She bobbed a curtsy and replied, “Of course, Your Grace.”

“We don’t curtsy in this castle any longer, Bronagh,” True, apparently having asked after her name (so very True), reminded her.

“Right.” She bobbed again and muttered on another blush, “Gads.”

True shot her an understanding grin before he turned to me.

“I’m sorry, love,” he murmured, taking my elbow. “Alfie isn’t up for more company.”

“Of course,” I murmured in return.

We started moving away.

When we were some distance from Alfie’s room, True shared, “He wants me to sack Bronagh.”

“Of course he does. He’s determined to let this beat him, and I don’t blame him. I could not imagine. What I could imagine is that I’d likely be the same. However, she’s the only one of all of us who has the skills to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“He barely knows her, Farah, and what he knows he shares he does not like.”

“Hmm,” I hummed.

“I’m sure you can understand that was humiliating for him, sweetling,” he muttered.

“I’m sure the quick glance I saw was impressive, il mia vita,” I returned. “And Bronagh undoubtedly felt the same way.”

A short, sharp bark of laughter erupted from my husband.

“He is a man without the use of his legs, but he’s still very clearly very much a man, and Bronagh did not miss this,” I went on.

True let my elbow go only to slide an arm around my waist.

Though he did his speaking.

“You’re being entirely inappropriate, my queen.”

“Bronagh agreed, though I talked her out of that.”

True stopped us both from walking and looked down at me.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s see how this plays out, shall we?” I suggested.

“Farah—”

I curled into him, lifting my hand that was free of the sling to touch the tips of my fingers to his lips.

“He must be shown every reason to carry on with life. Even if it’s bickering with a pretty nurse.”

True wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled it down to hold my hand to the base of his throat.

“I worry this is a faulty play,” he said gently.

“I fear in this instance, caro, we all, but mostly Alfie, have nothing left to lose.”

Although he did not like the reasons behind it, my husband saw the wisdom of this, I knew it when he bent to kiss my forehead.

I would wish for the feel of his lips to mine.

But for now, I would take that.

He then turned me to his side, our arms still around each other.

And as such, we walked to his study.

“You must understand, our hands were tied,” the Go’Doan priest said sharply.

“I understand no such thing,” Ophelia returned.

“I am sorry what befell your lieutenant,” the priest replied, fashioning his features into a semblance of the emotion he was purporting, something which was not lost on anyone at that table, specifically my husband, who I could feel anger emanating from.