Page 52 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

Though I’ll never admit it.

Viridian pulls my nightgown over my head, adjusting it until my arms are through the sleeves and the skirt covers my body.

“Lie down,” he says, grabbing the edge of my blankets.

I fall back into the pillows. My eyelids droop, weighed down by drowsiness.

“I’m only doing this for me, not you,” I say. My voice is dulled by the fatigue pulling at the edges of my vision.

Viridian rolls his eyes with a soft chuckle. “I wouldn’t dare assume otherwise.”

He tugs the blankets over me and tucks them under my chin. My eyes close. I feel him linger, his face inches from mine.

I think he might kiss me.

I think I want him to.

But he doesn’t. His fingers graze my cheek, and he brushes my hair out of my face. Then he pulls away, the closeness of him replaced by a cool breeze.

The mattress groans when he stands. I just barely hear my chamber door open and close before sleep overtakes me.

Chapter Thirteen

My head kills.

I roll over when the morning light cuts through my window. It stings my eyes, jabbing my skull.

My ladies’ maids flow into my room. I groan.

“Good morning,” Tiffy chirps. Her expression tightens when she sees me. “Oh, Miss… You—shall we leave you?”

Yes, I want to say.

“We can tell His Highness that you’re unwell today,” Tiffy continues when I don’t respond.

“No,” I grumble, mustering the energy to sit up. If I stay in bed all day, Viridian will know that he was right about the wine. The thought of denying him that pleasure is enough to motivate me. “That won’t be necessary.”

Tiffy eyes me up and down. “Are you sure? You look dreadful, Miss.”

I press my lips together to stop myself from saying something rude. “Could you help me look less dreadful?”

“I’ll do my best,” she says, giving me another once-over.

I exhale. Perhaps I should have stayed in bed today.

Tiffy washes my face, braids my hair, and dresses me. When she finishes, she steps back.

“Much better,” she assures me. Her words are much too cheery and over-emphasized, that I know she’s only trying to make me feel better.

“Oh gods,” I mumble, wiping my face with both hands. “Still that bad?”

She winces. “Um, well, yes. But don’t worry,” she adds quickly, “with a day’s rest, you’ll be good as new!”

“Yes,” I say, purposefully avoiding the mirror. “You’re right.”

Perhaps a day’s rest and a little help from the gods themselves, I think dryly. My abdomen lurches. I feel as awful as I look.

Tiffy bows, and then she and the other ladies’ maids exit.

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