Page 146 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

She shoots me a glare. I fight a smile.

“We’ve been married for only two days,” she continues, huffing irritably. “And already we must face questions such as these.”

A thought slips into my mind. I am forced to turn my face away from her, so she doesn’t see how much I fail to contain my amusement. At first, I consider letting the thought pass by without comment. Then I decide I cannot leave a perfect opportunity to tease Kat into a blush.

She scowls out the window at the world passing by. Several wisps of hair from her bun have come loose and dangle about her cheekbones. I train my features into solemnity and my voice into a casual tone. “I have just realized that our children might have wings.”

Kat’s jaw drops open as her face turns the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen. My grin slips past my guard, and she cries, “You said thatjustto embarrass me!”

My laughter fills the carriage. She rips one of her shoes off and smashes it against my shoulder. I catch her wrist, preventing her from whacking me again. She struggles to yank free, which somehow amuses me even more. I consider kissing her again. Maybe she wouldn’t be shocked this time. Maybe I could pull her to myself—

“Did you marry me with the intent to spawn a brood of half-fae winged monsters?” she demands, yanking hard on her wrist. I release her, and she goes tumbling against the back of the carriage. More of her hair escapes her bun, framing her face with short, wild strands.

“No,” I confess, trying to rein in my grin and failing. “But the idea grows more appealing by the moment.”

“You take far too much pleasure in tormenting me.” Kat crosses her arms over her chest, her discarded shoe beside her on the bench. “Mercy, I plead!”

I laugh. Then, after weighing the possibilities in my head, I venture a bold request. “If I offer you mercy and a reprieve from the discussion of winged monster children, then will you offer me a kiss?”

I was wrong—thisis the reddest I’ve ever seen her. Her dark eyes shoot to mine. There’s fear in her irises, but not of me. Of something I still cannot place. Beyond the fear, however, is something else that flickers and dances in her pupils.

She blinks and shuts her mouth firmly. “That doesn’t seem like a smart bargain.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Kisses are known to lead to winged monster children. I cannot risk it.”

I laugh and settle into my side of the carriage, pleased enough with her reply to not be too disappointed at her rejection. Her eyes betrayed her—she wants to kiss me. That knowledge is enough for this moment. “In that case, you must permit one more comment on the subject.”

Her brows slant low together. “Don’t tell me they would have claws and fangs too.”

I shake my head, smiling a little before letting it flatten. “You should know that I will not ask children of you. As I said to the queen, they will not be acknowledged in my land or by my people. They would not be my heirs. Thus, I leave the decision entirely to your desires and wishes.”

The corner of her mouth tilts in curiosity. Her fingers tap along the embroidered cushion she sits on. “You have no desire for children? No desire aside from having an heir to your Nothril throne after you die?”

I shift slightly on my seat. “Do you remember the conversation we once had about why—until you—I had not married?”

She nods.

“Having a child would be to give others more power over me. I do not wish that upon myself—or the child. Great Kings, I have been soft toward my youngest sister, and that is enough for Lord and Lady Nothril to bind me to their will.” I hesitate, wondering if I should be this honest with her. It is the sight of those tiny scars on her face that remind me just how much I can trust her. “I desire for her to be gone from Nothril, so she will not be caught in the crossfires of my parents’ intrigues and power plays.”

Something quickens in the air around her. “Gone from Nothril? How would you accomplish that?”

I give a dry snort. “Icannot accomplish such a thing. Not if I value my life.”

“Lord and Lady Nothril—your parents—would kill you? If you took your sister out of Faerieland?”

“Me, and her both. And likely many others just for the spite of it.” Pictures carry across my mind’s eye, splattered in the blood I was called to shed. “Someone else would have to do it.”

“Who could break a princess out of Nothril?”

Don’t tell her,the Nothril part of me growls. But when I look at her face, at her upturned nose and those freckles, I don’t feel very Nothril anymore.

“One called the Ivy Mask,” I whisper.

A powerful jolt goes through her body. Her eyes immediately flee from mine.

I cock my head to one side. “You know of him. He freed your mother, didn’t he?”

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