"Annie, get your gun. We're going out."
She blinked. "What?"
I grinned. "Not literally, darling, it's a musical reference. I'm pun-tastic, try to keep up."
Her arms folded in that way that usually means I'm about to be throttled. "I know that. I've heard every Anastasia, Anna, Annie, and Stacy joke in existence. Let me guess, next you'll tell me my mom has got it going on." She sighed. "Where are we going?"
I grinned, teeth sharp as sin. "To the Carnival. My Carnival. In my realm."
She squinted. "Your Carnival?"
"Yes, my darling Annie Lovebird. The most magnificent carnival to ever exist. Delights. Horrors. Chaos. The full buffet."
"Do I need to change?" she asked warily.
I gave her a once-over. Then tried to lift her shirt. "Nope." I popped the P hard just because she hates it.
She smacked my hand. "You're insufferable."
"And yet, you adore me." Wink. Snap.
Reality bent, twisted, laughed and then we were there.
The archway towered above us, plastered in flickering lights and banners that couldn't decide on a design. The air itself buzzed. Popcorn. Grease. Cotton candy. Chaos. A fever dream made tangible. I spread my arms wide, a king unveiling his throne. "Welcome, Annie, to the Carnival of Chaos."
Her eyes widened as she took in the snaking coasters, the impossible Ferris wheels, the pulsing lights overhead. "Gods, this place is—"
"Insane?" I supplied, grinning.
"Yes."
"I know."
Crashing down the street in front of us, the parade. Music and shrieking laughter. Monkeys in sequined vests tumbled past, clanging cymbals. One cartwheeled right up to her face. She flinched. I chuckled. "Relax, love. They can smell fear."
It shrieked and bolted. She exhaled. Clowns rolled in next, crammed into cars smaller than sense allowed. One tossed me a balloon. I twirled it, presented it to her with a flourish. "For you, my Annie Popcorn."
Her glare could have killed a lesser god. "I will stab you with this balloon."
"Kinky."
Pop. Balloon gone. My gasp of betrayal was cut off by the floats, clockwork dragons, rainbow-smoke houses, nightmare flowers blooming in time to music. All perfection. All mine.
"Is this planned?" she demanded.
"Planned?" I scoffed. "Darling, this is magic. It does what it wants. Just like me."
She sighed, but she was watching. Really watching. Which meant I won.
When she finally said, "Okay, fine. It's impressive," I nearly preened out of my own skin.
"Told you I know how to show a girl a good time."
The parade ended with fireworks and a song. It was glorious. We stopped at the caramel apple stand. I grabbed the shiniest monstrosity I could find. Then a tiny mortal demon disguised as a child appeared, seized the biggest apple on the rack, and devoured it like it had murdered her family.
"Annie," I whispered, horrified, "she's eating it like it killed her parents."
She wheezed with laughter. The child locked eyes with me, caramel dripping from her chin like gore. My soul left my body. "Gods above! Chew!"
She didn't. She doubled down. "We are never having kids," I muttered, stricken.
Annie patted my arm, smug. "There, there."
Her eyes caught on the carousel. Ah, yes. My beautiful carousel. Horses alive, manes streaming with magic, eyes gleaming with mischief.
"I want to ride it," she said, like the words surprised her own tongue.
I stared. Quiet. Soft. Then bowed like a gentleman bastard. "All right, darling Annie. Let's ride." Of course, I picked the blackest, most dramatic steed. She chose one with a stardust mane. Predictable, but beautiful.
The music swelled. The carousel spun. And Annie, my Annie, smiled. Then she laughed. Gods. I stared, every joke dying in my throat. She was laughing, bright, free, unguarded. I laughed, too. Couldn't help it. Not polished. Not practiced. Just real. For a moment, it wasn't gods and runes and scars. It was just us. Spinning. Laughing. Alive.
When the ride slowed, and she turned to me glowing with joy. I had nothing to say. Nothing clever. Nothing chaotic. I just stared. Because gods help me, She was beautiful. Annie beamed, laughter spilling out of her like light as the carousel slowed to a stop.
"That was fun!" she said, glowing.
Then, to my absolute delight and utter horror, she turned to me, eyes sparkling like I'd just gifted her the moon. "Can we go again?"
Oh, hells. Something twisted sharp in my chest. Not irritation. Not amusement. Something soft. And I don't do soft. I am chaos incarnate. I don't feel warm things. I burn, unravel, destroy. And yet… there she was, smiling at me like she'd forgotten the rest of the world existed. I was doomed. I cleared my throat, slipping back into swagger like armor. "A second ride? Annie Lollipop, I'd love to watch you giggle like a child for hours—"
She opened her mouth. "—But no. Not yet."
She huffed, all pout and stubbornness. "Why not?"
"Because, my delectable Annie Treat, this Carnival is vast. Magnificent. You'll become addicted before you even try the rest." I smirked. "And I intend to watch that happen."
Her unimpressed stare could have cut marble. "Fine. But I am riding it again."
I sighed, deeply, theatrically. "Obviously. Arbor, make a note: Annie is now a certified carousel addict."
A lantern overhead flickered in smug agreement. I offered her my hand. She hesitated… then took it. And gods, why did that tiny gesture feel like lightning under my skin? We stepped off together, her joy still glowing like something rare and fragile. I wanted to keep it. Bottle it. Hide it away.
She darted straight toward a game stall. A whack-a-mole setup but with my personal twist. The "moles" popped up with little faces, too human, too expressive, shouting insults at anyone who dared swing.
"You'll never hit me, slowpoke!"
"Nice try! Except it wasn't!"
"Pathetic!"
A blue-skinned man smacked one. It popped back up, shook a fist, and flipped him off. I arched a brow. "Well. That's… unsettling."
Annie snorted. "Oh, I have to try this."
I reached for coins. "You? My delicate Annie Candy Apple? Might be too violent for your refined sensibilities."
She smirked, smug as sin. "Actually… you play."
I froze. "Me?"
"Yes." She crossed her arms. "I want to watch." She winked. Bloody winked, the implication of something highly inappropriate was there!
Oh, that tone, the wink. This was a trap. A setup. I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"
"No reason," she lied flawlessly.
The vendor cackled as I paid. "This'll be good."
I was handed a comically oversized mallet. "Alright, Annie Popcorn. Watch closely. Prepare to be dazzled."
The game began.
A mole popped up. "Oh look, it's the great Malvor! Too slow, chaos boy—"
THUNK. Gone.
Another. "Lucky shot! You'll never—"
THUNK. Gone.
The taunts kept coming. "Seen grandmas hit harder." "Your aim's as bad as your outfit."
And then: "Broody dark romance hero vibes!"
I froze mid-swing.
"…Excuse me?"
THUNK. THUNK. THUNK.
"I am a style icon, you miserable rodents!"
Annie was doubled over, gasping with laughter.
"You set me up!" I accused.
"Oh, absolutely."
Snap. Three moles exploded into glitter. Annie gasped. "That's cheating!"
"Chaos means never following the rules," I declared.
The vendor wheezed. "First time anyone's ever won."
Annie leaned in, still smirking. "Does he get a prize?"
The vendor grinned. "He already has one."
She blinked. I smirked. "Didn't know you were part of the prize pool."
Her eye roll was legendary. "Let's go before you get even more smug."
I slung the mallet over my shoulder like a war trophy, winked at the muttering moles still trash-talking my outfit, and followed. "Come, Annie Starlight. The night is young."
Gods, she was laughing. Really laughing. No mask. No detachment. Just joy. It was lethal. Addictive. I wanted more. We walked until her gaze snagged on the towering Ferris wheel. Carriages glinting like stars, rising weightless into the night sky. Her hand tightened in mine. "What's next, Malvor?"
Something dangerous flickered in my chest. I'd faced armies, gods, monsters. Nothing had ever made me want to impress someone this badly. So I let her pull me toward the wheel, smirking even as my stomach flipped. "If you wanted me alone, darling, all you had to do was ask."
She ignored me, of course. Infuriating woman. She practically bounced into the carriage, radiant. I followed, close enough to feel her warmth, settling beside her. Too close. Never close enough. The wheel groaned, rising. She leaned forward, entranced by the chaos below. I leaned back, watching her.
"See that?" I pointed to the horizon where a mountain hung upside down, its peak aimed at the ground. "That's the Inverted Peak."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I like to keep people guessing."
She laughed softly. Gods, that sound.
"And the snow around it?" I continued. "Permanent. Even though it's always warm."
"That makes no sense."
"Exactly. But it makes the best snow cones in the realms."
Her head snapped toward me. "Snow cones?"
I lifted my chin. "Magic. Frozen. Life-changing. You'll never touch mortal desserts again." Her lips twitched, barely hiding a smile. The wheel carried us higher. Below, the Meadow of Ever Blooming Flowers rippled in slow waves, blossoms bursting in colors too vivid for mortals.
"I planted those with Ravina," I said.
She blinked. "Why plant them?"
I shrugged, gaze slipping sideways to her. "Some people like things that last." She turned back to the flowers. Quiet. Thoughtful. And I didn't say another word. Because the truth was, I wasn't looking at the meadow at all. I was looking at her.