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M areleau hadn’t been at the newly erected campsite for more than an hour when she decided she already hated camping. The location was charming, she supposed. She hadn’t paid much attention to the scenery on the brief journey here, but now that she’d arrived at her destination, there was little else to do. The wide meadow dotted with bright wildflowers was so lovely, it almost seemed like it had come from a painting. Mountains loomed behind her while a short cliff surrounded by lush forest stood at the other side. The sun was high in the sky, the afternoon warm, but that was where the charm of this supposed hunting expedition ended.

Half of the beautiful meadow and the flowers within it were now crushed by an array of pavilions set up throughout it, leaving only a small area left to wander through. And it was too damn hot for that. Which meant all she could do was sit under the open-air tent that served as a makeshift parlor with her ladies and try not to lose her mind.

Just a few more days, then Larylis will be here , she reminded herself. Just a few more days after that, and I get to go home with him.

Mareleau sank deeper into the cushions of the divan she reclined on, grateful she had no one to put on airs for. There were no courtiers in attendance, only servants, and the men were in their own tent at the other side of the meadow, preparing for their hunt. Breah, Ann, and Sera lounged in chairs around her, gossiping with the same ease they always did. How were her ladies so adaptable, regardless of circumstance? Did none of them miss Selay? Verlot Palace? Did none of them yearn for the stability of their new home at Dermaine Palace like she did?

Instead of voicing any of her questions aloud, she filled her mouth with sweets. Reaching across the tea table, she plucked up a lemon cookie and a piece of candied ginger from a porcelain plate. She chose one of each, less out of hunger and more out of boredom. Gods, she was miserable. There was even less to do here than there’d been at the castle. At least at Ridine she could wander alone and find some empty hall to cry in—something her emotions demanded on a whim these days—but here there was nowhere to go beyond this tent or the meadow. Unless she fancied a trip into the woods where she could get eaten by bears, mosquitoes, or both.

At least no one expected her to attend the hunt itself. Teryn, her uncles, and King Dimetreus would depart for the day’s adventure any time now. Mareleau cast a glance toward the men’s pavilion, and saw only silhouettes as they lounged, drank, and laughed. Around them, servants gathered supplies and readied horses. She was surprised King Dimetreus was here, considering what Cora had said. Dimetreus was technically no longer king. But of course, to abdicate his position, he’d need his sister to take his place.

A sister who was eerily absent.

Mareleau hadn’t caught a single glimpse of Cora the last few days, much to her growing dread. Whenever she’d asked Teryn about her whereabouts, he’d insist she was under severe protection and wouldn’t publicly show herself until after the peace pact was signed. It made sense, she supposed. If Cora was now queen, she’d need far more protection than when she’d been a princess. But this seemed excessive. Especially considering just how little anyone regarded Mareleau’s safety, and she’d been queen for nearly three weeks longer than her new friend.

Breah shifted in her seat and turned toward Mareleau with a wide grin. “Are you comfortable, Majesty? Do you need more tea? More pillows?”

Well, at least someone paid attention to her well-being.

Before she could answer, Sera leaped from her seat and began pouring a fresh cup anyway. “You must stay hydrated in this heat. And eat as many sweets as you like.” She shoved the plate of cookies a little closer.

Breah scowled at Sera, but the other girl paid her no heed.

Sera batted her lashes. “What else do you need, Majesty?”

Ever since Cora had taken up confinement, Sera had returned to Mareleau’s side. It seemed the girl was now desperate to prove she was indispensable. Her efforts, though, bordered on annoying more often than not.

Ann, not wanting to be left out of whatever competition was brewing amongst the queen’s ladies, stood from her chair. “How about a bath, Majesty? I saw a tub in one of the wagons. I can boil water for you and scent it with oils. Oh, and wildflowers from the meadow!”

Mareleau didn’t want to encourage their petty rivalries, but seven gods, a bath sounded divine. She already felt filthy after this morning’s journey, not to mention the sweat caused by the afternoon sun blazing through the open sides of the tent. Additionally, a bath meant privacy. Time alone. Some semblance of peace and purpose in her boredom.

“Very well,” she said to Ann, which earned the girl dark glowers from both Breah and Sera, “you may draw me a bath.”

Larylis was nothing more than raw nerves dressed in human flesh as he rode through the forest toward his destination. A page in Lord Kevan’s livery led the way, guiding him from Ridine Castle to some undisclosed location in the woods nearby. Apparently, the signing of the peace pact would take place on a royal hunt. Thankfully Larylis wasn’t alone, otherwise his imagination might have carried him away to the worst possible scenario. However, it wasn’t Lord Hardingham at his side, calming him down with cool logic; it was King Verdian.

Verdian had been the last person Larylis had wanted to meet on the road, but two days ago, Larylis’ small entourage had caught up with Verdian’s much larger one. Larylis had no choice but to tell his father-in-law of Cora’s strange letter to explain why he’d left his retinue. He’d expected a barrage of insults at having acted so recklessly, and Verdian certainly had a few choice words to say, but after reading Cora’s fading letter a time or two more, the king had calmed down. He’d still insisted the letter was simply the result of a lovers’ quarrel, but his subsequent actions had belied his confident words. Like Larylis had done, Verdian had selected a small group to ride with haste to Ridine.

Thus, Larylis earned his unwanted companion.

He had to admit the king steadied his nerves somewhat. He hoped with all his heart that Verdian was right—that Cora’s letter was the culmination of a simple quarrel and nothing more.

“We’re here,” the young page said, guiding their party into a wide clearing. A sunlit meadow stretched ahead, filled with several pavilions. At the edge of the meadow, a group of men on horseback entered the woods. Larylis thought he could make out the figures of King Dimetreus and Lord Kevan. Closer, another group mounted their horses. Lord Ulrich was amongst them, and…was that Teryn?

Larylis hadn’t recognized his brother first, for his back had been facing them. But now that Teryn turned, Larylis saw his face beneath a tricorn hat. Larylis frowned. Since when did Teryn wear tricorns on a hunt? He didn’t think he’d ever seen his brother don a hat.

Teryn tugged his horse’s reins and faced the approaching party. “Brother. King Verdian. I’m glad to see you’ve arrived early. We were just about to depart for the day’s hunt. Will you be joining us?”

Larylis frowned. That was Teryn’s voice, but his tone was too formal. The hat cast Teryn’s face in shadow, but Larylis was almost certain his cheeks appeared thinner. Paler.

Verdian said nothing to Teryn and rode straight for Ulrich. Larylis watched as the brothers spoke in hushed tones, their horses side by side. There was something smug about Ulrich’s countenance, and he gave only short answers to Verdian’s questions, most of which were too quiet for Larylis to hear.

He forced his attention back to Teryn, who remained seated on his horse. Keeping his voice casual, he said, “Are you well, brother?”

“Quite. And you? How were your travels?”

He was too polite. Too stiff. He was acting different, but that didn’t suggest anything outright sinister. “We met no trouble on the road. Where is Princess Aveline?”

“She’ll be with us shortly.” He shifted in his saddle and pointed to the other end of the meadow. “Your wife is in the last tent.”

Had that been…a diversion? If so, it worked. Larylis’ eyes locked on the elegant pavilion. He recognized Mareleau’s lady’s maids chatting outside the closed front flap. From the ease of their postures, the animated manners in which they spoke to each other, he sensed nothing amiss. Nothing to suggest Mareleau was in danger.

He returned his gaze to Teryn and saw his brother smiling back at him. It was a familiar grin, as comforting as a warm embrace. Larylis was starting to believe he really had overreacted.

“She’s missed you terribly,” Teryn said, lowering his voice. His previous air of formality was gone. “I’m sure you already knew that.”

Verdian broke away from Ulrich. “I’ll see my daughter at once.”

“I believe she’s bathing, Majesty,” Teryn said, prompting a flush of color to rise to the king’s cheeks. “At least, that’s what I’ve guessed based on the many buckets of boiled water I saw one of her maids dragging into the tent for the better part of an hour.”

Teryn was back to that formal tone again. Was it simply an act he was putting on in front of Verdian?

Larylis glanced back at his wife’s pavilion, heart pulsing with longing. While he had many questions to ask Teryn, he needed to see Mareleau. Needed to confirm she truly was safe.

“Why don’t you stay here, brother?” Teryn said. “Verdian, you should join us on our hunt. We have much to discuss regarding the peace pact, and what better time to start than now? If we are to take advantage of the daylight, we must leave at once. Dimetreus and Kevan already have a head start.” He nodded toward the edge of the woods where the first party was now hidden beyond the trees.

“Very well,” Verdian said, giving Larylis a subtle nod. Larylis knew what he was wordlessly trying to convey: Larylis would check on Mareleau while Verdian assessed the situation with Teryn and the others. Verdian ordered two of his guards to remain behind with Larylis while the other two would accompany him on the hunt. Larylis had left Lord Hardingham and his own guards back at Ridine to keep an eye on things there.

“Let’s be off then,” Teryn said, then cast his smile at Larylis again. “You’ll join us on tomorrow’s hunt, though, won’t you? It will be like old times.”

Larylis mirrored his brother’s grin. Was he pulling at straws trying to find something malevolent in his brother’s eyes? Of course this was Teryn. This was his brother. His best friend. “Like old times.”

Only…where was Berol? She’d accompanied Larylis on his journey until he’d met up with Verdian. After that, she’d made an appearance now and then, reminding him she was still following, but her absence struck him now. Why wasn’t she perched on Teryn’s shoulder, elated to see him? Or at the very least circling overhead?

“Give her this.” Verdian’s voice roused Larylis from his thoughts. The king pulled his horse up beside Larylis’ mount and thrust out a small package.

Larylis took it, brow furrowed.

Verdian’s cheeks pinked again. “It’s for the baby. My…grandchild,” he muttered between his teeth, then pulled his horse away.

Larylis watched after him, a lump caught in his throat. While Larylis knew Mareleau’s condition was fabricated, Verdian’s gesture moved him. Perhaps he really had come to regret the awful things he’d said to her when they’d last spoken.

Larylis watched the party depart, a sight that made his gut feel heavy, then rode for the other end of the meadow. With Verdian’s gift clutched in his hand, he dismounted and made a beeline for Mareleau’s tent. Her three ladies caught sight of him and dipped into hasty curtsies.

“Majesty,” Breah said, eyes wide, “the queen is inside, but?—”

He didn’t let her finish. Ignoring their flustered warnings, he charged into the tent, his heart racing with every step.

The air was heavy inside, even warmer than the outdoor summer temperature, infused with jasmine-scented steam. It wafted from a copper basin at the center of the tent. And in it was his wife.

She bolted upright when she saw him, rising from the tub in a rush. “Larylis!”

He pulled up short, eyes falling on her bare torso, taking in the rivulets of water trailing down her neck, her breasts, the planes of her stomach. He’d known she was bathing. Known she’d likely be naked. But seeing her like this, the surprise on her face, followed by the way she immediately sank back into the tub, filled him with an aching sense of self-awareness.

He turned abruptly around. “I’m sorry,” he called over his shoulder, not daring to look at her. “I thought you’d be behind a screen.”

He heard nothing in reply, only the pounding of his heart.

Seven devils, had he embarrassed her? Offended her?

He’d been too caught in his worry, his passion, his desperation to see her, that he hadn’t stopped to consider one important thing: that even though they’d loved each other for years and were now married, their relationship was still new in many ways. They’d been estranged for longer than they’d been lovers and had spent most of their marriage apart. While Larylis was confident when writing love letters, able to bare his soul and express the depths of his heart behind the safety of a quill and paper, he suddenly found himself feeling very much tongue-tied and vulnerable. How was he supposed to act with her in person? Could he voice aloud the things he’d said in his letters?

As for seeing her naked…well, they’d only been wholly intimate once. That hardly granted him permission to barge in on her while she was bathing. What had he been thinking? Still, the memory of their single night of passion surged through him now, mingling with the sight of seeing her in the tub. It sent heat coursing through him that he wasn’t sure was entirely appropriate in this moment. Never before had he felt less like a king and more like a fool.

He swallowed hard and took a step forward, prepared to bolt from the tent?—

“Larylis.” This time Mareleau’s voice held no surprise, only softness. “Turn around, you idiot.”

The taunting in her tone set his nerves at ease, encouraged his lips to curl up at the corners. Slowly, he shifted back to face her.

She was standing again, but this time her chin was lifted, her shoulders thrown back. Again, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down her figure. Now that he had her permission, he let himself savor every inch of her slick skin, her ample curves, the pale hair that framed her shoulders. He lifted his gaze to her eyes, saw hunger in them, as well as a dash of timidity that matched his own. She grinned, biting a corner of her bottom lip.

“Come here.” Her words were whispered, but there was command in her tone. “Get in the tub with me.”

His stomach tightened, his mind going blissfully empty.

He dropped the gift and shrugged off his jacket and sword belt in quick succession, letting them fall to the floor before he strode straight for his wife. With every step, he loosened a button, discarded one piece of clothing, then the next, until he stood bare before the tub, his lips pressed against hers. She pulled him tight to her, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Her tongue swept against his, and he released a throaty moan.

He no longer felt an ounce of apprehension between them. His fear melted away, as did his self-consciousness. In this moment, he was the confident king he’d been in his letters. Every promise he’d made, every embarrassing poem he’d drafted during their time apart now filled his lips, his tongue, his fingertips, reaffirming his affection for her.

Stepping blindly into the tub, he erased every inch of space that separated them. One hand circled her bottom while the other explored the generous curve of her breast. She arched against him as if she yearned to be even closer than their flush bodies would allow. He breathed in every kiss she gave him like it was air, touched every part of her like he was committing the feel of her to memory. Desire seared his core, coalescing in a hungry roar that pulsed between them, infused their shared kisses and groping hands. He sank into the basin, his fingers tangled in her sodden hair. She followed him into the water, straddling his hips as she lowered herself on top of him.

She pulled her face back slightly, eyes locked on his. “Gods, I missed you, Lare.”

He opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to say anything back. Instead, she kissed him again. With a rock of her hips, she lowered herself further onto him, sparking new sensations of pleasure. Larylis forgot his fears, forgot everything but her as they lost themselves in each other’s bodies, in their love, and made up for lost time.