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I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman before like I want Ana, but I’ve also never known a woman so capable of unraveling me outside the bedroom too.

What does it mean, that she’s the miracle that could save my brother, and yet also seems to be my own, unique kind of weakness?

It must be the gods playing games with me.

Let them. I don’t care—not when those games keep me in her orbit.

I pull my clothes on when I hear someone approaching the door. A servant answers when I ask who it is. I make sure my shirt is done up fully before opening the door. There may be rumors about Ana and me, but we can at least keep the palace guessing.

“What is it?” I ask the servant, keeping the door angled for Ana’s privacy.

“It’s a message from His Majesty, Your Highness,” the servant says. “For Princess Morgana.”

My stomach sinks, but it’s too late to send the servant away and ignore the whole thing. I can already see Ana stirring out of the corner of my eye at the sound of our voices.

“Give it to me, I’ll pass it on,” I say, snatching the piece of parchment out of the servant’s reluctant hand before I dismiss him.

I glance at the message after I’ve closed the door.

It confirms my worst suspicions. Morgana is sitting up now, and I toss the parchment aside as I return to the bed, grabbing her legs to pull her toward me.

Her squeals of playful protest are silenced when I pull her into a kiss, letting my hands roam across the bare skin of her shoulders, drifting down to the base of her spine.

I wish again that we could just stay in this room forever, enjoying each other’s bodies and forgetting about the outside world with all its treacherous distractions.

“What does the message say?” Ana asks, breaking off the kiss.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say, stroking my fingers down her side, exploring the curve from her breast down to her hip.

She gently pushes my hand away, wrapping a sheet around herself to grab the parchment off the floor.

“I heard him say it’s from your grandfather,” she says. Her eyebrows rise as she reads the words written on it.

“He wants an official audience with me tomorrow?”

“You shouldn’t go,” I say.

She looks up at me, her bright eyes serious. “He’s the king, Leon, I have to go.”

“No, you don’t,” I say. “We can leave. We’re due to return to Trova anyway. We’ll just slip away tonight, and you’ll never have to talk to him.”

“What are you so afraid of?” she asks softly. “I just gave him back his heir. After that, he’s sure to want me for an ally, don’t you think?”

“When it comes to him, I’m not sure of anything,” I say. “Except that he’ll always put Filusia first. You remember me telling you that? No matter how glad he is that you healed Fairon, he’ll still try to use you to his advantage.”

“Do you know what he has in mind?” she asks, looking cautious.

“Maybe…he’ll definitely want to discuss Trova’s future with you, and I’m sure he’ll use his sensic power, if he thinks he can get away with it.

That’s his usual tactic—test your boundaries in the discussion while subtly testing your mind too, trying to press on its weak points so that you’ll give him what he wants. ”

I try to make the danger as clear as possible, so she understands what she’s up against. She doesn’t say anything as she rises to cross to the bathroom, still wrapped in her sheet.

“Ana,” I say, a note of warning in my voice.

She spins around.

“I’m done running from people, Leon. I don’t know what the future holds for Trova, but as its princess, I need to hear your grandfather out. He’s not the only one who has to look out for his country.”

She turns and enters the bathroom, going to shut the door behind her. I get there first, wedging it open.

“You’re doing that already— we’re doing that—by removing Oclanna from the picture,” I say. She needs to remember we’re a team in this, and we have a plan that doesn’t involve my grandfather.

“I know, but that’s not the end of it, is it? What happens afterward?” She sighs. “I thought we’d gotten over the idea you could make decisions for me,” she says.

I’ll admit, that stings—enough that I loosen my hold on the door, stepping back. But to my relief, she doesn’t look particularly angry. Instead, she gives me an arched eyebrow.

“Now, I was going to suggest you join me,” she says. “But on second thought, I think I’ll wash alone.”

And she shuts the door in my face.

Once I’m done cursing stubborn princesses who like to tease, I go find a servant to send some messages. By the time Ana emerges from the bathroom, pink and pristine in a fresh day dress, I’m ready for her, as are my unit.

“My soldiers are waiting outside,” I say. “If you’re going to meet my grandfather alone, then we should spend today practicing blocking sensic magic.”

She nods. “That sounds good.”

“I won’t ask them to go easy on you,” I say.

“And I wouldn’t want you to,” Ana says. I know she’s telling the truth.

This woman is not one to back down from a challenge.

It’s just one of the things I find so enticing about her—I know I can push her, and she won’t break.

Instead, she’ll grit her teeth, fight through, and come out the other side stronger.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

“Bring them in.”