“Yes, sire.” Glosove bowed deeply. “I will see to it personally, sire.”

“Then you are dismissed.” Azulin turned away to speak with Ghost.

The tailor bowed to me. “It has been a pleasure, my lady, to work with someone so strong-willed in her opinions.”

“Are you insulting my companion?” Azulin demanded, swinging back around to face us.

“No, sire, not in the least.” The tailor’s features tightened. “I was merely complimenting her decisiveness.”

Azulin’s dark eyes narrowed, and the air tingled with gathering magic.

“Pardon me, sire.” Glosove bowed again to Azulin. “We must begin work on those formal gowns.” He motioned to his assistants and made a hasty retreat.

“He was insulting you.” Azulin’s hand tightened into a fist.

“It was the truth,” I pointed out.

“A truth I happen to like about you. It annoys me that others don’t appreciate you.”

I stared at my husband in stunned surprise.

“What?” he asked when he found me watching him.

“I think you are the first person who has ever appreciated that I am stubborn and opinionated.”

“No one appreciated that about you?” Azulin frowned. “Not even your former sweetheart?”

I laughed. “He hated my stubbornness.”

Azulin caught my hand. Threading his fingers through mine, he drew them up to his mouth. “More fool him,” he declaredbefore pressing a brief kiss to my fingertips. His eyes darkened once more as he studied me over our joined hands. Warmth flooded my face.

Ghost cleared his throat. “We should leave, sire.”

Closing his eyes as though pained, Azaulin took a slow, deep breath. “Agreed.” He released my fingers and turned away, opening a portal.

“Anything I should know about your family before I meet them?” I asked as the circle of sparks formed. The view in the center revealed a manicured garden and lawn below a towering castle. The nerves I had been battling all morning flooded through me.

Azulin drew me through the portal, glancing back to check that Ghost followed us. “Both my parents are still living. My father’s mind wanders constantly between the past, present, and a fictional future of his own creation. His curse doesn’t seem to negatively affect his body’s health, so he’ll probably live in this state or worse for another century or more. My mother, long-suffering saint that she is, never leaves his side.”

“And your brother?”

“Ah, Oran. Yes, he keeps an eye on Father and supports Mother.” Azulin’s tone shifted, and an undercurrent of something I couldn’t identify made me uncomfortable. There was history there. And unlike my history with my family, I suspected this complicated history went back centuries.

Ghost stepped through the portal, and Azulin closed it with a sizzling snap.

The dragon’s smoky scent intensified as his gaze moved from me to Azulin and back. He raised a brow in inquiry. I shrugged.

“She asked about Oran,” Azulin declared without turning away from the castle above us. “I hope you are prepared to walk.” He motioned toward the beginning of a staircase. “Thecastle proper is magic-suppressed to contain my father’s temper tantrums, which is why we arrived here. It also means we have to climb a great many stairs to reach the entrance.” He glanced at me. “If you grow weary at any point, you can shift, and I can carry you.”

I laughed. “Only a few weeks ago, I was trekking all day across fields gathering winter grain and hauling water. I think I’m capable of tackling a few flights of stairs.”

Instead of smiling, Azulin’s expression turned thoughtful. “You did all this alone?”

“No, I had help harvesting. However, the water was my responsibility.”

“Along with tending the children, cooking, and cleaning the house?”

“Yes.”