Page 67 of The Dark Lord's Guide to Dating

I sighed in mock regret. “Pity.”

I mounted my own horse, and we set out along a winding path through the pines. Thorne and two guards rode ahead, another pair behind, giving us a measure of privacy.

“You ride well,” I noted after a while.

Arabella stayed quiet for a breath or two. “It’s something I’ve always enjoyed.” She shot a glance at our enclosed guard detail. “Why bother with an escort? You could annihilate a militia with your magic, all by yourself.”

“The escort isn’t for me,” I said, ducking under an overhanging branch. “It’s a courtesy to Morana. She enjoys the illusion that I respect her territory enough to observe her protocols.”

Arabella snorted. “Or that you don’t overshadow her by flaunting just how powerful you really are.”

“Precisely. All power structures rest on fragile egos. Hers, mine, everyone’s.” I caught her gaze. “I’m managing them, just as I manage you.”

She gave me a sidelong look. “And who’s managingyou?”

“You’ve been doing a fine job,” I said truthfully. “My ego has never been so bruised and inflated at the same time.”

Arabella murmured a low, noncommittal sound, but a ghost of a smile crossed her face.

Soon enough, the forest gave way to open highlands. The morning sun crept higher, lighting up the rolling hills dotted with standing stones. Jagged mountains guarded the horizon. Arabella’s face turned toward the sunlight, her posture relaxing—no doubt enjoying her first taste of freedom from the citadel.

“You’re staring,” she said without turning.

I didn’t bother to deny it. “Just making sure you’re not foolishly planning to run.”

She finally glanced my way, an amused gleam in her eye. “You already pointed out I wouldn’t risk it. So, obviously, you’re enjoying the view.”

I let the moment stretch, savoring her self-assured challenge. “Maybe I am.”

We rode for a while in comfortable silence, with Arabella still drinking in the view. Finally, she looked at me. “I know Skyspire isn’t the extent of your domain, but how much of this is yours?”

“My territories extend from the eastern sea to these highlands, north to the mountains, and south to the desert.”

“All conquered?”

“Some conquered. Some negotiated.” I adjusted my reins. “Some inherited.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Inherited from your family?”

The mention of my family sent a familiar surge of cold rage through my veins. “In a manner of speaking. My father didn’t part with his lands willingly.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You killed him.”

“At seventeen,” I confirmed. “He was reaching for his wine glass when I severed his head from his shoulders. The rest of the table sat in stunned silence for three full seconds before the screaming started.”

Her horse shifted beneath her as she studied me. “There’s more to that story.”

“There always is.” I nudged my horse forward, ending that particular line of conversation.

We crested a hill that overlooked the blackened ruin of what had once been a village. Charred beams jutted from the rubble, and only a sad, half-collapsed well stood in the center. I reined in my horse, feeling Arabella stiffen beside me.

“A week ago, it held forty-seven people,” I said quietly. “Farmers, mostly.”

She dismounted and walked through the remains of the village. When she returned, her expression was colder and more resolute than I had ever seen it. “And Solandris did nothing?”

“From what I hear, their patrols retreated months ago.”

She swallowed hard, then climbed back onto her mare.

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