Rune shook a finger. “Now, now, Majesty. I don’t see you smiling yet. Haven’t you ever wondered what sort of life I lead back in Slödava?” She had, but she’d never admit it to him. Elma shrugged. He grinned. “In the city, I’m known for my taste in fashion.” Elma stared. His grin widened, and he struck a casual pose, hand draped over the pommel of his sword. “Are you imagining it? Whatever you’re envisioning, add at least a dozen more silver buttons, a handful of tassels, and — yes, velvet. Scads of it.”
I love him
