ADELE’S POV

I sat in the sun-drenched morning room with Queen Emilia, a half-finished cup of tea cooling between my hands.

Emilia looked radiant even in a simple linen dress, her hand resting protectively over the gentle swell of her belly. Pregnancy agreed with her; she glowed like the moon itself had settled under her skin.

She tilted her head, studying me with that knowing smile she always wore when she was about to poke at something tender. “So… tell me. How’s your relationship been with Lucien?”

I sighed, long and heavy, setting my cup down. The sound felt louder than it should have. “I can’t say we’re good yet....