The morning after a coronation was supposed to be a time of quiet reflection and divine gratitude.
For Kaia, the newly crowned Queen of Arindale, it involved waking up to the sight of her husband dismantling a perfectly good piece of antique furniture.
Kaia blinked the sleep from her eyes, pulling the heavy charcoal velvet sheets up to her collarbones. The massive super-suite was bathed in cool, pale morning light. Aeron was standing by the mahogany writing desk on his side of the room, wearing only dark breeches, his broad, bare back to her.
He had a dagger in his hand, and he was methodically prying a secret compartment out of the desk's false bottom.
"I know I said I wanted transparency in our marriage," Kaia murmured, her voice husky from sleep, "but are you actively disassembling the palace?"
