Page 78 of Bride of the Fae Prince

Funny how a new fear always seems to pop up in the wake of another!

I get to my feet, clench my fists at my side, and force myself to cross the distance to the door.I can do this. I can do this. I can—

The door swings open. And there’s Ash.

He wears a long, midnight blue tunic that reaches his mid-thigh. The throat is open in a deep V, which is heavily embroidered in a thick, shimmering silver thread in the pattern of fauns, fruit trees, and what might be dancing nymphs. A heavy gold medallion with a gleaming sapphire the size of my fist hangs from his neck. He wears tall boots that hug his calves almost up to his knees, and a pair of dark breeches that somehow catch the light with his movement. His long hair is swept back, partially tied at the back of his head, revealing the tips of his pointed ears. He’s got a ring on almost every finger, and a large, gleaming silver crown atop his head.

The sight of him, so tall and majestic, looking so very princely, completely halts my own self-consciousness. I’m once again struck with a sense of awe that I ammarriedto thePrinceof theFae.This is my life.

This is my husband.

His gaze sweeps over me in similar appraisal. Is it just my imagination that they’re a little wider than normal? That a muscle just jerked in his jaw? That’s when the awareness of my almost bare legs hits me so hard I do the only thing I can—I cover my chest.

Ash’s attention returns to my face, his expression shifting as a line creases his brow. “You don’t like the dress?”

There’s disappointment in his tone again. It hits me hard—but not as hard as before. I can better notice it now, how much I amtempted to quickly assure him that I do, indeed, love the dress. But that would be a lie, and I am ready to be honest with him.

“It is b-beautiful,” I say carefully, still covering the bit of exposed chest. “I am simply not c-comfortable with . . . bare legs!”

His gaze sweeps back over me, his brow knit. “Your legs aren’t bare.”

“Theypracticallyare!”

He chews the inside of his lip. “I can glamour it, if it would make you more comfortable. Would you perhaps . . .” He gestures at my hands. “Want other adjustments?”

I nod quickly. He gives me a rueful smile. That’s when it clicks: he’s not disappointed inme,but he picked this dress out, didn’t he? He’s disappointed that he didn’t please me.

Oh.

Ash bends down, catches my face in his hands, and presses his forehead to mine. This time, I close my eyes with him, feel the rush of something deep inside me, around me, whirling like the ribbons of a dancer. His skin is warm against mine.

What would happen if he and I hadtimetogether?

I think I could love him. I’m halfway there already. And while I don’t want to be presumptuous, he certainlyseemsto be partial to me as well. But humans and fae are very different. There is always the possibility that I misread him.

Or that everything has been a lie.

Does the truth even matter if I don’t survive the next few days?

Ash lets go of me and pulls away. I glance down, discovering that the low neckline has been replaced with a demure sweetheart neckline, with a sweep of fabric that follows the curves of the dress to join with my sleeves. And beneath the translucent skirt is a layer of glittering ice-blue material.

It’s beautiful.

Now I no longer feel exposed, and instead, I can gape down at the stunning gown. It moves with me like water without the confines and wires of the gowns back home. I’m grinning and I cannot help it. I turn that grin up at Ash to find a warm smile on his face, and a softness in his eyes.

“Smile like that, and no fae glamours can hold a candle to you,” he says.

“What?” I blurt.

He smirks and takes my hand, drawing me out of the bathing chamber toward the door of his suite. Toward whatever awaits us tonight at this banquet. He ducks his head closer to mine, saying in a low tone, “I think you know exactly what I said and exactly what I meant. But if you want another assurance that I find you exquisitely beautiful—”

“Oh no!” I hurry to say, flushing hotter. “That is . . . um, one assurance is enough! Multiple is much too overwhelming.”

He chuckles, his smirk widening. “Perhaps you ought to adjust yourself to being overwhelmed.”

“I couldn’t do such a thing!”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “You couldn’t?”

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