Page 153 of A Dance of Shadows

The medic who handed me my daughter pats my shoulder in a way that sends a pang of homesickness through me. What I wouldn’t give to have my own mother here to guide me.

“We’ll be ready as you require,” the medic says. “Call out to your guards, and they’ll summon us in a moment.”

One by one, medics and maids file from the room. The door thumps shut with the click of the lock, leaving us blessedly alone.

Sprite leaps onto the bed but seems to realize it’s no good competing with the newcomer. She curls up against my back and starts to purr.

My eyes slide shut, but I don’t fall asleep fast enough to miss the faint hiss of the secret panel sliding open.

Bastien’s voice reaches me, hushed and tentative but eager. “Aurelia?”

My heart skips giddily. I lift my head to see all three of my princes stepping into the room from the hidden passage.

A smile tugs my lips wide. “I’m all right. She’s all right. She’s perfect.”

They gather at the side of the bed I’m facing. Even Raul holds himself ever so carefully to avoid disturbing our baby. A warm glow of affection spreads through my chest.

It’s Bastien who gazes at our daughter most avidly. She’s his on a different level from the others, after all.

He extends his hand as if to touch her and then curls his fingers into his palm. Awe fills his hushed tone. “Somehow I didn’t imagine just how small she’d be. I guess I’ve never seen a newborn before, only babies at least a few months old.”

“She might be a little smaller than most because she came a few weeks early. But the medics said they couldn’t detect any reason for concern. I gather a little early is not that unusual.”

Gods smite Linus—if he’d succeeded in delaying our travels as much as he clearly hoped to, I’d have given birth in the carriage with only the one medic who traveled with us and whoever we could summon from the nearby towns.

He’d probably havelikedseeing me suffer like that.

Has he already heard about the birth? How long do I have until he comes to see his supposed heir?

The stutter of my pulse drives away most of my joy. I ease into a sitting position, keeping one hand on the baby’s back to steady her. “Where’s the reinforced undershirt? I was wearing it when I returned to the room. I should put it back on… Just in case.”

The pleased light vanishes from Raul’s face with his understanding of my fears. He prowls through the room and snatches up the garment from amid my crumpled clothes that the maids haven’t yet tidied from one of the chairs. “Here.”

I pull the garment over my thin blouse, confirming that the material leaves enough give for me to offer my breasts as my daughter needs them. My gaze veers to the belt resting on one of my trunks. “And my knife. I’ll put it under the other pillow so it’s close at hand.”

My body still aches enough that I’m not sure I could dash across the room with any kind of haste.

As Lorenzo hurries to retrieve the weapon, a frown darkens Bastien’s face. “Do you think Linus is going to try somethingnow? With so many people watching over you… Is he that mad?”

My throat constricts like the ghost of a hand clamping around it. “I don’t know, but I’d rather not take the chance. Marc’s absence might divert him for a while… or it might provoke him.”

Raul’s shoulders flex with reined-in might. “We’ll keep an eye on him. Everyone in the palace is too excited about the arrival of his heir to pay much attention to what we’re doing. And your guards will know if he tries to hurt you in here.”

They might, but that doesn’t mean they’ll intervene. Linus could order their execution far more easily than mine. No one stopped him from smacking me around or dislocating my shoulder the one time he resorted to violence in the past.

Tackling a problem swiftly and efficiently isn’t really his style, though. He’s always preferred prolonged torment.

“I’ll think on what we can do about him,” I say. “The sooner the better.”

Which means I have to figure out what we’re going to do with Marc too.

At the thought of sending the princes off to murder the other twin like a sheep taken to slaughter, my stomach turns. I don’t know what the answer is, but I barely know which way is up or down right now.

Perhaps after I sleep, it’ll all seem clearer.

“Take some water to Marc,” I add. “I’ll think about him too. We’ll decide later in the morning.”

Raul’s mouth twists, but when I ease back down next to our daughter, his expression softens. We all watch her little arm twitch at her side, her dainty lips part with the tiniest of sighs.

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