Then she leaned closer, eyes sparkling. “Isn’t a Shadowborn royal expected to dance with his wife?” I briefly forgot what I was doing and where we were and all the many unpleasant realities upon our shoulders. I forgot everything except for her. “Dance with me,” she said again, her voice comically low, and I stifled a chuckle. “Was that supposed to be compulsion, Iliae?” “What, it didn’t work?” Maybe it had. I wondered whether Mische had figured out yet that I would never—could never—say no to her.
