The poor guardsman stopped again, stiff as a board. His eyes went to me and lingered, spellbound.
“Escort my wife back to her chambers,” Nicolas ordered.
My heart sank.
I could have killed Russel for this. Maybe I’d poison him, or compel dark forces to take him in the night.
Russel’s lips parted. Nicolas saw that, then flicked his gaze to me with an accusatory look. “Wait.”
“Y-Your Majesty?”
Nicolas leaned forward and whispered, “Alana, did you…use magic on yourself?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, tearing my eyes away. Nicolas made a disappointed sound and crossed his arms.
“Guardsman, find Quinn.”
“Yes, right away, Your Majesty!” Russel shouted, and then he was gone in a flash, leaving us to conduct the most painful staredown of my life.
Nicolas quirked a brow. “I believe I told youno.”
“Based on old wives’ tales and your mother’s meddling. I thought you were a skeptic, but you’re as superstitious as a milkmaid.” My frown deepened. “But of course. Summon Quinn to send me to my room like I’m an unruly child who needs handling.”
“I’m summoning Quinn because he’s the only man I trust not to do anything to you while you’re…gods, what did you do to yourself, anyways?”
“Then send for Marcy.” I owed him no specifics. If he was struggling with arousal, good!
“Marcy likely brought you to me. She’s no more on my side than you are.” A knock at the door, and Quinn entered, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken up. Then he straightened with an exaggerated yawn, folding his arms.
I’d never seen him in nightclothes, but this was a sight. Maybe it was the broken hand that had given him no choice, but he arrived in nothing but a pair of loose linen pants, low-slung and tied off with a drawstring. I peeled my eyes away.
“You summoned me?” he asked, and bless him, he managed to stare right through me like I didn’t exist. I almost believed the magic had no effect on him, but that wouldn’t make sense.
“Quinn, please escort Alana back to her chambers. And see to it that her Queensguard does not let her back out tonight.”
Quinn blinked. “All right, then. Come along, Your Majesty.”
I could have hissed, but I didn’t. I gave up, sulking my way from the room, and when I gave my husband one last pleading pout, he was making his bed and paying me no mind.
We shut the door and proceeded back to my chambers. Guardsman Russel lurked near Nicolas’ room, eyeing me like I’d come out naked. Quinn moved to block Russel’s line-of-sight, his guard maintained all the way down the corridor.
Marcy seemed surprised by my return. I opened the door and took a step into my room.
“Alana,” Quinn said. I turned toward him. “Did Nicolas touch you?”
At first I thought he was asking if I was okay, if my husband had been indecent. But I saw the meaning in his eyes—he was in utter disbelief. My wounds were freshly salted, and I gave him a glare that could curdle milk.
Marcy looked between us, then cleared her throat. “I’m going to find myself conveniently elsewhere for a few minutes.”
Quinn nodded, and off she marched. Then he put a hand on his bare hip, and I had to fight myself not to stare anywhere below his chin.
“He expects you to wait out a pregnancy—chaste—because his mother’s filled his head withnonsense. Meanwhile, you’re…”
I raised a brow and signed.“I’m what?”
Quinn tensed and went no further. My anger morphed as I became increasingly aware of how Quinn was staring at me. There was disbelief, fascination, outrage, and…want.
“What would you do?”I started, wondering why I kept going as my hands refused to stop.“If you were him?”
