nervous flutter in my belly.
This was ridiculous. I was a strategist, someone who thrived on planning and analysis. Dinner with my husband shouldn’t reduce me to this anxious mess of contradictions.
Yet here I was, caught between wanting to keep things professional and genuinely curious about who Dominic was beneath the crown and charm.
People depended on me to stay focused. My sisters hadneeded me strong after our parents died, and now an entire court needed me to help solve new problems. Romance was a luxury I couldn’t afford, a potential weakness that could make me miss crucial details.
But then I remembered the way Dominic had knelt in the greenhouse this morning, gently encouraging the dying flowers. I’d found genuine distress in his eyes when his giggling interrupted our wedding vows. He’d sent a meal to our suite because he’d suspected I’d lose track of time.
The decorative vines along the windowsill had straightened slightly, their leaves looking less curled than they had an hour ago. The small potted fern on the side table looked greener, more vibrant.
Were they responding to my emotions, feeding off whatever hopeful energy I was apparently broadcasting?
Your magic knows what your mind refuses to acknowledge,Savory said.
Before I could reply, Dominic stepped into the sitting room.
It was all I could do to breathe.
He wore a burgundy tunic with subtle gold embroidery, the color bringing out the green in his eyes. His dark blond hair had been styled in a way that looked elegant yet tousled, and the smile he gave me when our gazes met sent heat through my chest.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
