Ignoring him, I nuzzled Prisca’s cheek. She pinched me.
I heaved a sigh. “Fine. But then we’re leaving. I’m tired of everyone talking and looking at you. I want you to myself.”
“Possessive man.”
I stepped away, but not before giving Rythos a warning look. He would never attempt anything with Prisca. But it was good to remind him of the immediate consequences, just in case he ever lost his sanity.
Both of them rolled their eyes.
I stepped away, prepared to at least find something to drink if I couldn’t dance with my own wife at my own wedding.
“Pouting, brother?”
Conreth gazed at me, hands on hips. For once, his words didn’t carry any true animosity or mockery. His eyes danced, inviting me to join him.
Despite the people clamoring for Prisca’s attention, I was in a good mood.
“Rythos,” I grumbled, and Conreth grinned, handing me a drink.
“Thanks.”
We watched them dance for a moment. Rythos said something to make Prisca laugh, her smile lighting up the entire room.
“You seem happy,” Conreth murmured.
“I am.”
“If that ever changes…”
Our eyes met. His expression was casual, but I saw the offer for what it was. He was saying I could come back. That everything could return to the way it was.
I stared straight into his eyes. Our father’s eyes.
“An accident of birth made me a fae prince. And I gave up that title because I could never have stayed by Prisca’s side otherwise. I regret nothing.”
He frowned. “You say that now. Titles aren’t meaningless, Lorian.”
I shrugged. “I was a fae prince, and now I’m Prisca’s mate and husband. I know which titles mean more to me. Which titles I wear with pride and will until the day I die. Besides, she has a title of her own.”
“Her title as the hybrid heir?”
“No.” I bared my teeth. “Mine.”
After a long moment, Conreth offered me a smile. “You have something special. Thank you for allowing me to be here today.”
I nodded. I didn’t point out that I was getting something in return, and Conreth chose not to mention it either.
But his hand slid to his neck. And I tensed as he slowly removed one of the amulets, holding it out to me.
“What are you doing?”
“It doesn’t make strategic sense for me to have both of them.”
“So give one of them to a fae you trust.”
“You are a fae I trust.”
“My loyalty is to the hybrids.”