Page 4 of Crown of Light and Ashes
Emir's eyebrows shoot up slightly, but he controls his expression quickly. "Your grandmother's wedding dress, my lord? The one reserved for true mates? It hasn't been used for a political marriage in generations."
"Yes, that's the one," I confirm, enjoying the ripple of surprise that passes through the court. That particular dress is reserved for shadow lords' true mates, not political arrangements. Let them gossip. Let them wonder.
"Yes, my lord," Emir replies, bowing slightly.
"You can't be serious," Nesilhan says, glaring at me. "I will not wear a Shadow Court wedding dress."
"Would you prefer to marry me naked?" I ask innocently. "I'd be amenable to that alternative, though perhaps not for your first introduction to my court."
Her cheeks flushed a delicious scarlet. "You're impossible."
"I prefer 'creatively flexible,’” I counter with a grin.
As my guards move to escort her away, I catch her arm, leaning close once more. The scent of her—like sunlight on fresh snow—fills my senses, making my shadows curl with anticipation. I want to devour her whole.
"One more thing, future wife," I murmur against her ear, letting my lips brush the sensitive skin there. "If you attempt to escape, if you try to renege on our agreement, I will not only execute your brother, but I will ensure his death is remembered in the histories of both our courts for its... creativity. And then I'll hunt you down myself, which, trust me, you'll find far less pleasant than our wedding night."
She jerks away from me, eyes blazing with hatred. "You are exactly as monstrous as they say."
I press a hand to my chest in mock gratitude. "Thank you. I think you have a crush on me, and to be honest, if I were you, I would have one, too." I wink at her. "Don't worry, we'll work through your obvious attraction to monsters during our long, intimate marriage."
"I would rather die," she spits.
"Dramatic," I observe cheerfully. "But entirely unnecessary.You'll find I can be a very generous husband. Provided, of course, that you're an obedient wife."
"I will never obey you," she promises, her voice vibrating with conviction.
My smile widens, showing too many teeth. "Oh, I was hoping you'd say that." I reach out, trailing one finger down her cheek, shadows dancing at my fingertips. "Breaking your resistance will be the most entertaining project I've had in centuries."
She tries to slap my hand away, but I catch her wrist, bringing her knuckles to my lips for a mocking kiss. "I do enjoy your spirit, Nesilhan. Keep it. It makes everything so much more interesting."
As she is led away, I return to my throne, a profound sense of satisfaction settling over me. This is an unexpected turn of events, but one that plays perfectly into my hands. Marriage to one of the Light Court's most prominent daughters will strengthen my position, give me leverage in negotiations, and—most intriguingly—provide me with a new form of entertainment.
Breaking Nesilhan's proud spirit will be a challenge worthy of my attention.
"My lord," Emir approaches once the hall has begun to clear, his voice pitched low for privacy. "Are you certain about this course of action? The Council might not approve of such an... impulsive decision."
"The Council serves at my pleasure," I remind him coolly. "Not the other way around."
"Of course," he concedes. "But a marriage alliance with the Light Court will have significant implications. Political, magical... personal."
I raise an eyebrow at his last word. "Personal? You think I've developed tender feelings for the girl? How amusing."
"I think," Emir says carefully, "that you've been watching her at peace negotiations for years. That your attention always finds herin a crowded room. That perhaps this 'impulsive' decision has been brewing longer than you admit—even to yourself."
I wave a dismissive hand. "She's a political asset, nothing more. An entertaining diversion in an otherwise tedious existence."
Emir, who has known me since childhood and is the only person permitted to speak to me with such frankness, merely gives me a knowing look. "As you say, my lord."
"Besides," I continue, stretching languidly in my throne, "can you think of anything that would infuriate the Light Court elders more than seeing their precious daughter bound to the monster of the Shadow Court?"
"No," Emir admits. "Though I wonder if making enemies of the entire Light Court is wise, even for you."
"They were already my enemies," I remind him. "Now they'll simply be my in-laws as well. Isn't that how family works? Thinly veiled hostility wrapped in obligation?"
Emir suppresses a smile. "I wouldn't know, my lord. My family is remarkably functional."
"Boring," I declare, rising from my throne. After nearly eight hundred years of life, with the last fifteen spent as Shadow Lord since overthrowing my predecessor in what the court historians delicately call “an unexpected transfer of power,” I've learned that dysfunctional is far more entertaining. "Now, I believe I have a wedding to arrange. Something suitably impressive yet tasteful. After all," I add with a sharp smile, "I'm nothing if not a considerate bridegroom."
