Scythe was gone when I woke late in the morning, and I tried to spend the day reading and sorting through my thoughts. I failed. Anxiety twisted my insides and shortened every inhale. So I cleaned. The cupboards, the windows, the countertops. None of it was in dire need of attention, but I couldn’t face it all yet.

I couldn’t make myself leave, and I couldn’t relax, knowing I shouldn’t stay.

I was halfway through dusting the bookshelves when the wolf returned. Cloth in hand, I spun to face the door at the sound of a female’s voice, but it didn’t open.

“…not arguing. I’m just failing to understand why the secrecy is necessary.”

“It just is.”

“Do you wish to keep people thinking the wrong thing? Because that’s cruel, Scythe, even for you.”

“No, that’s not…” He growled, then cursed. “Look, I just need you to make some fucking gowns. That’s it. Nothing else. I’m not asking you to smuggle her into the Keep.”

“And what will Dade say when he discovers your secret? Because he will eventually.”

My fingers curled, nails digging into the cloth and my palm.

“It’s none of his business. It’s no one’s business but mine,” Scythe said, the words clipped, then he paused. “She’s waiting.”

The door opened a second later, and I smiled as if I hadn’t heard a word they’d said, all the while knowing it gave me away entirely. “Uh, hello.”

A lithe female with long brown curls stepped into the cottage, a small bag in tow. Tilting her head, she returned my smile with a beautiful broad one of her own. “Hello, indeed.” Looking back at Scythe, who scowled in a way that suggested she shut her mouth, she snorted and walked over to the dining table.

The wolf cleared his throat. “This is Olivianna, the king’s personal seamstress. I’ve asked her to make a dress or two for you.”

“He’s requested five, actually.”

Scythe glowered, his jaw rigid as he scraped a hand through his hair, forgetting it was tied and setting thick strands loose.

The king’s seamstress?

Oh no. Oh stars no.

My head shook, panic and something akin to sadness seizing my chest in a breath-robbing vise. “I don’t need any,” I stammered out. “That’s very kind of you both, but truly, I’m fine.” He couldn’t do this for me. It wouldn’t be fair, and it was incredibly unnecessary.

Scythe’s eye narrowed, assessing me. “She’s already here, and someone is minding her babe, so it’s best not to waste her time.”