“I’m beginning to believe you are genuinely suicidal,” I say.

“You know me better than that,” Montes admonishes.

“Do I? The evil king who laid down his arms to heal his people—if that is the man you are, then I don’t in fact know you.”

But I want to.

The realization comes as a shock, and not a welcome one. The king’s seduced me once into forgetting that he was the enemy. If I’m not careful, he’ll do it once more. And, unfortunately, I’m even more vulnerable this time around because my feelings for Montes haven’t vanished.

A wicked man with a decent heart. That is the worst sort of combo. I have no defense against it.

Seawater begins to climb up my dress as the dry sand gives way to wet.

“Then it’s my job to see to it that you do come to know me. Intimately, my queen.”

Intimacy. It always is his endgame with me. I won’t be able to avoid it.

I walk up to him, the saltwater rising up and up until it’s nearly at my waist. My dark king watches me. He’s enjoying this—my anger, his control.

“And what do I get out of that situation?” I ask.

If Montes is going to make my ignorance of current events a situation he can take advantage of, then I will use his desire to my benefit.

A wave crashes against us, the surf wrapping my dress around me.

“What does my vicious little wife want?”

“I’m not going to tell you,” I say. “Not yet. Give me whatever it is I wish, and I’ll give you intimacy.”

A tradeoff—one not so different from the one we made when I was just an emissary.

He stares at me for a long time as the waves roll in around him, crashing against his back. I can’t read him or the machinations of his twisted mind, but he’s entertaining the thought, and that, at least, is something. To even consider what I proposed—

“Agreed.”

I can’t hide my surprise. The king must want me more desperately than I can imagine.

“We begin now,” he says.

My small victory is only just beginning to sink in when his words register.

He closes the last of the distance between us and wraps an arm around my waist. I put my hands on the shoulders reflexively, about to push him away.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he says. “You agreed to intimacy. Fight me on this, and you can forget about your pretty little request.”

“I didn’t mean now,” I say.

“You never specified that. As far as I’m concerned, intimacy will be on my terms. Or, you can forget about your secretive wish and I will seduce you the old-fashioned way.” Which might just be worse because I know myself well enough to understand with perfect clarity that he will pull me under all over again.

He knows he has me when I glare at thin.

“Now,” he says, “put your legs around me.”

This is absurd.

With a very obvious reluctance, I do so, giving him a not-so-subtle glare the entire time. His other hand cups me from below. He moves us into deeper water.

His eyes drop to my mouth. “Now your lips,” he says.

This man is insufferable. Of course he would take complete advantage of his end of the deal.

I will let him have his moment. I’ll get mine later.

I lean into him, brushing my lips against his. I can taste the salty ocean on his skin.

I assume that he’ll find the kiss wanting—I’m not trying very hard to make it enjoyable—but he’s patient, his lips barely moving beneath mine. And then, at some point, he takes over. His grip on me tightens, and the kiss becomes impassioned. Montes’s fingers dig into my skin.

I don’t know what to do with this fever. A part of me wants to fall just as deeply into it as Montes is, but another part of me wants to fight back, even though I just made a promise otherwise.

The king doesn’t give me much of a choice. The arm cradling my back slides up, delving into my hair. I feel his tongue part my lips and then I’m not just tasting water and sea salt; I’m tasting this man’s desperation and his toxic, undying love. How terrible that I’m the focus of it.

Finally, he ends the kiss. Both of us are breathing heavy when he pulls away to look at me. His thumb strokes one of my cheekbones. “I intend to do more,” he says.

“I know you do.” It is just like my husband to take full advantage of the situation.

His eyes drop back to my lips, which already feel swollen. And I see in his gaze the same thing I’ve been seeing in everyone else’s—hope.

But he doesn’t say it. He makes no mention of the fact that I can feel his need vibrating through him. He and I both know it’s a weakness, and the king hasn’t gotten to where he is today by being weak.

“I see you took great pains to destroy this dress,” Montes says, moving one of his hands along the collar, his fingers brushing a string of the seed pearls and the tops of my breasts.

“Are you going to put me down?” I ask. He’s still holding me to him, and my legs are still idiotically wrapped around his waist.

“You should never make deals without stipulations,” he says. “For I intend to be intimate with you until you freely give into it.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I say, more to convince myself than to convince him.

“It already has once before,” he says, gripping me tightly as the ocean swirls around us. “It will again, my lady of lies.”