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Valda frowned. “Who?”

Maris shrugged. “I have no idea who that is.”

Valda patted the bed around her, searching for something to cover her naked body. Maris noticed and quickly grabbed Valda’s hand, guiding her touch a soft silk shirt.

“Put this on. I will get the door.”

Valda nodded and tried her best to put on the blouse without Maris’s help.

The knock came again, and with it, Valda’s lack of patience. “I will tear the fucking door off its hinges.”

“You will not do such a thing.”

Valda heard Maris’s approaching footsteps but didn’t feel her touch. Instead, she listened as the younger woman opened the door.

“Cai,” Maris said the name as if registering it in her head. Valda decided that whoever Cai was, wasn’t going to harm them.

“Your Highness,” Maris called out, turning her attention to Valda.“This is the boy who received us when we arrived at New Agenor.”

“What does he want?” Annoyance dripped from her tone. “And why did our guards allow him inside the house?”

Cai laughed nervously. “Your guards were not at the front door.”

Valda scoffed in disbelief.

“Also, Eyphah asked me to let you know that breakfast is ready, and she wishes for both of you to join her.”

Valda’s shoulders tensed at the mention of Eyphah’s name. The very thought of being in that woman’s presence made her stomach knot. That woman and her audacity to ask Maris to go back to her cabin… How dare she?

Valda knew she shouldn’t let her agitation get the best of her. She shouldn’t let her anger burn at the back of her throat.She had no attachment to Maris, at least not in public. She wasn’t her consort nor partner. Valda wasn’t even courting Maris.

Her heart clenched. As they were now, they were way past the courting. They had moved to be lovers and open about their attraction when they were behind closed quarters, to wanting each other and having each other every chance they could. Yet, Valda was petrified of asking Maris to be her heart mate again. She wasn’t sure how she would react if she said no again.

As if Maris had heard her thoughts, the Sealian’s hands moved over Valda’s soft cheek, tenderness in her fingertips. Being mad when Maris was around was hard… Valda melted into the sweet caress, closing her eyes, and lowering her tense shoulders.

“Don’t,” Maris whispered. “I can see you are over thinking.”

“Am I?” Valda tilted her head further, her lips coming to find Maris’s palm. She kissed it and pressed it to her face. That welcoming warmth was all she needed. Maris was here. She was touching her, everything was right in the universe.

“Yes. You might not know it, Your Highness, but you do wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Valda’s earlier agitation melted into a chuckle. Reluctantly, Valda pulled away from Maris’s hand and spoke. “We better get going. I don’t want that woman to burst into our room.”

Maris agreed silently, lowering her hand to the edge of Valda’s shirt. She tucked it inside her pants, fixed the buckle, and patted her down. Then she rolled up the sleeves up to the elbows, exposing the queen’s strong forearms. Finally, her fingers ran over dark hair, combing it before being ushered out of the cabin.

Although breakfast was delicious, Maris’s focus drifted from the empty plates to Eyphah, and then to Valda. The queen’s features were unreadable, while Eyphah’s amusement could not be contained by her subtle smirk.

Maris was irked by the gesture but opted to pay no mind to it and imitated Valda’s lack of emotions. The least she wanted to do was give Eyphah a speck of hope of ever getting into her bed. Maris scoffed at how absurd the idea was. After giving herself to the queen the first time, Maris couldn’t even imagine being intimate with anyone but her.

“Is the awkward silence entertaining to you, love?” Eyphah asked, lifting her mug, and having a sip of coffee.

Valda’s grip on her folded white cane tightened noticeably. She wasn’t surprised by Valda’s response. She might take it as some kind of disrespect, but commenting on that would confirm she was indeed somehow attached to Maris.

“Eyphah, please. Call me Maris—”

“Representative also works,” Valda interjected, her knuckles white.

Eyphah set her gaze on Maris, arched an eyebrow, and shrugged. “Let me use ‘Maris’ then. It sounds much less formal than ‘representative’.”