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L arylis had read every book he could find about pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting, his sources ranging from medical texts to fiction. He’d been startled to find just how quickly he’d run out of reading material. And it wasn’t because he’d read through them so quickly. It was because the royal libraries at both Dermaine and Verlot were severely lacking in the subject. Especially where parenting was concerned or any of the myriad of other facets of becoming a new father.

So when he met his son for the first time, he found not a page of reading had been adequate in preparing him. The emotions welling up inside him at the sight of his wife holding their tiny child were stronger than anything he’d felt before. Stronger than grief or mourning. Stronger than desire or betrayal.

Mareleau’s joy mirrored his own as he settled onto the bed beside her. He let that joy wash over him. Let it sweep away the last vestiges of the anxiety he’d carried around all morning. The last twelve hours had been hell on his nerves. Mareleau hadn’t wanted him in her room while she labored, and he’d respected that. Respected it yet went half out of his mind pacing Teryn’s room. His only comfort was reciting all the great queens of history who’d delivered early babies or experienced surprising births. Teryn had tolerated this madness with stoic calm and had stayed by his side all night and morning until both had fallen into fitful rest.

When a knock had sounded at Teryn’s suite door, Larylis had bolted awake at once, shooting to his feet from the divan he’d been dozing on. His heart had nearly leaped from his chest when his mother-in-law announced that Mareleau was ready for him to see her.

He’d rushed down the hall to his wife’s room at once, fearing his heart might stop before he made it.

But it hadn’t. Instead, his heart had been shattered and soothed all at once.

And now it was calm.

Calm.

A feeling he wished would last forever.

He could hardly tear his eyes from his son—from Noah—but he managed to shift his gaze to his wife. His brave, beautiful wife. She caught him looking at her and gave him a warm yet tired smile.

“You did well,” he said.

Her expression faltered a bit at that. “Yes, I secured our heir.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

She blinked a few times as if realizing she did in fact know. She shook her head. “No, of course you didn’t. I suppose I’m already on edge waiting for all the congratulatory sentiments. Congratulating not me for being a mother, and not Noah for being born, but our legacy. That we’ve finally secured our throne. As if simply being crowned isn’t enough. To be honest, I almost wanted him to be born a girl, just to spite their expectations. And yet…” She released a heavy sigh. “Birthing male heirs is what is expected of me as queen, so I better steel myself for all the congratulations.”

Larylis draped his arm behind her and hugged her close to his side without disrupting her seated position or the sleeping babe in her arms. “It’s not what I expect of you. If we’d had a girl, I’d have been just as pleased. I’d have named her our heir without any reservations. I would have empowered her as she grew up. I wouldn’t belittle her or make her feel inferior in my attempts to protect her.”

She winced at his words, reminding Larylis of the guilt she harbored over her father’s death, particularly over their lack of reconciliation. But it hadn’t been her fault, and his tragic death didn’t mean they had to overlook his flaws. Verdian had been a great king but an imperfect father, just as Larylis’ own father had been a great king yet a flawed husband to Teryn’s mother.

Larylis wouldn’t be like either of them. He would honor their lives, mourn their deaths, and learn from their mistakes—the same way he learned from textbooks and historical records.

“You are right, though,” he said. “We have our first child, a male heir, which means we are going to be inundated with mildly offensive and outdated platitudes.”

She smirked at that. “At least we have Cora and Teryn’s wedding to overshadow our big news. We’ll have some respite before the attention shifts to us.”

“We’ll be expected to host a grand party,” he said with a grimace.

“Does that mean I can coerce you to dance?”

He made an exaggerated look of displeasure. “I suppose I can tolerate a single dance.”

Her smile grew brighter, sweeter. She angled her face toward him and lifted her chin. “I love you, Larylis.”

His heart stuttered. They’d been married for over eight months now, and he still wasn’t used to those words.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, then brushed his lips against hers. He didn’t dare kiss her any deeper, for she was fatigued. He’d claim her love, not her attention. Not until she was rested and ready to divert any focus from Noah to Larylis. He didn’t care if it took weeks. Months. Years, even. He’d gleaned enough from his many hours of reading to expect things to be different between them for a while. They’d find a new rhythm. A new way of life. A new way to love one another, even as their hearts had now split into three.

He pulled his lips from hers, but their eyes remained locked. Gods, she was beautiful. Even more so now, with her hair mussed and her eyes shadowed with dark circles. He was so enchanted by her that he didn’t notice they had a visitor until a throat cleared.

He turned his gaze to the door, expecting to find Helena, for she’d stepped out to give them privacy when Larylis had arrived. But it wasn’t his mother-in-law standing in the doorway. It was Cora.

The darkness in her eyes, the grief in her expression, should have been enough to warn Larylis that his world was about to be upended.

Cora hated being the bearer of such tidings. It brought her no satisfaction to see her friends’ happy faces cloud over. She’d almost lost her nerve and kept quiet but that would have been even more unbearable. Cora was done lying to the people she loved, especially where magic was concerned. She’d seen negative repercussions both from telling the truth and keeping secrets, but the latter had always burdened her more. More than anything, Mareleau deserved to know the truth. As did Larylis.

So she told them.

She sat at the foot of the bed, not wanting to close the distance lest the proximity of her friends’ emotions test her mental wards. Halfway through, Teryn joined her, sitting silently at her side, her hand in his. He must have spoken to Helena already. Cora wasn’t sure what he’d told her to ensure she kept Mareleau’s midwives and maids silent. Helena had been left in the dark about magic and only knew what had been made public. So Teryn had either given her an ominous warning or made something up. Whatever it was, Cora trusted him. He’d asked to share her burden so she would let him.

Silence fell after she relayed what she’d come to say. Mareleau spoke first, her voice trembling. “You think I’m a witch.”

Cora nodded.

“That I have Elvyn blood.”

Another nod.

“You think Noah is…is…” She stared down at her son, her face twisted either with shock or confusion. “You think he’s some prophesied fae king?”

“Yes,” Cora said.

Mareleau’s shoulders sank. If she hadn’t already looked exhausted, she looked practically lifeless now.

Larylis too looked drained, his face pale. His voice was hoarse as he said, “What does this truly mean? In a practical sense.”

“We don’t know,” Teryn said. “All we need to worry about now is keeping Noah’s birth a secret. We’ll spread word that Mareleau left. That she was too uneasy being here so close to her due date.”

Mareleau scoffed. “I came here for your wedding.”

Cora gave her a pitying glance. “You can’t be there, Mare. Not unless you can hide that you’ve given birth.”

“So you’re telling me,” Mareleau said, her tone sharp, “that I came here for a wedding I can’t attend. And that my very presence for your wedding is what made the prophecy come true. What would have happened if I’d stayed home? Would that have broken the prophecy? And would that have been good or bad? Is this really all on me and my actions?”

A flicker of panic-laced guilt shot through Cora, but it wasn’t her own. Mareleau’s spike of emotion battered Cora’s shields. Cora shifted on the edge of the bed, pressing one of her feet more firmly on the floor to ground her energy and strengthen her wards.

“What exactly is Noah meant to do anyway?” Mareleau said. “He’s a godsdamned baby. And what clue do we have from the prophecy? He will unite three crowns and return El’Ara’s heart . The prophecy said a whole lot about me, but not much about their true Morkara. Are we supposed to fend off King Darius until Noah comes of age and becomes some fated warrior that will destroy him?”

Cora had no answers to give. She glanced at Teryn, wondering if there was more Emylia could tell them. As far as Cora knew, she’d been a seer—a witch with strong clairvoyance—which meant she’d channeled the prophecy from images and put them into words. Had she seen how Noah would unite three crowns? What it meant for him to return El’Ara’s heart? There were so many ways those words could be interpreted. Uniting three crowns may already have happened when Cora considered naming him her heir. Or would her marriage to Teryn bring that about, as her husband’s nephew would surely link Khero to Vera, regardless of who was named heir? The three crowns themselves could refer to the two kingdoms Mareleau inherited plus Khero. Or it could refer to Vera, Khero, and El’Ara, united by his birth. Returning El’Ara’s heart could simply mean reforging Lela into a single kingdom. Or it could mean drawing the land back to El’Ara.

Cora’s mind spun with possibilities.

Mareleau spoke again, and this time her voice cracked. “What about the future? Is Noah supposed to grow up just to leave me to rule the fae realm?”

Cora met her friend’s tear-glazed eyes. “We don’t know, and we can’t worry about that now.”

“How can I not worry? This is unfair.”

Unfair .

The word lanced her chest, and she flinched.

Mareleau spoke again. “I never asked to be part of this prophecy. For my newborn son to be burdened with this responsibility. I never asked?—”

Mareleau’s voice cut off, her eyes wide as they locked on Cora’s. It was then Cora became aware of her own expression. Of the tightness of her jaw. The narrowing of her eyes. She hadn’t meant to glare at Mareleau. Hadn’t meant to react so sharply to her friend’s tirade.

Mareleau averted her gaze from Cora’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask for this but neither had you.”

Cora said nothing, for what could she say to that? To the reminder that Mareleau may bear the true responsibility as the prophesied mother, but Cora had already been punished for it?

Cora hated the flicker of resentment that sparked in her heart. Hated the anger that continued to simmer.

A soft cry shattered the air, and all eyes fell on Noah.

“I need to nurse him,” Mareleau said, tone flustered.

“We’ll give you privacy,” Cora said, and she and Teryn rose from the bed.

Larylis gave his wife a questioning glance, but she whispered, “Stay.”

Cora’s chest tightened as she and Teryn headed for the door. She couldn’t help but feel anxious after that tense exchange she’d had with Mareleau. Desperate to mend the rift, she stopped at the doorway and turned a hopeful look to her friend. “I’ll come back later, all right?”

Mareleau met her eyes and gave her a soft yet tired smile. “All right.”

Cora let that smooth the edges of her nerves as she and Teryn left the room, his hand clasped comfortingly around hers.