Like Sophia, Dion had no parents to shelter him and support him. Like her, he’d lost his only sibling.

As always, thinking about Chloe made her sad. And then she felt guilt when her thoughts inevitably turned to Nikolas, the man who was clearly to blame for the darkness that had plagued Sophia’s life. Everyone had believed her when she’d told them he’d simply collapsed in front of her. She’d then traveled by ship back to Phalesia . . . where it seemed as if her father’s death was divine punishment for her crime.

She hadn’t even been present at his funeral and was forced to cry over her father’s tomb. They said Aristocles’ heart failed him, but his heart was always strong. Nilus started acting strange around her, avoiding her rather than consoling her. Amos vanished. Finally, with no home to return to, and no family to support her, she had made a vow to devote herself to the goddess Aeris.

Lost in thought and unnoticed, she bowed when she needed to as they arrived at Lord Philippos’s villa and the priestess asked to see Isobel. While the high priestess and the lord spoke, Sophia looked for Dion and saw him outside, touring the gardens with his gray-haired uncle. He was smiling broadly as he said something, waving his arms with enthusiasm.

Soon Sophia was following High Priestess Marina down a hallway, entering a sitting room at the back of the villa. As the high priestess greeted Isobel and seated herself, Sophia was careful to stand behind and to the side, holding the satchel, ready to serve if needed.

She’d seen Isobel before, of course – all the novices thought she was the most beautiful woman in Phalesia – but they’d never actually spoken. Now that she knew Isobel was going to be Dion’s wife, she found herself inspecting her with interest. She was undoubtedly attractive, slim as a willow, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

Isobel was tense, twisting her fingers in her lap as the high priestess matter-of-factly probed the soon-to-be queen about her health.

‘When was your last cycle?’ In these circumstances, the high priestess tended not to use titles.

‘Six . . . Six weeks ago,’ Isobel said haltingly. She dropped her eyes.

‘And when were you and the king together?’

‘Nearly . . . four weeks ago.’

‘When did you notice that you had missed your cycle?’

‘It should have come ten days ago.’

‘Have you experienced any morning sickness?’

Isobel nodded.

‘And how do you feel generally? Would you say you are in good health?’

‘I’m a little tired.’ She gave a slight smile. ‘But we were all up late last night, and I’ve been working hard to help my father with the election. Is . . . Is everything all right?’