Never had I seen a look of such relief as she breathed him in. A contentment, a peace so rare yet so tangible I could almost touch it, dripped from her softening limbs, her body rocking slowly from side to side.

Feeling my attention on them, Carelda opened her eyes, her thick lashes soaked.

I cleared my throat and dismissed Dudley with a nod, who seemed grateful to escape all of this chaos and retreat to his kitchens.

The guest chambers were a little dusty but otherwise clean, and I got to work on removing the coverings from the bed and the chairs in the sitting area.

“Has he always been this way?”

The unexpected and tentative question jarred me—sent me back to memories of dream-like times. Unable to help it as I remembered the way Rorn had first looked at me from across the ballroom, then every room from that day forward, I informed her, “No.” I sighed. “Not always.”

Absorbing that for a minute, I suspected she was now wondering what had happened to change our king so much. For I also suspected Rorn had been anything but cruel to her during their first encounters.

The babe released a cough, then a wail, his tiny head bopping over his mother’s chest.

“Why?” Carelda said, calming him at her bosom.

My heart warmed at the sight of his downy raven hair, the way his precious little hand splayed and bunched over Carelda’s chest. I found I couldn’t answer her, asking instead, “What did you name him?”

Confusion momentarily puckered her brows. “Oh, well…” She brushed her fingers over his head. “I haven’t been able to decide on one.” At my silence, she then added, “I know that’s terrible. He’s been with us for days now.”

“A name is important. Take your time.”

Theenon arrived with the babe’s basket and bowed before setting it by the window.

“Why help me?” she asked again.

I gathered two blankets from the cupboard and unfolded one to place within the basket though it already contained some. “Would you rather the alternative?” Crossing the room, I laid the other blanket upon the small table before the armchair Carelda sat in.

“Of course, not, but—”

“Then please do not ask questions I cannot and do not wish to answer.” I straightened and peered around, then looked at Carelda. Her cheeks were still stained red from her turmoil, her eyes murky and marred from exhaustion. “You won’t be forced to leave. Theenon will have your belongings retrieved and assist you with anything else you might need.”

Standing by the door, the steward nodded when I gave him a weak smile. His eyes shined in a way that made my chest tighten painfully. “Indeed, my queen. Anything they desire.”

I was heading back upstairs when Carelda stopped me, calling softly, “Thank you.” I made to keep walking when she said, “My queen.”