“What are you waiting for?”

The hushed whisper at her ear jolted her out of her thoughts. She flinched instinctively, startled by how close Benedetto had come. He inclined his head subtly toward the table.

Swallowing the lump of anxiety in her throat, Azzurra stepped forward, her movements tentative. She lowered herself into a chair two seats away from the King. It felt wrong somehow, like she was trespassing into sacred territory just by sitting at the same table as him. Her fingers ...