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“Notactually.”

“As far as anyone else is concerned.”

I cross my arms, studying him. He’s been acting suspiciously, as if he has no intention of breaking the engagement like he promised.

We’ll have to talk about it soon, but not right now. The day has already been long enough.

* * *

“It’s largerthan Camellia’s suite,” Lavender whispers to Hyacinth, loud enough for everyone in attendance to hear her.

And she’s not wrong.

The antechamber opens into a large entertaining area. A set of glass doors lead into a spacious study that’s already full of books and a roomful of feminine furniture upholstered in an ivory fabric with golden leaves stitched into it. The balcony beyond is covered in frost now, but the eastern-facing patio would be a pleasant area to take tea or read in the cool shade of the summer months.

The bedchamber is twice the size of my current one, and the bed’s drapes are made from the same ivory fabric. Gossamer sheers cover the window that looks across the garden for daytime privacy.

I pause in front of a painted scene that takes up most of the north wall. It’s a landscape, depicting King Telgin and his queen Hortensia walking in the gardens. It’s incredibly detailed, constructed of several panels that are fastened to the wall…and a bit gaudy for my taste.

Turning, I take in the rest of the space. There’s even a smaller room off this one for one of my maids. And just like Camellia, I have a spacious closet that could home an entire family but instead holds a selection of gowns.

“What do you think?” Lawrence asks, beaming at me—obviously proud of himself.

“It’s lovely,” I say. “But don’t you think it’s a bit much?”

“For my queen? Absolutely not.”

We’re surrounded by people, so I don’t dare correct him, but I shoot him a stern look that he blatantly ignores.

“I had the entire room completely reupholstered to fit your tastes,” he continues. “The space was a bit dark before.”

A shadow crosses his face before he quickly dismisses it.

I turn to him, glancing at my nearby ladies and deciding they’re too enamored with the room to pay me much attention. Stepping close so I won’t be overheard, I ask, “This was your mother’s room, wasn’t it?”

Lawrence wrinkles his nose before he nods. “I suppose it was.”

“You suppose?”

When he looks back, he wears an easy smile. “I don’t remember her, Clover. I was little more than a baby when she died.”

“You shouldn’t place me here,” I whisper. “Save this room for your real queen. I’ll just have to return to my old one once this is over, and that seems like far too much fuss.”

He cocks his head, smirking. “You don’thaveto.”

“Lawrence—”

“Your Majesty,” the king’s steward says, coming into the room. “Lord Winston wishes to speak to you.”

Lawrence sighs as he looks back at me. “I’ve been summoned.”

Frowning, I jerk my head to the door, telling him he’s free to leave.

Before he goes, he grins. “Take a closer look at the drapes.”

“Why?”

He leaves without answering.