Lucille

Once Queen Anne and I were on the grand staircase, I spoke softly, “May I ask about the Borinkian princess?”

“It isn’t good for you to concentrate on her. Think about your child.”

“It goes without saying that I am. I’d like to speak with her.” Perhaps if I obtained the queen’s permission, Roman wouldn’t see my behavior the same way he saw my trip to the infirmary. It wasn’t that I hated Roman’s ...