Page 63 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
Which is also an uneasy thought, because I have seen he’s capable of murder. But that was kinda hot, since he killed Tassarionforme.
“Do you not worry that you might be dragged into a dangerous situation because of his banishment?” The tailor cocks his head at me, brows drawn. He’s worried about me, which is… nice, if surprising.
“I’m a bit of a fugitive myself,” I tell him and grin at the way he takes half a step back. “So I’ll take my chances with the hot elven royal.”
When the tailor says nothing, staring at me as if he were both aroused and frightened—which is quite a common occurrence in my sex life—I step past him and look into the tall, decorated mirror, which still presents me with no reflection and instead remains blurred like frosted glass. “I was told this room is vampire-themed. Does this mean you have vampires in the Nightmare Realm?”
The tailor clears his throat and opens his mouth, but then the mirror slides to the side as if someone moved it with their mind. I imagine the mirror might be the lid of a hidden coffin, and this time it’s me who steps back with my palms raised, ready to meet a fucking vampire.
Dressed in an elegant velvet jacket, Sylvan stands at the mouth of a corridor that was hidden behind the mirror all along. I sigh in relief, taking in his lovely form in the new clothes. He’s often serious, but his current expression still gives me pause.
“Everything… all right?” I ask, because why would he come here through some hidden passage without a valid reason?
Sylvan swallows and steps into the room. He spares the tailor only a glance. “Leave us,” he says, as if we were already back at court. He’s more used to servants than he ever was to flipping burgers, and I can’t help but find it arousing. I love him whenhe gets all sweet and submissive, but there’s also a confidence in him that I greatly admire.
The tailor hesitates, then bows awkwardly before leaving.
I grab Sylvan’s hands the moment we’re alone. “Tell me everything,” I say, desperate to wipe the worry from his face and replace it with one of his beautiful smiles.
Sylvan looks up. “How marvelous you look in black. And this coat…” He strokes my forearm, and I relax a little, because if he has time to compliment me, then the world isn’t falling apart.
“You don’t need blue velvet to look magnificent. Honestly, if it didn’t mean all those people would see your body, I would gladly marry you naked,” I tell him, wordlessly inviting him into my arms.
He’s so quick to hug me he stumbles and faceplants right between my pecs, but that’s where he loves to be, so no harm done.
I’m guessing we have time for that too, since he’s not telling me we need to run from bounty hunters, or something.
“Maybe I was born so small to fit well into your embrace,” he whispers, tense under my touch.
I melt and lower myself to one knee. For once he is slightly taller than me as I kiss his hands. Any and all doubts I had about this new reality disperse, because even if this is all happening in my mind, I do not want to wake up from a dream where I’m so very wanted.
“I like that. Then maybe I was born so strong and tall so you could always lean on me?”
He makes the tiniest whimper and squeezes my hands. I swear his eyes are glossing over. And when he opens his mouth to speak, he doesn’t seem able to choke out even one word.
Thatmakes me frown. “Sylvan? Did something happen? Do I need to rearrange someone’s face?”
“No, I just… I cannot wait a minute longer. And in fact, I do not wish to wait until after the reception, as is the usual way. I can’t bear that you are not yet mine. So much can happen in a few hours, and if you were to be taken from me because I am unable to protect you, I would never forgive myself.”
I stall, still on my knee before him as he trembles with emotion, fighting tears, as if I were a piece of jewelry anyone could just snatch off the counter. Thinking about it makes me smile, but then I remember the strange pull I felt when the grimsmith tied our shadows, and it sinks in that Sylvan’s fears are in fact very real.
“You want to… skip the party?”
“No, I wish for us to make our vows now. I want you to become my Dark Companion, and for our hearts to be forever tied. I don’t care for tradition, for what others may think of me, or that this moon is fake.” He points to the large lamp above us, which imitates a moon glowing red. “The one outside is very real, full, and it will bless our bond whenever we choose to make it.”
My heart flutters in a way it hasn’t since the day I chose to kill for a man I thought I loved. That decision proved disastrous. I lost my freedom and found out he’s been manipulating me all along. But Sylvan? He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve, and I love that about him.
With elation radiating inside me, I pluck the titanium ring out of my pocket and show it to my fiancé. It’s a trinket, really, studded with crystals. I don’t think they’re precious gems, but what do I know? One is clear and sparkly, one is red and one is blue. I stole it from Tassarion’s workshop, and while that bastard earned everything he got, I have to admit that he had talent for this metalsmithing thing.
“Do you know what this tradition means in my world?” I ask, pushing it on Sylvan’s ring finger. I frown when it proves way tooloose on his dainty hand, but such things can be corrected in the future.
His pale face flushes. “My apologies, I am not sure.”
I... did not expectthatresponse, but I can work with it. Worse hurdles have been thrown my way in the past, so I smile, rub my face against his palm, and kiss it. “Marry me, Sylvan Goldweed. Now.”
Sylvan brightens with a smile so wide and so joyful, my heart leaps. He’s a beautiful elven prince, and he wantsme. “And this ring means that?” He looks at the trinket on his finger, amazed as if I gave him a star from the sky.
“If you accept it, it means you agree,” I say and rise to my feet, already knowing his answer. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want me. He wouldn’t risk everything for me, nor kill for me, yet here we are. Still, I add, “please.”
