Aren shook his head. “You don’t need to prove anything to me, Lara. I know better than anyone how strong you are.”
Buckling her belt, she looked up at him. “I swore to fight by your side, to defend you to my dying breath, to cherish your body and none other, and to be loyal to you as long as I live.” Picking up her knives, she slid them into their sheaths with twin thunks. “And that means where you go, I go, too.”
His eyes were full of heat. Of desire for her. Of respect for her. “As you say, Your Grace.” Offering his arm, Aren bent low, his breath warm against her ear. “There’s no one in the world like you, you know.”
“No, there isn’t.” Lara squared her shoulders as the doors to the balcony were flung wide open, revealing a crowd of their people waiting below. “Because there is only one Queen of Ithicana. Just as there is only one King. And if any of our enemies dare come for our kingdom, we will bring them to their knees.”