It was too soon to tell.
A heavy weight crushed my chest. My breath shortened as I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Kal?”
A grunt escaped me as I waved it off, shoving the calendar beneath Fallione’s stack. “It’s nothing.”
“Careful. Elohios might revoke his blessing.”
My gaze snapped to his.
Greaves lifted a brow, shrugging. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“It is nothing,” I bit out. “Look at these.” I shoved a rough blueprint across the desk. A deflection—for both of us.
He took it, unimpressed. He knew my tactics all too well. With a sniff, he settled into his seat, studying the sketches. “You plan to demolish the queen’s chambers?” He turned the page, angling it for a better vantage.
“Nienna has no need for them. It’s wasted space.”
“And when she gets sick of you?”
I glared.
But he smirked. “What of the next generations? Tradition says the king and queen keep separate rooms.”
“I’m breaking that tradition.” Future rulers wouldn’t suffer the previous marriage I did. Separate lives—meeting once a monthto copulate. It would not be repeated. “I didn’t give it to you so you could pry into my love life. The security—do you approve?”
“I already know more than I should,” he huffed, then leaned closer. “Sneaking through gardens like a besotted, lovesick fool.”
My jaw tightened, and I drummed my fingers along the desk. Push him further and we would trade words for blows in the sparring ring—and I had no time for that.
“This balcony.” He stood, tapping the plan. “Too close to the oak. Give it years and it becomes a problem.”
I turned the print. “Move it to the bedroom window?”
“And when an assassin breaches it and I have to traverse two rooms?” His tone went flat.
I sighed. “I’ll revise it.”
“Why not refashion your own rooms?”
“She needs a balcony.” I set the plan aside, rubbing my temple as my eyes returned to Fallione’s list.
Greaves straightened with a grunt.
My chambers were functional. Secure. Sleep and bathe. Nothing more. But Nienna needed air, height, light. She deserved to feel as if she hovered, as if she rode a dragon. Sunlight should pour in and set her hair aflame.
I craved to take her in the moonlight’s glow, to have comfortable quiet moments with her in my arms. Privacy—away from the mantle and its burden.
For Nienna, I wanted comfort.
Not practicality.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nienna
Edith braided my hair, a tidy mess of plaits crisscrossing my scalp before wrapping into a crown. Freya’s fingers skimmed my side, and I clenched my teeth against the tickle as she laced my dress.
