He laughed—laughed!—and I had to steady myself to keep my jaw off the floor. I couldn’t stop staring at him. His relaxed, almost lazy posture. His full, upturned lips and the tenderness that crinkled his eyes at the mention of the gryvern. His loose wool trousers and his untucked, slightly rumpled shirt, hanging open partway down his chest to reveal more of the scar that slashed his body in two. It was casual, unpretentious, and entirely incompatible with the hardened royal heir I’d come to know. It felt like I was seeing Luther—not His Royal Highness Prince Luther Corbois of Lumnos, but just
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