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M areleau had never arranged a bouquet with her own hands, and as she assessed the sparse collection of greenery and wild poppies she’d picked from the castle lawn, she realized there was a very good reason for that. If she’d seen such a sad spectacle gracing the vases at Verlot Palace, she’d have insisted upon whoever had made it be fired at once. But this wasn’t Verlot. Nor was it the slightly more modest Dermaine. This was Ridine Castle, and the tiny bundle of drooping flowers was the brightest thing about it.

The bouquet sat in a cracked porcelain vase upon a small table. The table itself was nestled in a narrow courtyard surrounded by overgrown shrubs outside the kitchen. An array of half-melted candles lit the table’s surface, illuminating two sets of empty dishes. Soon the dishes would be ladled with food, and Mareleau’s mission on behalf of her brother-in-law would be complete. With the last vestiges of the sunset painting the sky from pink to indigo, the end result was rather charming, if she did say so herself.

Mareleau jumped at the loud clatter that carried through the open kitchen windows. All right, so the noise was less than charming, but the location was the best she could find. Inside the kitchen, dozens of cooks and servants bustled about in preparation for the king’s dinner. One she’d be expected to attend, same as she had every night she’d been here.

A pang of envy struck her as she glanced at the quaint dining area she’d arranged. While it wasn’t the most elegant of spaces, she regretted that she wouldn’t get to enjoy the fruits of her labor. Her gaze landed on the bottle of wine sitting beside two glasses. That was perhaps the most tempting part of the whole setup. Seven gods, she missed wine. She was so desperate for a sip, it made her sick to her stomach. Literally. Or…maybe the sudden nausea was more due to hunger. Regardless, she knew she couldn’t imbibe, for her ladies were watching, and they’d report back to her mother and father. Until her ruse was up, she needed to act like the epitome of the careful, pregnant queen. That way, when she confessed to the surprising return of her moon cycle, she’d be blameless. Her father would have to carry that guilt, for she was fully prepared to lament over the castle’s agonizingly chilly drafts and the musty air quality.

“It’s lovely, Your Majesty,” Breah said, coming up beside her.

Ann nodded in agreement. “You have a knack for creating elegance, Majesty.”

The girls were pandering to her, but Mareleau didn’t care. Despite her shoddy attempts at setting up a romantic meal, she couldn’t ignore the pride flaring in her chest. She’d never done anything like this before. Perhaps she could do it for Larylis when she returned home to him.

The thought warmed her heart, and a soft smile curled her lips. Before her longing could dip into sorrow, she adopted a flippant tone and said, “It beats picking out hideous linens with Master Arther. Come. Let us prepare for dinner.”

Sera released a groan. “I suppose I should fetch my lady from her horrible tower.”

Mareleau cut a glare at the girl. She was so used to Sera’s presence, she kept forgetting the girl was supposed to be serving the princess. “Sera, you should have readied her for dinner an hour ago.”

Sera shifted from foot to foot. “I…I figured you were more in need of assistance than she, Majesty.”

“Yes, well, she is supposed to attend a romantic meal with my brother. You can’t have her looking like a pauper, for it will surely be the ruination of my efforts. Go get her cleaned up at once.”

Sera’s shoulders slumped, but she sank into an obedient curtsy before shuffling out of the courtyard and into the kitchen. Mareleau and her ladies followed just behind, turning toward the keep as they exited into the hall. She halted in place, glancing in the opposite direction to where Sera was heading for the North Tower Library stairwell. A strange feeling fluttered in her chest, and it wasn’t entirely pleasant. She wasn’t sure what to call it, but it might have been something akin to sympathy.

“The two of you go with her,” she said to Ann and Breah before she could stop herself.

Her maids stared back at her as if she’d lost her mind. And maybe she had.

Breah’s tone turned simpering. “Why, Majesty?”

“Sera will need your help to ready the princess with haste,” Mareleau said.

“Don’t you need our help?” Ann asked. “Surely you want to change into a new gown for dinner.”

“Why? Is there something wrong with how I look now?” She knew it was only habit that drove her maids to expect a change of clothes, but she needed them to stop their whining. “I can manage looking appropriate for dinner just fine. The princess, on the other hand, needs all the help she can get. I won’t have her making a mockery of all the hard work I did tonight. Now go. Follow after Sera and make certain the princess is presentable in the next half hour. Understand?”

The girls bobbed into curtsies before making their grudging departure. Meanwhile, Mareleau ascended the stairs to the keep. She had every intention of heading straight for her room, but when she passed the door she knew belonged to Teryn’s guest quarters, she paused.

Again, that irritating feeling fluttered in her chest. It was less about sympathy this time and more about…was it care? Pride? All she knew was that she wanted to brag to Teryn that tonight’s dinner was going to be fabulous, thanks to her. With her chin held high, she marched to his door and rapped on it with her gloved hand. The lamps illuminating the hall revealed several smudges of dirt on the white silk. She certainly wasn’t used to seeing that.

The door opened in a rush, tearing her from her thoughts. Teryn’s form stood on the other side of the doorway, but she could hardly separate him from the shadows. She frowned, wondering why he was in a dark room.

Some of her excitement waned, and she took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. “You better not tell me you’ve been napping while I’ve been doing all the hard work for you, brother.”

“Brother,” he echoed, a hint of taunting in his tone.

She frowned. That hadn’t been the first time she’d used that word to his face, and he was the one who’d started it, calling her sister . Why did he sound so amused?

He stepped out of the doorway and into the light of the hall.

Mareleau’s eyes went wide as she noted the gash on his cheek, then the way he cradled his hand. A white cloth—his missing cravat, perhaps—was wrapped around it like a bandage.

“Teryn, what the seven devils happened to you?”

He glanced down at his hand and huffed a chuckle. “Ah, that. I broke a glass.”

It must have been quite the violent break for it to have sliced his cheek. And…was there a portion of his shirt missing? His ruffled collar appeared to have been torn. Maybe that was what he’d used to tie his hand. Whatever the case, he looked quite the mess.

She waved at him, motioning him back toward his room. “Clean yourself up at once. You can’t meet Princess Aveline looking like this.”

He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to decipher the meaning of her words. Then, with a shake of his head, he said, “For dinner tonight. The one I asked you to help me with.”

There was something strange about the way he spoke, uttering each word slowly as if he wasn’t quite sure what he was saying. “Are you still asleep? Go! Get changed. Princess Aveline will be coming by at any moment to do the same. I didn’t offer my maids to her for nothing, and I’ll be damned if the both of you embarrass me.”

“Who are we embarrassing you before?”

Mareleau pulled her head back with a scoff. “Me, of course. For two people so madly in love, neither of you seem to know how to impress the other. Perhaps I’ll have to play the mentor to you both.”

He narrowed his eyes again. “Because you’re at Ridine Castle to mentor Princess Aveline.”

Once more with that careful way of talking. It almost seemed like he was asking a question rather than stating a fact. What was wrong with him?

“You know this,” she said. “Now go before I lose my mind and promise never to help you again.”

Teryn watched her with a probing look that was almost unsettling. Then he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “I regret that your aid will come to naught. The princess will not be joining me for dinner tonight.”

“No, she’s simply running behind. My ladies will return with her soon and have her dressed and ready in no time.”

“You don’t understand,” Teryn said with a sigh. “I’ve already been to see her tonight and she refused to come to dinner with me.”

“But…but my ladies?—”

“She will refuse them. Trust me.”

Disappointment sank her stomach. Then anger took its place. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re going to waste the wine I picked out for you. And the cake!” She clenched her jaw with a growl. It wasn’t chocolate cake, but it was lemon chiffon. Mareleau had nearly burst into an inferno of rage when the baker told Teryn she’d make a small cake just for him and Aveline. Where was Mareleau’s cake?

A corner of Teryn’s mouth lifted into a smirk she’d never seen grace his face before. “Wine and cake, you say? Well, we certainly can’t let that go to waste.”

She huffed. “You seem awfully buoyant for a man whose dinner offer was rejected by his beloved. I would have expected you to be more upset.” Or maybe she just didn’t know Teryn well at all. She was finally beginning to warm up to him, but the way he was acting now…it didn’t seem quite right.

“What is there to be upset about? She’s simply busy. I respect her. There’s no need to cling to someone you trust.”

Mareleau felt abashed at that. She may not know her brother-in-law well, but she knew even less about separating love from obsession. She’d clung to her chance at love so hard, she’d lied for it. Betrayed the trust of the person she’d been fighting for. She waited for the guilt to come, but most of it had already faded when Larylis forgave her.

Larylis . Gods how she missed him.

She pushed the thought away. “You must really like her.”

Teryn’s expression shifted, his smile tightening with his jaw, eyes suddenly devoid of mirth. “An understatement.”

“Then why don’t you march over to that tower?—”

“No.” The word came out cold, edged with finality. It hung between them, chilling the air. Then his smile returned, and it was no longer angled into a smirk. “Why don’t you join me for the meal you worked so hard to prepare, sister?”

“Me,” Mareleau said with a grimace. “Dine with you?”

“You seemed quite passionate over the wine and cake. If anyone deserves to enjoy it, it’s you, am I wrong?”

He had a point. She had worked hard, and if Aveline was going to force all that effort to go to waste, then the least she could do was enjoy it. “But…but my presence will be missed at dinner in the hall.”

“Will it, though?”

Another good point. She doubted anyone would even note her absence. Besides, she was only going for cake. She could always join the feast after.

Her stomach churned, rippling with the same nausea she’d felt earlier when she’d lusted over the wine. Seven gods, she was ravenous. She supposed it made sense after all her hard work.

That left her only one answer she could give. “Fine.”

By the time they reached the little courtyard, the plates had already been filled with food, and a small round cake rested upon a tray at the center of the table. Noise still carried from the kitchen, but with most of the staff busy in the dining hall, it was somewhat less chaotic. Still, Teryn didn’t hesitate to close the shutters over the kitchen window and seal the door leading to the courtyard. It cut off even more of the noise, leaving them some semblance of peace.

Teryn lowered himself into one of the seats, his posture casual as he sank into the chair. He seemed…tired. Fatigued. As if he’d been the one slaving away over table decorations the last couple of hours.

Mareleau resisted the urge to sneer at his lax composure and dragged her chair far from his. When they were on opposite ends of the table, she took her seat. She leaned toward the glorious display of lemon chiffon, only to pause with her hand an inch away from the serving knife. Teryn had insisted that his dinner with the princess be unattended by servants, and while she’d found the notion crass then, it was even more so now. She’d never had to slice her own cake before…

Teryn released a soft chuckle and took the knife from under her hand. Then, with deft movements, he sliced the cake with two flicks of the blade and placed the piece on her plate.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, taking up her fork. She was about to take a dainty bite as befitting a queen, when she decided— to hell with it —since no one of import was watching, she might as well shove the largest forkful she could fit. One with equal parts frosting and cake.

She closed her eyes as the sweet lemon flavor melted over her tongue. It made her want to dance in her seat. Were she a younger girl, she would have. She was far too reserved for that now.

The sound of pouring liquid made her open her eyes. Teryn filled his glass with wine, then did the same for hers. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the ruby liquid before her. It took all her strength of will to force her eyes away so she could burn Teryn with a glare. “I can’t have that.”

He arched a brow. “Why not?”

“You damn well know why not.”

He shrugged, taking a long pull from his glass. “Gods, it’s been too long since I’ve tasted wine. Why can’t you have any?”

She glanced around, but she already knew they weren’t being watched. “The baby,” she whispered.

“Ah. Right. You’re pregnant with my brother’s child.”

“Why do you keep acting like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…like you’ve forgotten things.”

He leaned farther back in his chair and tipped his face toward the sky. “It’s been a long day. A day that has felt more like months. So forgive me if I’m beyond caring whether you imbibe.”

She studied him, studied his too-relaxed posture, his loose limbs. Maybe courting Aveline had done a number on his brain. Or was it more that…

Her pulse racketed as realization dawned.

“Did Larylis tell you? Is that why you’re being so lax about this?”

“Tell me what?”

“About…my lie.”

He swirled his glass and watched her over the rim of his cup. “He tells me many things. He’s my brother.”

She felt suddenly small. Abashed. While she couldn’t blame Larylis for wanting to relieve some of the guilt he carried, she hated that he hadn’t warned her in advance that he’d be telling Teryn the truth. “So you know I’m not truly with child.”

An amused grin lifted his lips. “I do now. What an entertaining twist.”

Heat seared her blood and crawled up her cheeks. “Did you just…trick me into confessing?—”

“Seven devils, Majesty,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Drink. Enjoy yourself. Or don’t. I care not about whatever lies you’ve had to tell to get what you want.”

She was flustered beyond belief, unsure whether Teryn had been teasing her or if he still was. Either way, it didn’t seem like he was at all concerned about reporting her actions to her parents.

“Fine,” she said, snatching the glass from the table and bringing it to her lips. She swallowed half the glass in a single gulp, then drained the rest between bites of cake. While she knew she should savor the wine’s taste—it was a lovely vintage, after all—she couldn’t help but fear it would be taken away at any moment. If one servant exited the door, if one of her lady’s maids came looking for her, she’d have to return to her ruse.

Just a few more days , she reminded herself. Her cycle was due soon. Or was it overdue? It didn’t matter. As soon as she could release herself from her lie, she could have all the wine she wanted. Then maybe, just maybe , her remaining days at Ridine would be somewhat tolerable.

“Your Majesty,” Teryn said, refilling both their empty glasses, “I think we should get to know each other better.”

“I suppose,” she muttered, mouth full of cake. She gathered another forkful, noting her movements were growing sloppy. Damn. She should have known better than to drink so fast. Especially with how long it had been since her last drink. Even so, she’d enjoy the wine while she could, no matter how drunk it got her. Rebelling against her own good sense, she drained the rest of her glass and poured more. She chased that with the rest of her cake. With her nerves so unwound, she leaned back in her chair and released a satisfied moan, luxuriating in the sugary fullness of her belly, the burn of the wine, the lightness in her head.

“Tell me, sister. What is your deepest secret? Aside from the one I already know about, of course.” He said the last part with a wink.

“My deepest secret…is that I have no secrets.” She snorted a rather unladylike laugh at her lie.

“Then what is your greatest desire?”

That she could confess. “That I was back home at Dermaine with my husband.”

Teryn’s expression fell with pity. “You've been treated unfairly, Majesty. You deserve better.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.” She lifted her chin, and a wave of dizziness had her swaying in her seat. “I already know.”

“It must be so hard for you to be here alone. Without friends. Without family. All the while watching Princess Aveline get everything she wants. Her home, her lover. And what do you get?”

His words rang true, yet they sounded wrong coming from his lips. Why was he saying these things about the woman he adored? A shudder ran down her spine, and the warmth from the wine, the tingling in her mind and stomach, no longer felt so pleasant.

She stood on unsteady feet but forced herself to seem composed. “I’ve had enough cake,” she said, voice slurred. “I’m going to bed now.”

“No, you should enjoy yourself more. Besides, do you really want people to see you swaying through the halls? Courtiers talk, you know.”

She glared at him, but a swirl of nausea had her dropping back into her seat.

Teryn brushed past her, pausing at the door that led to the kitchen. “If ever there is something you want, do tell me. You’ll find I make a formidable ally and a terrifying enemy.”

She forced herself to turn around in her chair. “Is that some kind of a threat?”

“An offer, Majesty. We’re on the same side.”

“What side is that?”

“The one where we get everything we want.” He winked at her and left, closing the door behind him. As soon as it was shut, she lurched to the side and heaved her precious cake onto the courtyard stones.