Their arms had been pressed together long enough that it was no longer clear where his skin ended and hers began. Ulrich tried to keep his shoulder as far from Mirabella's as he could, but the hint of her vanilla and jasmine-blossom scent attempted to lure him near.
The harems triple-tied their final knot and skipped back to admire their work. Around them, other guests were pausing to watch—naturally. Ulrich couldn't scratch his chin without attracting comment, and Mirabella would never pass anywhere unnoticed; given their history, after all, they hated each other's guts and everyone in the room could see it, but why did it feel like this wasn't the Mirabella he used to know? Yet, the sight of them tied together would have had the satirists composing lines.
But Ulrich was the prince, and being one of the most powerful demons in the land had to be good for something.
"You've had your entertainment," the prince said to the harems. "Release us."
