My waiting woman, Sara, came into my room while I was dressing for bed.

"His majesty wants you brought to his room tonight." She said, going to my drawer and rummaging around.

I felt my brow crease. Brought to his room? Why hadn't he asked me himself?

Sara turned around, holding a delicate scrap of white lace.

My eyes popped open. "What is that?"

"This is what you'll be wearing." She said, matter of factly.

Wearing? She wanted me to wear that? "No, I'm not."

"Don't be silly, this is what wives wear for their husband's." She reached up to help me with my long, cotton nightgown but I took a step back, clutching it to me.

"Now, don't be bashful, dear." She said, "You've done what no woman has been able to do with him."

I straightened. "What do you mean?"

She moved closer, lowering her voice to ward off evesdroppers, though there was no one else in the room. "Since your wedding, he hasn't asked for anyone else to be sent to his room. Nor has he frequented anyone else's bed."

My mouth went dry. He wasn't bedding me, so I assumed he would go elsewhere. But he hadn't? "How do you know this?"

She shrugged. "Servants talk. And, it's not like he was exactly secretive about his exploits before."

I let her pull my nightgown off. "Did he have a lot of women, then?"

She arranged the lace garment so that I could step in it. "He's a King, dear. A king who up until a few weeks ago, did not have a wife. So, yes, he's had his share of lovers."

I put my arms through the straps as Sara went behind me to secure the hook enclosures. When she was done, she draped my dressing robe over my shoulders.

She walked with me down the hall to Kylo's room, and knocked on the door.

"Enter." He called from inside. Sara turned the knob, and held the door open as I stepped inside.

Kylo was standing next to his decanter and turned to look at me, his eyes going to my open robe, which Sara pulled off and promptly left with, leaving me practically nude in front of him.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as I fought the urge to cover myself.

He took a step forward, eyeing me hungrily, and pulled off his tie. His eyes didn't leave me as he unbuttoned his shirt, took it off, and offered it to me.

"Thank you." I said, taking it. His now bare torso looked exactly as I'd imagined it, rippled with ropes of muscle, not bulging or bulky, but corded and defined, and it made his already intimidating figure look even more spectacular.

His chest was hairless, as were his broad shoulders, and the only hair on his stomach made a dark line that started under his navel and disappeared under the waistband of his black slacks. I found myself wanting to reach out and trace that line with my fingers, to see where it went, but he turned and walked back to his decanter, yanking off the top before he poured himself a drink. I pulled the shirt on, and began buttoning it. It was enormous on me, and I had to roll the sleeves up to free my hands. It smelled like him.

"Did she put you in that?" He asked before throwing a drink back.

"I certainly didn't put myself in it." I said, dryly.

His only reply was to pour himself another drink.

I rolled my eyes. "Did you ask me to be sent here to watch you drink your stupidly expensive whiskey?"

"It's scotch." He said, as if that made a difference. "And, I asked you to be sent here to keep up appearances. You haven't been in my bed chamber in two weeks and the servants were starting to notice."

"I doubt that they would tell-"

He turned to face me. "They wouldn't? When they already report the details of your cycle, changes in your mood or eating habits, or whether or not you gain weight to the officials so they know if you become pregnant?"

I blinked. "They do?"

He nodded and drained his glass. "You'll need to start coming to my room a few nights a week, especially during the middle of your cycle."

"Why?"

He gave me an incredulous look. "You don't know how that works?" I shook my head and he sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his face. "They really told you nothing." He sighed again. "The middle of your cycle is when you have the highest chance of getting pregnant."

"How would I know when the middle of my cycle is?"

"It's typically ten to fourteen days after your last period."

I looked down, my face heating.

"What did they tell you?" He poured another drink.

"About what?" I asked, watching him turn his glass up.

He looked at me. "About sex, about me, about our marriage, anything."

"You already know what they told me about you." I walked up to stand next to him. "Violent dark lord. Mind control. Temper tantrums. The usual."

"Why can't they be more creative?" He mused, his full lips tugging up on one side.

"Though I will say that you are steadily losing all your street cred with me."

He hummed. "Whatever shall I do?" He picked up the bottle to pour a drink.

"Could I have one?"

He stopped, his eyes flicking up to me. "One what?"

"Drink, obviously." I rolled my eyes.

He didn't move, his brow furrowing as he considered.

"You have half a bottle left," I reasoned. "And, I'm sure you can get more."

"No, I'm not worried about getting more." He said. "I'm trying to decide whether or not seeing your face when you take a shot will be worth having to hold your hair back as you puke your guts up later tonight."

I glared at him, snatched the bottle from his hands, and poured myself a drink.

"You're going to get vomit all over my favorite shirt." He grumbled, watching me.

I pointedly looked at his bare chest. "Speaking of a shirt."

He laughed, but didn't move, watching me with dark eyes that glinted with wicked amusement. He made no move to stop me as I turned the glass up.

The liquid burned. Burned as if I'd swallowed lava, blazing a trail down my chest and into my stomach, and I grimaced, earning another laugh from Kylo. I gasped, the liquid fire taking my breath away.

"Yeap." He said, chuckling. "Worth it."

I pursed my lips, setting the glass down, and poured another.

At least that stopped his laughing dead.

"You don't want to do that." He warned, as I brought it up to my lips.

"If you can, I can." I challenged, and threw the shot back. I didn't know it was possible, but the second one was worse than the first, and I swallowed a gag.

"I've been drinking for years." He said, all humor in his voice gone. "I had to work my way up to scotch. I didn't dive head first into the one hundred and eighty proof."

I poured another. "I don't know what that means."

"It means-" He threw his hands up in exasperation as I drank it down, having to take two swallows instead of one. I felt my stomach roll, the burn spreading.

He took the glass from me. "Sit down."

I turned and sat on his bed, watching him as he went to his armoire and pulled on a shirt.

I picked at the stitching on his comforter. "If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?"

He looked over his shoulder at me. "Always."

"What did Ap'lek smell?" I asked. "When you nodded."

"Caught that, huh?" He sat down across from me.

I reached up and pinned my hair behind my ears. "It was kind of hard not to."

"Ap'lek," he sighed. "Can smell your power. Same as he smelled mine when we were kids."

I felt my forehead crease. "I have power?"

He nodded. "Quite a lot."

"Like you?"

His eyes narrowed. "I think you have a little more than me, actually."

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. I had power? Maybe even more power than Kylo Ren? I stopped, my smile fading. "I don't feel like I have power."

He laid back onto his mattress, stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles. "It usually comes out when you're threatened. And it's my job to make sure that you never are."

I thought back, unable to remember a time where I'd been threatened, or even in danger. "Then how do we get it to come out?"

"We could train. Vicrul has also offered to teach you how to fight." He said it so casually, as if we were discussing the weather.

"Fight like how?" I asked.

"With bubbles and unicorns, obviously." He rolled his eyes closed.

I considered. "The scary part is that I fully believe Vicrul could decimate an enemy with bubbles and unicorns."

Kylo didn't open his eyes. "He absolutely could."

My stomach rolled but I ignored it. "Could I ask you another question?"

He hummed his permission.

I had to concentrate harder to get my brain to form the words. "What happened the night I met your Knights when you just shut down? Why haven't I seen you all week? Where were you?"

He inhaled through his nose. "That's three questions."

I waited, but he didn't answer.

"You can ask me three questions." I bargained.

His eyes cracked open. "Any three questions?"

I nodded.

He groaned, throwing an arm over his face. "I hadn't realized how innocent you are, and my Knights asking you those questions made me realize how sheltered you've been, and now you're married to me and you have so much you haven't done and it's not fair. You haven't seen me all week because I've been avoiding you. Because you haven't had any experiences, and now you'll never get a chance to, and I feel responsible."

My brow furrowed. "That's absurd, you didn't ask for this." The room started to blur and I leaned against the bedpost.

"That doesn't change the fact that you were locked up and saved so that you could be sold. Or that you were sold. To me."

I felt saliva pool in my mouth and swallowed. "Would you rather I be sold to someone else?"

"I'd rather you not be sold at all." He said. "I'd rather you be in my bed by choice. I'd rather you be married to me because you want to be married to me. I'd rather-" He moved his arm and looked up at me. "Rey?"

But, I was up, hands clamped over my mouth as I sprinted for the bathing room, falling to my knees in front of the toilet, and was violently ill.

Warm fingers brushed the sides of my face, pulling my hair back and holding it. When my stomach had emptied itself, I reached up to flush, watching the water swirl away. I was mildly aware of his hands on my waist, steadying me as I stood. I turned on the faucet and bent down to cup water in my hands, to wash my mouth out.

When I looked into the mirror, I saw my colorless face, my pale lips, but behind me, Kylo was watching me, concern etched into his eyes. I leaned back against him, my head too heavy to hold up, and closed my eyes, hearing my blood roar in my ears.

He called my name, and I opened my eyes, searching for him in the fog. His warm hand cupped my cheek, pulling my face so that I could find him. "Are you going to puke again?"

I shook my head, pushing away from him, then teetered, my stomach churning, and doubled over, heaving into the toilet again. Kylo held my hair back as I retched. That was it, there was nothing left, I was sure of it as I spit once, and flushed.

I turned my head to look at him, his gentle fingers still knotted in my hair. "I should have listened to you about the scotch." I rasped, my voice raw.

He smiled unevenly. "Well, on the bright side, you get to tell Vicrul that you've drank so much you threw up."

I pivoted, barely turning in time. Kylo used his other hand to stroke soothing lines down my spine as again and again, I vomited. When the latest wave ebbed, my muscles sore from strain, I took a breath.

He let go of my hair, stood and I heard the water running as he turned on the faucet. When he knelt back down, he pressed a cool, damp cloth to my brow. I watched his eyes, focusing on them while everything else wobbled.

"I got vomit on your favorite shirt." I said, my voice as apologetic as I could muster.

His face didn't change. "I lied, it's not my favorite."

I huffed out a laugh, leaning back.

When I awoke, squinting at the sun streaming through the windows, I was tucked tightly into my bed, still in that scrap of white lace. I sat up, my head throbbing, and looked around. He wasn't there, but he'd left a full glass of water and two white pills on my bedside table, along with a folded piece of cardstock. I picked it up, and read the words written inside: "You still owe me three questions. -K"