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In many ways, I wanted to be angry with Branford—at him—for his shortsightedness and his lust for revenge. He had placed us in this precarious position, and we all had to pay the price. But I could not be vexed with him because I knew my husband better than anyone else knew him.

I had seen him through our times together—the pain at the loss of his parents, the guilt and rage he felt at being so powerless to help them when they were attacked had been shown to me many, many times. Above all else, he harbored resentment that they were taken away, and he was left to live without them. After the war, he added to his shoulders the guilt of the lives lost in battle.

I also knew myself better than I ever had before.

Without his rash and childish demonstration of disrespect in taking my hand, I would still be a handmaid to Princess Whitney. Though the position itself did not sound abhorrent to me, I had learned that not all servants were treated as she treated hers. I had made it clear that servants in Castle Silverhelm were not to be treated harshly, and the conditions in Silverhelm for the lower classes had improved though they had never been as bad as they were for those in Hadebrand. The people of Silverhelm now looked to me as their commoner princess, the royal who considered their needs before her own.

Of course there was what was most important to my heart—for if Branford had not made such a bold move, I would not have him as my husband. That in itself was unthinkable to me. If one could have looked into the future and changed one’s path, perhaps I might have found some other way to be with my Branford, but we cannot change what has been—we can only make do with where we are.

My thoughts brought me back to those years when I was a servant to Princess Whitney and the brutality I had witnessed though seldom endured myself. I remembered thoughts I had as a child—envious thoughts that sometimes plagued my slumber.

“When I was young, I dreamed of being like Princess Whitney,” I said, confessing my inner thoughts to the queen. “I thought having servants and beautiful clothing would be so much…fun.”

“And now?”

“I think if given a true choice, I would rather be a commoner again.”

“What do you mean a ‘true choice’?”

I wondered if I should tell her what Branford had suggested. I decided it would do no harm since we would never do such a thing.

“Branford said we could leave,” I said quietly. “He said he would take me far away so we would not have to suffer this.”

I pulled back and looked at the queen’s face.

“The thought was born of fear, Sunniva. He would never have truly considered…”

“I know, Alexandra,” Sunniva said. A small, sad smile crossed her face. “There is not one of us who has not entertained such thoughts from time to time. Even now, as my husband is likely living through his final months, I wish I could take him away from his duties and his worries. But his duties would not magically disappear were he to go into hiding. Someone must care for our people, and if he does not, it must fall to Branford even if he is not ready for the responsibility. There are still those in Silverhelm who suffer for every poor decision either Camden or Branford has made. Think of how they would suffer with no leader at all. If Branford did not take the throne, what would become of our people?”

“They would be vulnerable,” I said. My gaze dropped to my hands in my lap. “Without a clear leader on the throne, Silverhelm would be open for attack from more than just Hadebrand.”

“Hadebrand, Peaks, Seacrest—they would be like vultures tearing at the bones after a feast—a feast made of our people’s flesh. Look at what has happened to Wynton since the loss of the war.”

“The people there suffer greatly,” I said with a nod. “I heard Branford and Camden speaking of the famine there and how Edgar will not allow food to be brought in. He considers it punishment for Lord William’s defiance. Branford said Sir Rylan in Seacrest may be able to—”

“Hush.” Queen Sunniva placed her fingers against my lips. “Do not speak of such things, not even here.”

I nodded and found myself looking around the room. Who could have heard us here? Was the possibility of spies so great I could not speak of Branford’s allies sneaking food to the people who used to be subjects of Silverhelm? Perhaps it was.

“I spoke with Lady Susan a fortnight ago.” Sunniva reached out her hand and took mine. “The conditions in the village worsen each week. Many are weakened by the lack of food and have fallen sick.”

“Silverhelm itself would be so much worse if left undefended,” I said. I knew King Edgar continued his vendetta against anyone who was considered a friend of Silverhelm. If his influence spread farther or if he gained more control over Silverhelm, our people would be targeted, abused, and killed.

“Precisely,” the queen said with a nod, “which is why you will endure for the sake of our people and our kingdom. We will endure everything we must.”

I nodded but could not stop my tears from coming again.

“I know how hard this is for you,” she said softly. “Your position is not unlike mine nearly was many years ago. Camden had to consider the same thing when I did not become with child. It tore at his heart even more than it did at mine. I imagine it is the same for Branford.”

“He does not want to do this,” I said.

“I know,” the queen replied. “He and Camden have spoken often of what to do. I wanted him to discuss it with you, but the idea of bringing you pain is abhorrent to him. He was convinced you would become with child eventually and did not want you to suffer with such thoughts unnecessarily.”

Sunniva reached over to me again and took me into her embrace.

“He loves you so,” she said softly. “I hope he tells you this.”

“He does,” I assured her. “Very often.”

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