In love with a girl I’d have bowed to long before she became my queen.

“You’re quite the poet, Prince.” Moonlight pools in the dimple that accompanies his grin. “And you the muse, darling.”

Why couldn’t we have just stayed in that field of poppies? I would spend the rest of my days making her flower crowns if she wanted to be a queen. My queen. Not Kitt’s. Not Ilya’s. Mine.

rather, what his father liked to call “a disgraceful lack of competency.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” “It’s not promises I care to keep—it’s you.”

His sword clatters to the ground. Strong arms wrap suddenly around my waist before another drop of rain can fall from the sky. I’m being pulled closer, pressed flush against his solid body. With a tilt of my chin, he murmurs against my lips. “My pretty Pae. Tell me you missed me.”

“Oh, my pretty Pae.” His words are a murmur against my lips. “For once, it is I who will be your undoing.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” she hisses into the silence. Then, without another word, I’m being tugged into her room. I kick the door shut behind me. “Where else would I be?” “Your own room, maybe?” “My room doesn’t have you in it.” My

I don’t even need to turn around. The mere presence of her is familiar, branded into the hollow of my neck where her head rests, tethered to my ankle and forever tugging me toward her.