I spotted a sign begging me to dump the Dragon and marry the guy holding it and snorted a most un-queenly laugh. “Don’t get any ideas,” Darius growled as he stepped out from where he’d been waiting and offered me his arm. “You look like one of those Christmas nutcracker things,” I told him as my eyes ran from the black boots on his feet over the fitted blood red suit and ruffly shirt thing all the way up to the perfectly dishevelled black hair which was spilling down into his eyes as always. “You just need a top hat.”
