My confusion spiked.What princess?What preparations?I'd be gone in four months.
"My lord, I'm not sure this is the appropriate time to discuss this."
"Royal succession is critical, Petra.Surely you understand the importance of producing an heir to secure the alliance."Viktor's voice carried the patient tone of someone explaining something obvious."The medical staff will need to be briefed, the royal nursery brought up to modern standards.These things take time to arrange properly."
My heart started hammering.They were talking about me.About heirs.About nurseries and medical staff and arrangements that took time.
But that didn't make sense.
"The Grand Duchess has already expressed her hopes for grandchildren," Viktor continued."Given Princess Bettina's age and health, there's no reason to delay planning.In fact, I'd suggest beginning preparations within the year."
"My lord..."
"I know this may seem premature, we should think ahead.The Princess's permanent apartments will also need to be established.We can't have her living in guest quarters indefinitely."
Permanent apartments.
The words echoed in my head like a gong.
"Of course, my lord."Petra's voice had gone unreadable, her palace-staff voice, the one she used when she disagreed but couldn't say so.
Their footsteps moved away, conversation fading into the ambient sounds of the garden.I stayed crouched behind the rosemary, my legs cramping, unable to move.
Permanent apartments.Nursery preparations.Producing heirs within the year.
They were planning for a future that extended far beyond six months.Planning for children I'd supposedly bear, rooms I'd supposedly occupy, a life I'd supposedly live in this palace.
But that wasn't the arrangement.
My hands started shaking.The basket slipped from my fingers and landed in the dirt.
There had to be an explanation.Viktor must be confused about the timeline.Maybe he was talking about contingency plans that applied to all royal marriages regardless of duration.
But Viktor hadn't sounded confused.He'd sounded certain.Matter-of-fact.
I straightened slowly, my legs protesting.Picked up the basket with hands that didn't feel steady.Mechanically gathered the rosemary Chef Marcello had requested, trying to convince myself I'd misunderstood.
By the time I reached the palace, I'd talked myself halfway into believing it was a mistake.Viktor had been speaking hypothetically.Or about some other princess.Or about long-term planning even for temporary situations.
I found Petra in the linen closet on the second floor, counting pillowcases with the focused attention of someone trying not to think about uncomfortable conversations.
"Petra."My voice came out steadier than I felt."Can I ask you something?"
She looked up, and something in my expression made her set down her clipboard."Of course, Your Highness."
"I was in the herb garden.I overheard you and Viktor talking."I tried to make my voice casual."About nursery preparations?"
Her face went carefully blank."Yes, my lord wanted to discuss household arrangements."
"He mentioned permanent apartments.And heirs."I forced a laugh that sounded brittle even to my own ears."I mean, I'll be gone in four months, so I don't know why he'd be planning all that for me."
The clipboard slipped from Petra's hands and clattered to the floor.
She stared at me, her face draining of color."Your Highness.What do you mean, four months?"
The bottom dropped out of my stomach.
"The marriage," I said slowly."Six months total.Four months left.The temporary arrangement to secure the alliance."
