‘Thank you,’ she said formally. ‘I think I’ll rest now. I don’t expect to see you before I leave.’

‘Chloe, please . . .’

Dion’s eyes followed her as she walked inside.

Despite the sumptuous quarters she’d been given and the softest bed she’d had in months to sleep on, Chloe was wide awake.

She tossed and turned, thinking about Dion and hating the way she’d left things. Of course she wanted him to be happy. He’d no doubt known Isobel for a long time, and loved her deeply. He was a king, and a king needed a queen. Isobel’s father was an important landowner. Though Chloe didn’t remember anything about Lord Philippos’s daughter, she knew Dion well enough to know that he wouldn’t have agreed to marry her unless they shared a deep connection.

She tried her best not to be jealous, but thinking of him with another woman was gnawing at her, making it impossible for her to sleep. Finally she came to a decision. She didn’t know when she would see him again. She wanted to know about his new love. She couldn’t leave things like this between them.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, heralding a storm. She rolled out of bed and, wearing a thin linen shift, padded on bare feet out into the hallway, continuing on to the king’s bedchamber. She saw light peeking under the heavy curtains and peeled the cloth aside. Listening for the sounds of heavy breathing, she entered, peering ahead. But disappointment sank into her chest when she saw that the bedchamber was empty.

She glanced around with sudden curiosity. His personal quarters revealed so much about him. A burning oil lamp, rumpled linen, and empty bed immediately told her that, like her, he hadn’t been able to sleep. The heavy bureau standing against the wall was covered with valuable ceramics and golden statues, but it was all shoved to the side to give space for the model sailing boat someone had probably carved for him as a gift. His discarded clothing was bunched in the corner, making her smile; this was a palace that needed a woman’s guiding hand.

But her smile slowly fell. The Isobel she imagined was as captivating as the goddess Edra, and would be sharing this bed with the man she loved.

She turned to depart, knowing she was violating his privacy, but then she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Dion was bare-chested, wearing just a loose pair of trousers. He was standing on his bedroom balcony, high above the ground, and staring out into the night.

Chloe held her breath, starting for the exit when she heard his voice.

‘Chloe?’