She’s supposed to stay in guest quarters for propriety’s sake until theceremony, but our people aren’t terribly traditional, and I want her close so that I know what she’s up to.
I hold out an arm for her to take. She threads her left hand through it, wincing when I bump her. I know she hurt that wrist.
“I’ll take you to the baths and I’ll heal your wounds.”
“That would be highly inappropriate,” she says, louder than she needs to.
“Are you suddenly modest, wife?” I say, my voice low.
“Are you suddenly unconcerned with appearances, husband? After spending all that time to perfect your hair?”
Bryce lets out a low whistle beside me.
“Surely you have a female healer who sees to women,” she says.
I grind my teeth. “Yes, but I am the best, and I am your fiancé, so I will do it.” I lean closer. “Plus, we should talk about house rules.”
Her face is awash with indecision as if she’s trying to predict if it’s better to fall in line or cause a scene. She glances at the warriors gathered by the entrance and nods once in acquiescence.
Harlow’s gaze passes over everyone. I know she’s assessing who has blessings from which Divine. She tosses one last glance over her shoulder at her bodyguard as I usher her inside.
I lead her down the hall toward the stairs to our private wing.
Harlow hesitates at the bottom of the stairs. “I thought you said we were going to the baths.”
“Changed my mind. We’re going to our private washroom upstairs.”
She stops suddenly, her gaze focused on our left, where a servant has propped the ballroom door open.
Harlow openly gawks at the ornate room, and I bite back a smile. I like seeing her disoriented. She expected us to live like a bunch of savages, not to be more technologically sophisticated than her fancy city. Being so remote has made us resourceful, and being much smaller than the city has made us agile in ways they simply can’t be.
“I’ll take you for a spin around the floor after our wedding, lovely,” I say.
She glares at me, releases my arm, and storms up the stairs ahead of me. She pauses at the top.
“Straight,” I say.
She walks down the hallways quickly, but I can see her counting thedoors in her periphery, mapping the house in her head. Her training is much better than I expected. Given her status, I’d made a lot of incorrect assumptions about her.
“To your right.”
She places her hand on the door to our right and pushes it open.
Aware of her bodyguard following behind us, I turn and nod at the door across the hall. “Make yourself at home.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “She’s to be treated with respect.”
“I’ll afford her the same respect she does me,” I say.
He scrubs a hand over his face. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
I grin and close the door behind us. I nearly run into her back when she stops just inside the door.
“This is your room,” she says.
“Our room.”
Her gaze goes to the bed immediately.
