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Chapter 1
Birth
Tes didn’t belong here now—but then again, she never had.
Quietly, she eased back from the side of the bed until her shoulders touched the wall. Anything to avoid intruding on Ria, who reclined against the pillows with her newborn daughter at her breast. Toren sat beside them, his gaze locked on the two, and an equally enraptured Mehl stood by their wife at the head of the bed. It was a moment of such perfect happiness that moisture pooled in Tes’s eyes, but she managed to restrain her tears.
When the healer had placed her own son on her chest, Tes truly had wept. With joy, of course, but also with profound grief. There’d been no perfect moment for them. They’d been betrayed, she and her son, by the man who’d sworn to love them forever, no matter the cost. Ber had vowed to protect his child; instead, he’d sent him, unborn, into certain danger. Her empty bedside had brought that home like nothing else could.
Now, agony sliced her heart to see how the kings doted over Ria and their daughter. How they’d been here for her through it all, even when the healer, Mery, had tried to chase them out. But Tes’s pain wasn’t caused by bitter envy for her friend,who’d supported her despite their unfortunate first meeting. Ria deserved every loving glance and tender moment the kings gave.
It was simply that Tes couldn’t bear to witness what she would never have.
Letting out a long, resigned breath, she took a tentative step forward. “I should go check on Speran.”
Her skin glowing with sweat and happiness, Ria smiled up at her. “Of course. Thank you for being here for me, Ryssa.”
Tes suppressed a wince at the name, a fake one she’d had to wear for too long already. But there was no way around it—her identity as Ryssa was the only thing keeping her safe from Ber. Probably her father, too. In truth, it was impossible to know for certain how many people wanted her dead. She’d long ago grown used to that unfortunate aspect of being her father’s only heir.
Well, until her new husband had sent her off to be murdered so thathecould become the heir, of course.
Ria and the kings barely noticed as Tes ducked out of the room. Since she had been granted a suite beside the nursery on the floor above, it was a bit of a walk to return to her son. Normally, she didn’t mind, but today, her every step was followed by curious eyes—the excessive number of guards, the maids cleaning the already spotless corridors, and even a handful of courtiers lingering outside of the shielded family area. All tracking her movements with avid attention.
It was only natural. Every single one of them wanted to be the first to hear if the babe had been born safely, so they watched Tes for any hint of news. She kept her expression on the pleasant side of neutral to avoid causing panic, but she ignored every questioning glance. The formal announcement would go out when the monarchs wished. Not a moment sooner.
There would be days—maybe even weeks—of celebration across the kingdom, that much was certain. Excitement had been building for months, and at this point, the average citizenwas so proud that their new queen was from the merchant class that even the nobles didn’t dare to speak poorly of Ria. That a commoner had been the one to carry the new heir? No one could compete with that kind of elation in the streets.
Fortunately, it was just before spring planting. The celebrations would have delayed it, otherwise, yet few would question the farmers’ enthusiasm. A royal heir hadn’t been born for centuries, and that inevitably increased the people’s unease over time. Now, stability was ensured, and the collective relief would pour out into countless festivals, even in the countryside.
Since Tes was King Ryenil’s only child, it would have been the same in Centoi when Speran had been born—yet another loss. But in this case, her grief was for her people, who’d deserved the same joyful festivities as those in Llyalia. The average citizen of Centoi had to be scared of the future with the exiled prince of another kingdom now set to take the throne.
She couldn’t allow it.
Tes entered the nursery, and the maid sitting beside Speran’s cradle shot to her feet. “Madam Ryssa! If you’re here, does that mean…?”
“I’ve been checking on my son through the entire process,” Tes replied, though she smiled to soften her words. “You’ll not trick me into speaking of the royal family’s private business.”
The maid flushed. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need for an apology. I understand the excitement.”
Tes reached the crib to find Speran blinking up at her with his honey-brown eyes, a shade somewhere between her light brown and Ber’s dark. But the whorls of hair atop their son’s head were purest black, just like his father’s, and his nose reminded her exactly of Ber’s. He would no doubt be handsome, too.
Despite everything, love filled her beyond bearing at the sight of her son. He was the most perfect being she’d ever seen, and she would do her best to raise him with honor. If she died trying to save Centoi from her silly mistakes, then Ria, Mehl, and Toren would see that he grew up well. It was the only thing shedidn’thave to worry about.
With an innocent smile, Speran lifted his chubby little arms, and Tes swept him up to cuddle against her chest. His sweet baby scent surrounded her as she settled into the rocking chair and unbuttoned the top of her dress. Though she had a nursemaid, Tes had resolved to feed him when she could for as long as she could.
Soon, she would resume training, and she wasn’t sure what that might do to her milk supply. But it would be just as well if she slowly dried up. Unless something changed, she would give herself six months to hone her bladework with King Mehl, who’d vowed to help her. Then she would have to leave Speran here and set off.
She had a no-good, miserable excuse of a treacherous husband to kill.
Not to mention a crown to reclaim and a people to liberate.
The dayhe’d received word of his son’s birth, Ber had wept.
In private, of course. No one in the Centoi court could be allowed to get a glimpse of his weakness, especially not now. Sure, he was supposed to be in mourning for his “dead” wife, but from the moment he’d received the news of her death, he’d had to be careful of any show of emotion. His position as heir in the wake of Tes’s passing was tenuous at best, no matter what KingRyenil believed, and he couldn’t give anyone a reason to remove him from the role.
Aside from that, Ber would have had no explanation for the intense outburst of emotion. No one here knew that Tes still lived, much less that she’d safely given birth to their child. It had to remain the deepest of secrets. So at the mental message from Toren, Ber had locked the door to his room and allowed himself an hour to cry—and rage—before he’d stuffed the pain down.
