Page 34 of Pregnant at the Palace Altar

Almostno one.

It would horrify her enough to keep her distance, surely. But could he risk the knowledge ever getting out? If it saved him this?

No, that would not go over well. He would simply have to be stronger. Compartmentalize better. He could play the role of dutiful husband and not feel anything. He would simply have to be careful. Besides, soon she would no doubt be too uncomfortable to share his bed. Then she would have the children and need time to recover.

He could keep himself apart, while giving her the image of a devoted husband. Because hewasdevoted, after a fashion. He did not want her miserable. She had previously been a kind of partner. Yes, by doing her job well, but also just by...being there. He’d even realized, after she’d left and he’d found himself with a strange emptiness in his chest, that he’d rather enjoyed her company.

And had missed it when she was no longer there.

For work-related things, of course, because what else could matter? What else was there beyond Kalyva? Nothing. So it had been a strange kind of freedom to be around someone who did notneedhim to behave a certain way. A perplexing pride had come from taking care of her in small ways, as she took care of him.

It could be that way again, if he was careful. Besides, she would be a wonderful mother, warm and giving. He dared not let himself think of her holding children—their children—in her arms lest he forget the real, important thing here: she would be a good enough mother that he would not need to be involved.

The needs of the kingdom came first.

There wasonlyKalyva. Not them.

If he could find a way to make her understand the necessary lines he had drawn, perhaps this could be that partnership she had wanted, that comforting companionship he’d lost when she’d left. And all without forgoing what they enjoyed in the bedroom together...

He scrubbed his hands over his face. Hadn’t he learned anything about temptation and Katerina? About fooling himself?

He heard the soft sounds of movement and straightened. But Katerina was closer than he’d assumed, because before he could rearrange his expression to be suitably opaque, her hand slid up his back and she came to stand beside him.

“Good morning,” she greeted, then yawned.

He did not allow himself to look at her. He could feel the satiny soft fabric of the flimsy nightgown she wore. It would be too much of a distraction when he was not yet on solid ground. “You should still be asleep.”

“It seems you don’t sleep at all.”

She had her arms wrapped around his shoulder, leaning into him like she belonged there. “What is bothering you?” she asked, like this was a normal occurrence. Waking up together married. Sharing a conversation.

Knowing each other well enough to see through whatever masks they put on.

She had always seen through him far too well, but it hadn’t seemed like such a threat when she was his assistant. It had seemed practical, as long as he did not give in to the attraction underneath it all.

And he hadn’t, until Zandra had returned. Until everything had been upended. All these months later, he still hadn’t rebuilt his defenses.

He was afraid that with Katerina by his side, he never would.

She gave him a little, encouraging squeeze. “You have carried the weight of everything since you were fourteen.Fourteen.No more than a boy.”

“It was old enough to rule the country.”

She tsked. “You were achild, regardless. Whether you want to accept that or not is no matter. You are a grown man now, and I don’t know why you shouldn’t share some of your burdens with your wife, who also happens to be the queen.”

He had once shared his burdens, his grief, with all the men who had promised to help him, to support him. He had shared with the people his father had trusted, and so he had, too, by default. He’d believed everyone had his and Kalyva’s best interests at heart, because he had been nothing but a black hole of grief.

And he had been taken advantage of. If he had not realized it when he did, his entire reign would have been a joke—and over long ago.

“Let us go to breakfast.”

She sighed, but she did not argue. She let him go, though not before rising to her toes and brushing a kiss across his cheek. It was just a little gesture of affection, the kind he was forever telling Lysias and Zandra to doin private.

As though she were simply...ignoring everything he’d ever told her about what this marriage was to be. He followed her back into the room, that churning anger born of a feeling he would not acknowledge was beginning to brew.

“I do not know what you are trying to do, Katerina.”

She pulled a robe on, then looked at him as if truly puzzled. “Do? I’m not trying todoanything, Diamandis. Except live my life and not torture myself with it.” Then she studied him and smiled. “Oh, that’s probably quite confusing for you.” She crossed over to him and suddenly he didn’t understand what was happening.

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