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“Might I have a moment of your time before you attend to my sister?”
    Ah, it was going to be one of those talks. “I take it this is where you make the traditional threats to my manhood if I hurt your sister in any way,” Matthias said, careful to keep his tone mild. “I already apologized to her for not taking off my wedding ring. It was an honest lapse on my part.” He held up his left hand, which now bore Danaë’s wedding band alone. “As you can see, I corrected it. You have my word as king that I hold her in the highest respect, and will do my best never to hurt her.”
    The young prince studied him for a long moment. “See that you do. As Queen of Hellas, she’s worthy of your respect. As your wife, she deserves much more.”
    Matthias frowned, wondering what his new brother-in-law meant by that, but Darius didn’t elaborate. The Hellene nodded and headed down the stairs, leaving Matthias to ponder the events of the night ahead.
    ****
    Danaë heard a soft tap at the bedroom door. She glanced down at her nightgown one last time to make sure it hadn’t sprouted wrinkles or a stain, then cleared her throat. “Come in.”
    The door opened and Matthias stood there, managing to look regal and awkward at the same time. His valet had stripped him of his wedding clothes, and he now wore a heavy floor-length robe in midnight blue. It had been tied at the waist, leaving a wide V of skin peeping out from the neckline. It was the first time Danaë had seen anything of Matthias other than his head and hands. Catching a glimpse of the crisp amber hair on his chest was surprisingly erotic.
    “I apologize if I kept you waiting,” he said as he shut the door behind him. “The Illian ambassador caught me as I was about to leave the hall, and I’m afraid he ran a bit long with his congratulations.”
    She relaxed. He wasn’t trying to avoid her. “I understand. Would you like some wine?”
    “Yes, please.”
    Grateful for something to do, she went to the sideboard with its pitcher and goblets, hoping her face wasn’t as red as it felt. Stop behaving like a ninny, for the gods’ sake. And don’t spill wine on your gown.  
    She managed to pour two goblets with some measure of grace. Handing one to Matthias, she sipped from the other, wondering what she should say now.
    He seemed to sense her bewilderment. “So, here we are,” he said softly.
    “Here we are,” Danaë echoed, then blurted, “I’m not a virgin, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
    His brows went up at that. For a second she had a horrible image of him storming from her chambers in fury, declaring the marriage null and void.
    Instead, he chuckled. “Ah. Thank you for informing me, but I already knew. Your father kept me informed of your liaisons.”
    “He what ?”
    Matthias held up a hand. “He wanted to reassure me that they weren’t serious. I agreed with him that it was good for you to gain some breadth of experience before marriage. The gods know Lukas spent more than enough time sowing his wild oats.” The amusement in his face drained away at the mention of his son.
    Danaë felt adrift and searched for something to say. “It was a lovely ceremony, I thought. Very … regal.”
    “Yes, yes it was.” He started tapping his goblet with one finger, then realized what he was doing and put it down on the sideboard. “Danaë, I know this marriage is not something that either of us expected. But it will do much to help both our countries, as I’m sure your advisors pointed out.” His eyes flicked up in weary annoyance. “As did mine.”
    The brief flash of irritation somehow made him more human. “I know, mil—Matthias,” Danaë said. “And I promise that I’ll be a good and loyal wife to you.”
    “And I will be a good and loyal husband to you as well.” He took her free hand and brought it to his mouth, his lips soft and warm on her knuckles. “I won’t bother you again, but…” He trailed off, giving the bed an