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 “We have our first child, a male heir, which means we are going to be inundated with mildly offensive and outdated platitudes.”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 beingthe 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 presenceforyour 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?”
