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It was simply impossible to shake such a deep, terrible uneasiness.

With Speran’shead nestled beneath her chin and his warm weight against her chest, Tes rocked gently back and forth and let herself breathe him in. His sweet scent. The happy way he sighed in his sleep and curled his little fist around her hair. According to the nursemaid, he’d been difficult to settle while she’d been gone. Tes tried not to let the guilt overcome her because of it.

The kings and Ria slipped into the room. At Tes’s questioning look, Ria smiled. “The nursemaid is walking with Elna in the gardens,” the queen whispered.

Tes tried not to squirm in her seat as the three gazes trained expectantly upon her. The thought of confessing that she’d slept with Ber made her skin crawl and her stomach quake. What would they think of her if she confirmed what the kings must have suspected earlier?

“What happened?” Toren asked, his voice softer than she would have expected.

But then again, they’d all grown better at whispering around the babies.

“I snuck in, crept up behind him, and held my knife to his neck.” Though Speran probably couldn’t understand, she did her best not to mention his father by name. Irrational, but her heart didn’t care. “I was gathering my nerve when he told me to do it. Calmly. With resolve. So of course, I couldn’t.”

Ria sat in the rocking chair to Tes’s left. “I heard there was blood all over you, though.”

“He…” Tes pressed her dry lips together in a useless attempt to moisten them. “He grabbed my wrist and forced the knife closer. I freed myself, but then…”

They took each other like animals during mating season. Which she wouldnotsay.

Mehl met her gaze, and one corner of his mouth curved slightly upward. Perceptive lout. “I assume there was something of a tussle?”

“Something like, yes,” Tes muttered. She diverted her attention to Speran, patting his back when he stirred a little. Anything to avoid seeing the others’ expressions. “Then a guard pounded on the door, having heard the noise. Ber gave me a journal and the ring before trying to force me to kill him.Again.I can’t make sense of it. He isn’t the type to give up like that, so I expected a deeper betrayal at any moment. But it never happened. In fact, I had to trigger the spell in the ring before he used my hand to slit his throat. It wasn’t a bluff.”

Tes didn’t look up to see a reaction. It was too much, this terrible, useless confusion. What did she even hope for? That it was all a misunderstanding? Even if that was the case, it would be impossible for their relationship to go back to the way it once was. They couldn’t even make love without a dangerous amount of anger.

“Did he say anything else?” Toren asked.

“Something about how his death would make it easier for me to resume my place.” That had made little sense. She was the king’s only child. By their laws, marriage or a lack thereof would make no difference to her status as heir. “I thought at the time that Ber was somehow sacrificing himself for me, but I don’t understand his thinking on the matter. He was concerned that Duke Aony would cause problems, but the duke is too distant a relative to force me from the throne.”

“Whydoes he always do this?” Toren muttered, a curse slipping from his lips. “He first went to Centoi so that your father would focus any threats on him rather than me. I would bet he’s doing the same thing with you now. If he believes treachery is imminent, he would want your return to be as spectacularly dramatic as possible. Undeniable attention-grabs are his favorite things.”

If Ber had manufactured an entire year’s worth of pain just to “save” her, she would strangle him with her own hands. Why would he ever think she required such coddling? Why?

Unfortunately, there were only two ways she could possibly find out. She would have to read the journal—or ask him.

Chapter 11

Answers

Though Tes had tried to rest at least a little before the dawn, she’d given up not long after the sunlight had streaked across her floor. Her thoughts were simply too unsettled. So she’d headed toward her dressing room, only to hear the faint sound of Speran’s cry from across the hall. Her breasts had gone heavy despite her milk nearly being dried up.

She had little to offer, but she’d fed him. Since she no longer produced enough, she’d been forced to hand him over to the nursemaid when he’d grown restless, but she no longer worried about restimulating her milk supply. With the ring on her finger, she could return to her son from Centoi whenever she needed.

And nursing had its benefits. She’d yet to restart her monthly courses even as her milk had begun to dry out, so she couldn’t get pregnant from her foolish night with Ber. Tes wrinkled her nose. Considering her weakness to her husband, continuing that natural birth suppressant really would be wise. Even if she couldn’t nurse Speran exclusively, it would help.

“Here you are, miss,” the nursemaid said as she passed the drowsy baby back to Tes.

She tucked her son against her chest and tightened the cloth sling around his back and bottom. Careful to support him, Tesstood, checking the sling’s hold before leaving the room. He turned his head back and forth, wiggled a little, and then fell asleep as she opened the door to her room. She paced for a bit to be certain he’d settled before she finally sat at her desk.

For the longest time, she stared down at the dull, brown book. Was she ready to uncover the secrets it held? Would she be able to believe any of it? In truth, she couldn’t decide if she was more worried about falling for another trick or uncovering the extent of the truth. Both promised their measure of pain.

There was nothing for it but to dive in.

Before she could fall into a realm of second-guessing, Tes opened the cover and deactivated the spells cloaking the true words held within. Immediately, she was greeted by her oldest secret note to Ber—meet me in the tunnels before the dawn—and her heart pinched from the bittersweet memories.

Quickly, she flipped through the pages, doing her best not to linger on the decades upon decades of history between them. She needed something far more recent. Something like—Her hand pressed flat against the crease, her eyes locked upon the bold heading scrawled atop the page: TO MY WIFE UPON MY DEATH.

A shiver traced down her spine, the movement causing Speran to stir. Tes rubbed absent circles over her son’s back even as she swallowed against the lump in her throat. Was this recent, or had he previously expected some dark fate? It couldn’t have been too long ago since he’d called her “wife.” Yet there was no hint in that line that he expectedherto kill him.