She’d pulled her shadow over her.

And she was spying.

His blood coursing hot through his veins, he stalked down the hall. The sounds of his boots hitting the floor were stifled by the thick rugs, and his queen was so involved in her occupation, she did not sense him until the last minute.

When she did, she turned, looked up at him, began to smile, but halted in offering that to him when she caught a look at his face.

“Go to our chambers, now,” he whispered.

“Mars, I—”

“You will go, or I will find a man to escort you, and I will instruct him to lock you in.”

Her head jerked in surprise and her expression began to shift again but he did not have the patience to deal with whatever it would become.

“Do not try me, Silence. Go.” He drew in a deep breath and finished, “Now.”

She took in his face, hers settled to impassive, before she moved around him.

The shimmer remained about her as there were guards stationed down that hall and it might be strange to see their king appearing to be conversing with nothing, but it would be far stranger, watching their queen form out of thin air.

As such, Silence hurried down the hall.

He watched her, still controlling his breathing, before he moved into the room where the barons awaited him.

Mars took his throne. He shared news they needed to hear regarding what had happened in Wodell and what was happening in Firenze. He answered questions, including ones put to him about the state of Farah, for the baron of her clan was there.

The man seemed concerned but was mollified at hearing Mars report she was not only now the Queen of Wodell, but also the Dellish were most enamored of her, though not nearly as much as her new king.

He then cut the meeting short and left the men in the room as he walked out, his strides long but unhurried, his deep inward and outward breaths his main focus.

However, he took the steps of the staircase three at a time and wasted no more of it as he moved down the hall to his and his queen’s chambers.

He entered them, their large bath before him, and he looked right to their bedchamber.

He then looked left to their sitting room and saw her standing at the side of his desk on the far end.

He walked into the room, distractedly noting that she and her maid Tril had concocted yet another remarkable gown that was not the bejeweled brassiere and waistband above sheers that fell over her legs that was worn by the female Firenz.

Instead, it was a filmy creation in a shade of apricot that covered only one shoulder in an elegant gathering of material, leaving the other bare, and it had a deep slit up one side of the hem that would expose her leg as she walked.