Page 60 of Thrones We Steal

I’m brushing my teeth when my maid, Daphne, knocks on the bathroom door. “There is someone who wishes to see you, ma’am,” she says.

I spit out my toothpaste. “Who is it?”

“It’s your husband.”

I nearly choke. Henry might legally be my husband, but that doesn’t mean he should be referred to as such.

“Tell him I’ve gone to bed, please.”

A few minutes later she’s back. “He says it’s important that he speak with you.”

I smirk at my reflection in the mirror. If Henry thinks I’m going to be duped into believing a word he says after everything he’s done so far, he’s about to be sorely disappointed. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Daphne.”

Tonight is the perfect night to do an advanced skin care routine, I decide. Cleanser, face mask—ten minutes, rinse, toner, every jar of anti-aging cream in my bathroom, facial serums—three, moisturizer, massage, gua sha, and finally a jade roller. By the time I’m done, my skin has never felt better.

After spending some quality time with my cuticles and nails, and giving myself a full-body moisturize, I finally approach the connecting door between mine and Henry’s suites—tolerated only because it can be locked. Without opening it, I say, “Henry?”

“Congratulations, I’m an old man.”

I bite my lip as it curls into a grin. Victory tastes sweet. “What do you want?”

“Open the door and I’ll tell you.”

No way is he regaining the upper hand. I won it fair and square. “I’m tired. I was just going to bed.”

“Fine, I’ll just go without you.”

“Go where?” I ask before I can stop myself.

There’s no answer.

“Henry?”

He’s hoping my curiosity will get the best of me, but there is nowhere to go this late, and certainly no place I’ll go with him. It’s nothing but a trap.

I know this, I swear I do, but I still knock on the door. “Henry, answer me.”

Only silence greets me. I take a few steps back to my bedroom, but the niggling fear of missing out does an annoying rat-a-tat-tat on my shoulder. I let out a frustrated huff and turn back. I unlock the door and swing it open to reveal Henry propped against the door frame, a devilish grin swiped across his face.

“You infuriating prick.” I grab the folds of my dressing robe and pull them a little tighter.

He slips his fingers into my tied sash and tugs me toward him. “Let’s go.” He walks toward the doors leading into the hallway.

“Excuse me? I’m not going anywhere like this.”

He throws a glance over his shoulder. “You look fine. Come on.”

“Not until you tell me where we’re going. And probably not even then.”

“It’s our wedding night—humor me. Unless you’d rather go in there?” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his suite.

“Sure, let me just stab a fork in my throat first. If you think I’m following you anywhere without more information, you are grossly mistaken.”

He sighs like it’s an obnoxious request. “Always with your need to know everything. Trust me, you will want to see this.”

“Trust you? Because you’re such a trustworthy person?”

“Despite what you may think, I actually do know you pretty well. You won’t regret this, I promise.”

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