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But it was too late. While I had been distracted, the cub had pulled himself up onto the bed, digging his claws into the coverlet, and proceeded to pounce upon my coronation dress. Now he was worrying at the lace on the bodice with his teeth.

Rushing over, I grabbed the little cub and gently tried to extricate him from the gown. But it was too late. Part of the lace trim had already pulled away.

“They’re going to murder me,” I said in horror, holding the cub under one arm and trying to smooth down the dress with the other.

“Who?”

“My ladies-in-waiting!” Lady Eve headed up the troupe of women. “The dress took a month to sew.” As Lady Eve reminded me every time we had a fitting session. “Oh, the pins. The pins, Kaye!”

“The pins?”

“They’ll stick more pins in me,” I moaned, sinking onto the bed and leaning back.

A rumbling sensation against my chest drew my eyes downwards.

I was still holding the cub. It had nestled against me, paws down, and was now looking at me with interest.

“You called him Nightclaw,” Kaye said softly. “Just now.”

Almost against my will, I stroked the cub’s sleek head. “I never got to see Nightclaw this small. Was this what he looked like?”

The kitten’s purring was soothing. Comforting. It made me forget about the gown. The coronation. The hours I would have to spend standing in front of a large audience while the master-of-ceremonies and visiting nobles gave speech after speech lauding my future reign.

“You see?” Kaye sat down on the bed beside me and smiled. “He’s sweet, isn’t he?”

“If I had ever dared to call Nightclaw sweet, he would probably have ripped my head off,” I murmured, still stroking the cub. “But yes.” I sighed. “He is rather sweet. Now take him away.”

Kaye’s eyes widened. “But...”

I pushed the kitten off my chest gently and sat up. “Take him away, Kaye.”

“Morgan...”

The door to my room pushed open, and Draven stood there.

“You brought the cub?”

Kaye nodded at my mate. “She wants me to take him away.”

“What did you expect me to do? Bring him to the coronation?” I said a little testily.

“Why not?” Draven grinned. “You’re the queen. You can do anything.”

“I can’t have a cat running around during a coronation ceremony.” I frowned. “Can I?”

“He could be the official exmoor-of-ceremonies,” Kaye said eagerly. “A symbol of peace and friendship amongst kingdoms.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I highly doubt little—” I stopped myself. I had almost called the kitten Nightclaw again. “I highly doubt the cub would enjoy that.”

“He’s very sociable, actually. More than his sisters or Sunstrike. He’d probably love to attend the coronation. Wouldn’t you, little fellow?” Kaye said encouragingly, pushing the kitten over and tickling its stomach.

“Fine,” I said suddenly, watching them. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Kaye stopped and looked at me. “Really?”

“Really. Call him the royal mascot.” The thought of a tiny Nightclaw running wild around the temple, racing underneath noble ladies skirts and between the legs of visiting dignitaries was too good to pass up. “But he’d better not get stepped on.” There was another tapping at the door. Probably Lady Eve. Oh, I was in for it. “He can’t fly yet, remember.”

“I’ll watch him,” Kaye promised. He grinned at Draven and me. “I think you’re making the right decision. This will really spice things up.”