Though Elise admitted to me last night that he let her in on the secret about my paternity. For such a dangerous secret, he’s been busy spreading the word.

First Sebastian, and now my lady.

The latter I trust implicitly. On the former, I hope Landon knows Sebastian as well as he thinks he does.

Because certain men in this tower have shaken my faith in their trustworthiness.

Liam, especially.

After the shock of Landon’s revelation wore off, another cold, hard truth hit me. Liam knew all along about the Brotherhood’s monthly tradition, and he didn’t tell me. I wouldn’t expect someone as heartless and stoic as Mr. Bordeaux to care enough to warn me of such a fate, but Liam…

I thought we didn’t have secrets between us.

As Elise continues her perusal of my workspace, I tidy up after another long day. My team left two hours ago, but I stayed behind to finalize the details on two of my summer daywear designs. I’m putting away my scattered charcoal pencils when I look up and freeze. A pencil slips from my grip, hitting the table with a louder ruckus than I thought possible for something so small.

Elise turns toward the door where the chancellor stands on the threshold…as if my thoughts from a few moments ago conjured his presence.

“Will you give us a few minutes?” he asks my lady.

She nods before sliding past him into the hall, and I pick up the dropped pencil with feigned nonchalance.

Because anger triggers my heart into an adrenaline-induced rhythm.

“I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” he says, shutting the door behind him. But he doesn’t lock it like Sebastian did last week…right before he licked me to insanity.

“What is there to talk about? Sebastian had me against that wall over there,” I say, pointing to the spot where his rival had me spread, “and he ate my pussy, giving me the most explosive orgasm I’ve ever had.” I meet the shock in Liam’s dark eyes. “I only showed up at his house the other night to return the favor.”

Liam says nothing at first, and I can tell he’s struggling to formulate a reply. To make sense of my blunt, harsh tone.

“You’re upset,” he finally says, stepping closer. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t tell me.”

He searches my face, and I pinpoint the exact moment guilt trickles into his expression. He averts his eyes. “You’re talking about the queen’s monthly duty.”

“Is that a question, Chancellor? Or is there something else you haven’t told me?”

Bracing his weight with both hands on the table between us, he lets out a sigh of resignation. “I knew this day would come. I just wanted to protect you from it for as long as I could.”

“But you can’t protect me from this, can you?”

“No.”