Her hair was caught up in a graceful bunch of curls at the back, the front adorned with thin braids across her crown.

This was not Firenz.

It was not Dellish.

It was Silence.

And it was stunning.

He had no mind to that. He would pay mind to it later.

Now, he had his mind on one thing.

He stopped five feet from her and asked, “What did you think you were doing?”

She opened her mouth but shut it when he lifted his hand, palm her way and shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I do not care. Don’t do it again.”

“But, Mars—” she began, and at her sweet, quiet voice, one of the myriad things he loved about her, one of the myriad things he would miss unrelentingly if she was taken from him, he lost the control he had been carefully holding when red again covered his vision as his blood scoured through his veins.

Thus, he leaned her way and thundered, “Do not ever do it again!”

She stood motionless before him, her eyes locked to his.

“I cannot even begin to entertain how fucking, bloody foolish that was,” he bit. “What if one of them could see through your shadow?”

“They could not,” she said quietly.

“And you know this?”

She lifted her chin. “I tested it.”

He fisted his hands at these words, not about to entertain thoughts on how she’d done that either.

“Do not do it again,” he growled.

His wife did not speak.

“Did you hear me, Silence?” he demanded.

“It would be hard not to, my king, for you shouted it at me,” she returned.

“I did indeed, for I had been kind earlier. It wasn’t foolish, Silence, it was stupid. And it was stupid because it was dangerous, and it was unnecessary. There is naught those men would say to each other in that chamber that I would need to know.”

“Not that you know of,” she retorted.

“Silence,” he gritted between his teeth.

“You told me yourself they are not all allies, and in times such as these, we need allies,” she shared. “But more, we need to understand who are not allies.”

“And it will be I, the fucking king, who will establish alliances, Silence. And it will be I, the fucking king, who will determine who is not.”

“Right,” she whispered.

“And if you were found out,” he kept at her, “spying on my barons, it would be detrimental to me making such alliances.”

“I have been using my shadow for many years, my king.”

“And you will not use it again for reasons I do not permit, my queen.”

At this, she blinked.

“Right,” she again whispered. “Are we finished?”

“Silence—”

“We are finished,” she decreed.

She then moved to him only to walk by him, but he was not in accord that they were finished, thus he reached out and caught her arm.

She tugged at it viciously at the same time she snapped, “Take your hand from me.”