I go and wrap my arms around her.
“I would never ask you to act against your conscience,” I murmur. “If anything happens…look after my children. Make sure they are protected.”
She nods against my shoulder, already crying.
Rowan rubs a hand over his face. “I will protect you as longas I draw breath,” he says. “But I think this is a catastrophic mistake.”
“I know.”
All eyes turn to Ashford.
He has not moved.
Finally, he says, very evenly, “I will look into it.”
Relief loosens something in my chest.
“The man who worked the ring has vanished again,” he adds. “Men like him surface when it suits them. We may have to wait.”
“I do not want to wait,” I say.
“Then we will not,” he replies quietly. “But we will not rush blindly either.”
Before I can respond, the sound of boots echoes outside the throne room.
The doors swing open and Charles storms in.
He stops when he sees us gathered around the table.
For a split second, something sharp flashes across his face, suspicion, perhaps, but it disappears beneath warmth.
“There you are,” he says breathlessly. “They told me you had taken ill. I was worried.”
He crosses the room and pulls me into an embrace before I can fully evade him. His grip is firm but not crushing. The ring remains steady against my skin.
Ashford stands perfectly still behind him. I can feel the tension in him even without looking.
“I am quite all right,” I say carefully.
Charles beams. “You should have seen the Avar line break,” he says, launching into an account of the campaign. “We will celebrate. A ball. The court needs spectacle.”
He turns suddenly to Ashford.
“And you—I will require your services tomorrow. There is work to be done.”
Ashford bows smoothly. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
He moves toward the door.
Charles calls after him. “What business had you here?”
Ashford does not hesitate. “Her Majesty required my counsel regarding your son. Pepin. The matter has been addressed.”
Charles studies him for a long moment, then nods.
“Good.”
Ashford meets my eyes once before he leaves.Hold steady.
