Danielle Jensen

Taryn was snoring as though her life depended on it, Gorrick was jabbering in his sleep, and someone—probably Jor—was farting at regular intervals.

eyebrow rose. “You are a charmer, aren’t you, Your Majesty.”

“Do you bestow titles on all your patrons?”

“Only on women with eyes of Veliant blue who travel in the company of Ithicanian spies.”

There seemed little point in trying to dissuade her. “Either pour and talk at the same time, or shut up. I’m in no mood.”

Then they loaded you onto the ship, and you were gone. Off to Ithicana and off, unbeknownst to me at the time, to steal away my favorite lover.”

Lara gave her a sweet smile. “Given you hadn’t seen him in over a year, I’m not sure you had much claim to him at that point. If ever.”

“You are quite the little bitch, aren’t you?”

Lara plucked the glass Marisol was polishing from her hands, filled it, waited for the other woman to raise it, then clinked hers against it. “Cheers to that.”

“Maybe she was expecting a better-looking husband. Some people handle disappointment poorly.”

Aren lifted one eyebrow. “That’s probably the only thing that hasn’t been disappointing for her.”

Jor shook his head. “Maybe she dislikes cocky little bastards.”

“I’ve heard there are kingdoms where the people show a little respect for their monarchs.”

“I can respect you and still think your shit stinks just as bad as the next man’s.”

The canoe had swung around so she was facing away from the cliffs guarding the cove from the sea, but the rattle of the chain caught her attention and she turned to watch a series of vessels enter, her eyes immediately finding Aren in one of them.

And his finding her.

The room was humid with breath and heavy with the smell of sweat and steel. Taryn was snoring as though her life depended on it, Gorrick was jabbering in his sleep, and someone—probably Jor—was farting at regular intervals. It was very likely the least desirable situation to share a bed with his wife for the first time.

“Alive isn’t living.

“Forgive her. She loves you.”

“She doesn’t know what love is.”

“Water is the most important.”

“It’s also heavy.” She heard him drinking, then there was a splash, and he muttered, “God, that feels good. What I wouldn’t give for a swim.”

“Get out!” she shrieked, forcing her eyelids open, her horror at what he was doing worse than the pain.