Page 70 of Consort's Glory
Her voice was an achingly soft whisper. “Then yes, Theodore. I want to marry you.”
He kissed her again, softly, with all the fierce pride and hope he felt. Even dumbstruck, she leaned into him as he began to pull away, her need for touch as potent as his own. “Then we’ll be married the human way,” he whispered against her lips. “We’re already bound for life and I’m not going to stop talking about it until everyone knows. Might as well get it out of the way now.”
“You want me.” She still sounded baffled, as if she was trying to untangle a brutal tongue twister in a foreign language rather than accept the very simple fact that Theodore was hers — body, mind, and soul. “Not my magic. Not as a joke. Not because you just want to have sex with me. You really, actually want me.”
“Correct.” Theodore pulled his hands away from her face to haul her up by her hips. Two long strides took them across the tiny clinic he was only now glancing at — were those lockers? — and to the tiny cot she must have climbed out of.
Depositing her on the creaky thing, he dropped down to his knees before her bare legs and gently pulled them apart. She didn’t try to stop him. She didn’t even tense up.
Margot simply watched him, her breathing ragged, as she asked the most heartbreaking question he could imagine. “This is real, isn’t it? You’re not… this isn’t some trap? A trick?” A whisper of a thought slid through their bond. Please don’t let it be a trick.
Theodore squeezed her thighs, his insides twisted up into great, thorny knots. His voice was ragged when he answered, “Yes, darling. This is real. Now let me show you.”
Margot’s eyes, so brilliant and unusual, took on a shine that nearly unwound him. “Okay,” she whispered. “Show me.”
