Ah. The human equivalent of ‘I’d like privacy with my mate.’
“That’s not—we’re not—” I fumbled for words while Dominic watched. “Just go eat bugs, Savory.”
Very well.She spread her wings with exaggerated dignity.But remember, hiding in darkness produces stunted growth.
With that parting wisdom, she took wing and disappeared into the twilight.
Silence settled over the room.
“She’s very wise,” Dominic said, his tone carefully neutral.
“She’s very nosy,” I said, but without heat. “And she makes everything more complicated than it needs to be.”
“Does she, or does she just say what you’re trying not to think about?”
The question hit too close to truth for comfort. I busied myself with my food, trying to regain some equilibrium.
Dominic poked at his meal as well, but something had changed. With Savory gone, we existed in a bubble of firelight and privacy that felt both wonderful and terrifying.
“I want to be honest with you,” Dominic said after a moment. “About something that’s been worrying me.”
I immediately started cataloging possibilities. Court problems, magical threats, and political complications first in my mind. “What is it?”
“I sort of already mentioned it, but I’m afraid that once the giggling stops and the plants revive and the festival is successful…” He paused, his jaw working. “I’m afraid you’ll realize I’m just an ordinary king managing daily court life. No mysteries to solve together, no emergencies requiring your brilliant strategic mind. Just me.”
The vulnerability in his admission made my chest ache. “Dominic?—”
“I know it’s unfair to say this after one day of marriage,” he said, the words coming faster. “But I think you’re remarkable, and I worry that the only interesting thing about me right now is the problems we’re solving together.”
I stared at him, pieces clicking into place. He was afraid of the same thing I was, that this connection between us was only circumstantial, born from the problems we were facing rather than genuine compatibility.
But I’d spent time with him. Watched him care for dying plants with gentle magic, navigate his sometimes-ridiculous court with patience and humor, and show thoughtfulness in everything from lunch delivery to dinner preparation.
“You’re wrong,” I said.
He looked up, hope and uncertainty warring in his expression.
“The most interesting thing about you isn’t the problems we’re solving.” I chose my words carefully, suspecting this admission could shift something between us. “It’s the way you notice when someone might skip lunch because they’reabsorbed in work. The way you speak encouragement to plants that can’t answer back. How you make your court members feel valued even when they’re being ridiculous.”
“Sasha—”
“I came into this marriage expecting a political arrangement,” I said, needing to get it all out before I lost my nerve. “A strategic alliance where we’d work together professionally and maintain polite distance. I told myself that was safest, that anything more would be a distraction from my responsibilities.”
“And now?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Now I’m terrified because I’m realizing I might want more than that.” The admission felt like jumping off a cliff with no broom to fly. “And I don’t know how to want that without losing myself in it.”
Dominic rose, moving around the table to where I sat. He didn’t touch me, just stood close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him.
“What if wanting more doesn’t mean losing yourself?” he asked. “What if it means finding parts of yourself you’ve kept hidden because they felt too risky?”
I looked up at him, this man who I’d married as a stranger and who somehow already saw through my carefully constructed walls.
“I don’t know how to be both the strategist everyone needs and someone who feels things.”
“Maybe you don’t have to choose.” He reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away, and brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Maybe being both is what makes you extraordinary.”
The touch sent warmth cascading through me. Around the room, I felt the plants responding. The vines straightenedfurther, the fern’s fronds uncurled, and even the flowers on the table seeming to glow with more life.
