Page 90 of A Kingdom of Shadow and Ash

Her temple. The lonely tree where offerings were placed. Her castle, standing against a sky filled with wyverns in flight.

It was a piece of her world, etched into the heart of his.

‘The prince arranged the room for you, your highness,’ Klara said behind her. ‘He ensured it would be ready for your wedding day, as a gift. He said he wanted you to feel at home.’

The wordhomestruck like an arrow to her chest. Mal turned sharply, but not before the emotion welled, unbidden, behind her eyes. She strode out onto the balcony, letting the heat of the night wash over her, forcing the tears back before they could fall. She wouldnotcry.

‘Has it made you upset, your highness?’ Klara’s voice wavered. ‘He only meant to make you happy. So you would not miss your home so much.’

Mal nodded, though she kept her back to the girl.

‘Thank you, Klara. You may go now.’

‘But I haven’t helped you into your nightgown—’

‘That will be all,’ Mal snapped, harsher than she intended. She stood rigid, waiting, listening for the sound of retreating footsteps. The door opened, then closed, leaving her in silence.

Slowly, she turned, her fingers trailing over the shelves, the carved wood, the softness of the sheets. The pang in her chest did not stem from grief alone.

The prince had done something…kind.

How long had it taken? How many days—weeks—had he spent preparing, learning of her homeland, ensuring each detail was right? It washiskingdom.Shewas the one expected to conform, to change. And yet, he had given her this.

A cruel prince would not have done such a thing.

The rumours had painted him as a silent specter, cold and unyielding. And silent he was, but… cruel? No. No, a cruel man would not have gone to such lengths to make a stranger—hiswife—feel at ease.

And yet, someday, she would have to kill him.

The door creaked open once more.

‘I can undress myself, Klara,’ Mal said dismissively, without turning. But there was no reply. She spun towards the entrance, her breath catching when she sawhim.

Ash stood by the door, silent as ever, watching her. His golden eyes traced the length of her dress, dark and unreadable. And then, as if realising what he was doing, he cleared his throat.

His wedding uniform still clung to him, the ceremonial layers stiff and formal, though he shifted uncomfortably in them. Mal’s attention landed on his hand—to the silver band circling his finger. He twisted it absently, as if unaccustomed to its weight.

With a sigh, he began stripping away the layers of his uniform, removing each piece with the same careful precision he gave to everything else. His sword was the last to go, leaned reverently against the wall beside his boots. Left in only a simple shirt and trousers, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as if the weight of the day pressed heavily upon him.

‘I…’ He hesitated, then cleared his throat again. ‘Do not touch my things.’ He gestured towards his discarded armour and weapon before she could even open her mouth to tell him she had no intention of doing so. ‘Maids will be less suspicious if they…’ Another pause, as though the words were difficult to shape. ‘If they see my things here.’

Mal narrowed her eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

He looked at her then, truly looked at her, the words poised on his tongue but somehow refusing to fall.

And then—

‘Goodnight, Princess.’

Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the adjoining room.

Mal waited, unmoving. Would he return? Would he slip into the bed beside her while she slept? The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She exhaled sharply, pushing aside the uncertainty. If he was going to leave, then he should at leastsay so.

Resolute, she strode towards the study and pushed the door open—

Only for the words to wither on her lips.

The room was bathed in quiet candlelight, filled with the rich scent of parchment and ink. And there, curled into an armchair shaped like a nest, lay Ash, fast asleep.

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