“Giddon,” she said, almost frightened. “That’s a dangerous attitude, when I’m a queen. I need to be able to depend on you to tell me if you think I’m doing wrong.”

“I always will. I promise. We’re a team, Bitterblue. But you’re not making a careless, unconsidered decision here, and I see what you’re trying to spare her.”

There was another silence.

“Why don’t you talk to Lovisa about it?” he said.

She rested her face against his chest. “Yes,” she said. “All right. Maybe I will.” His heart was thumping against her ear. “Your heart is beating fast.”

“I wonder why,” he said, in a teasing tone that made her bring her face to his, take his mouth with hers. It scared her sometimes, the easy way he could bring her tired, aching body back to happiness. She’d decided she wasn’t going to spend every moment being afraid of losing him. Bitterblue was going to learn to look into his face and see not just the fragile bones under his skin, but him, Giddon, her husband, her support.

“Giddon?” she said, pulling back. “There are some really difficult decisions ahead, with my zilfium stores, and this new weapon.”

“Yes,” he said, kissing her, sliding his hand under her pajama top.

“I don’t think it’s going to be easy to be my spouse,” she said. “Do you know how hard I’m going to lean on you?”

“I’m big and strong,” he said. “Remember?”

Bitterblue did not get the sense that he was appreciating the gravity of her point. She sat up, a little annoyed. “Seriously, Giddon. There’s so much to worry about. What if our children are horrid? They’ll have to rule Monsea one day, you know, which means they’ll have to be responsible, intelligent. Kind, yet forceful. Tireless. Wise. What if they’re not?

“Giddon?” New waves of emotion were racing across his face. Hope, wonder. Joy. She realized that this was the first time either of them had broached the topic of children. “Giddon? You look like you’re having an aneurysm.”

“Our children will be perfect,” he said, a tear running down his cheek. “I’m going to read them bedtime stories.”

“Giddon,” she said crisply. “We will love our children, no matter what they’re like. They will be whoever they are. But it won’t serve anyone, including our children, for us to be disattached from whatever the reality is. The world is changing! There’s a great deal to think about!”

“Of course there is.”

“Are you sure you’re up for it!”

“Bitterblue,” said Giddon, taking her chin in his hand. Looking into her eyes. “There’s nothing I want more in the world than to be your person while you’re being the Queen of Monsea. Everyone expects you to be their support. Well, I want to be yours.”