If I wasn’t careful, my emotions would carry me into the void—straight into that book-lined cottage with its tousled bedding and crooked dining table and tiny bathing room. I couldn’t dare entertain the thought of giving in.

A respite must remain all it truly was.

Standing, I waded back through the circular rows of white roses to the central tower. Most would be retired for the evening, and I found spending time outdoors before attempting sleep each night helped.

Flame bobbed in the two sconces by the doors, the rest of the entry hall quiet and giving way to shadows. I followed them into the deeper dark toward the king’s tower. Our tower. My place of refuge and turmoil.

My spine locked when I rounded the end of the hall to meet the stairs.

There, in a threadbare nightgown, her shoulder-length hair sleek in the dim light, stood Carelda.

Vivid copper eyes widened upon me, large and framed with sooty lashes. Her lips, thin yet perfectly shaped, parted. Those pretty eyes welled.

Against my will, I felt my own eyes do the same. The sting of tears worsened when they dropped to her stomach.

The thief placed a protective hand over the bump there, and my world tilted even more.

I cleared my throat and blinked, lifting my chin as I forced myself to say, “Hello.”

Carelda cursed softly, then muttered useless apologies as she curtsied.

I smiled. It was brief, and the foreign action hurt more than I’d guessed it would. My voice was rasped, but my words were thankfully clear. “We needn’t bother with formalities.”

She frowned slightly.

I shifted some tangled hair behind my ear. “You carry my husband’s…” I could not say it. The word slammed into my teeth, refusing to leave.

“Your Majesty, I’m…” she started, her doe-eyes flooding.

“Don’t,” I demanded. “We both know you’re not sorry, nor should you be.” I swallowed thickly. “You’ve been blessed.” Then I forced a smile that made a tear fall down her cheek. “But if you’ll excuse me…”

I said nothing else, could say no more if I’d truly tried, and hurried upstairs.

He didn’t knock this time.

Rorn entered without pause, but he halted in the center of the parlor at the sight of me on the chaise.

I didn’t look at him. I stared down at the remnants of my cold tea. “King.”

“Stars, Bloom. You…” He swallowed.

“Look ravishing, I know,” I said dryly, then sipped the tea. “No need for flattery.”

At his silence, I looked up to find him smirking.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” he asked.

I sighed. “Do you need something?”

“Yes,” he said instantly. “You.”

I scowled, taking in the worry at his mouth and eyes. Then I laughed.