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“Sweaty beast?” Kian made a show of looking around, trying and failing to hide a smile. “I don’t see your mother here.” “She’s at home,” Daerick said flatly. “Recovering from the ten seconds you gave her last night.” Kian clapped a hand to his heart. “You wound me, Lord Calatris.” “Yes, well, I’d shoot you an ugly look to go with it, but you already have one.”
My spirit doesn’t belong to me anymore. It belongs to the girl with too much love inside her, the girl whose light scatters the darkness. My spirit wants the patron saint of ugly pups, toxic frogs, and foolish half kings.” His gaze moved over her face, burning her everywhere it landed. “I want you, Cerise. I’m sorry I gave you any reason to doubt that.”
“Tell me this, my lady of the temple,” he said. “Do you care for me?” “Yes.” “And do I sometimes frustrate you?” he asked. “Be honest.” “You frustrate me often,” she admitted. “Nearly every day.” In the background, Daerick sniggered. “All right, then,” Kian said dryly. “Every day. And in those frequent moments when I vex you to no end, do you stop caring for me?” “No,” she told him. “Then why would you expect me to be any different? I’m capable of feeling more than one emotion at a time. Even when I’m upset with you, I never doubt that my spirit is yours. And there’s nothing you could do to
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“My lady of the temple, I had hoped to escort you to your suite, but I think it would be more prudent of me to remain with my steward and discuss the ceremony preparations. Will you forgive me, my love?” She smiled at him as she lowered in a curtsy. She understood his gesture. Subtle as it was, he’d publicly acknowledged their relationship. “There is nothing to forgive, Your Highness. I look forward to seeing you at the sanctuary.”

