A Dance with the Fae Prince (Married to Magic, #2)

by Elise Kova

for everyone who stays up late reading books about kissing

“The final rule, and the most important one, is that you are only permitted to leave this wing of the manor during daylight hours, regardless of what you hear or see.”

Heed the rules, and you will want for nothing as long as you, or I, walk this mortal plane. You will never have to cross my path again.”

He scoffs softly. “Trust… Such a hard thing to give to your kind.”

“What do you do to occupy the hours of your day?” He chuckles again and I hear him take a sip. “Me? I’m trying to become king.”

“Maybe,” he whispers, “I’m trying to protect you because I’m stunning. Because if you were to look at me with those eyes that Oren tells me are like a tempest sea, I could never let you go.”

I have business to attend to of a dangerous sort. In the event I never return to these halls, I leave everything to you: the house, all its contents, and the tidy sum hidden underneath the floorboards of the closet adjacent to my chambers. It should be enough that you can live out the rest of your days in comfort. I bequeath it all to you, wife. And should I never return, you are a free woman and should enjoy your life as such.

“I think I killed a man.” I return to staring at my hand, waiting for the realization that I just killed a man to sink in. “He was a shit stain on this earth. Good riddance.”

“Sire, true king, permission to speak freely?” Shaye has perched herself on the top of a rock we’re passing by. She’s been close enough to overhear the whole conversation. “Granted,” he growls. “You’re being an ass.” Shaye smirks. “That is all.”

“Go and play, for me. Fill my world with your song.”

“Do you love her?” I lean into the door slightly, pressing my ear against the cool wood, and hold my breath. No, I want to scream, say no. If he doesn’t love me, things remain uncomplicated. It means I haven’t made a mistake. If he doesn’t love me then⁠— “I do,”

“If you smirk like that at me again, I won’t be able to stop myself from kissing that smug expression off your lips.” His breath is hot on my neck, the words deep and gravelly. “Consider this your warning.”

“Because I love you, truly. I love you in a way that makes me want to sacrifice for you. That makes me want to move the mountains, or oceans, or stars, to merely see you smile.” He strokes my cheek again, looking down at me with all the wonder in the world. “That is what love is, Katria—what it should be. You are worthy of that love, from me, from others, and from yourself.”

“For even trying to touch her, I condemn you to death,”