Lina

The moment Hope whispers the truth, my heart stops.

Pregnant.

She doesn’t even have to say it aloud — I see it in her eyes, the way her fingers hover protectively over her stomach, trembling. And though neither of us understands how such a thing could be, I know one truth with absolute certainty.

The child she carries isn’t King Camille’s.

Which means it’s dangerous.

I pace the length of her chamber once, twice, mind racing. “You can’t tell anyone,” I say finally, voice low. “Not yet. Not until we know what to do.”

Hope nods weakly, her face pale. “I don’t even know what *this* is, Lina. But...