“Elecia said it will scar.” “And?” he murmured nonchalantly. Aldrik leaned forward, pressing his lips into the fabric over the mark where Victor had stolen her magic and nearly her life. “You’re not one to worry about feminine notions of your complexion.” “I’m not,” she agreed. “Are you?” Aldrik laughed lightly. It was a throaty whisper. “You could turn green with yellow spots and I’d find myself uncaring. If I’d wanted a dainty court queen, I would have picked from my father’s line-up.”
