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LEAH’S HEART FROZE AT MARCUS’S WORDS. She stayed under his comforter, completely still.
“Get. Dressed,” Catrina ordered, her voice low and harsh. “And have Leah get dressed. The three of us need to have a conversation right now.”
“Oh crap,” Leah whispered.
“Yeah, um, I mean ... she’s...” Marcus grappled for a response. Leah hadn’t gotten undressed, but Marcus was only in his boxers, and their level of clothedness probably didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things when Leah ought not to be there in the first place...
“Now,” Catrina repeated.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The door clicked closed, and Leah pulled back the comforter. They exchanged a panicked glance as he reached for pants and a shirt.
“Why is she even visiting this early?” Leah asked, grabbing her robe.
Marcus frowned, shaking his head. “No idea.”
“What are we going to say?” Leah’s heart pumped faster than she could come up with answers.
“We’re just going to have to tell her now...”
She hugged him, and a thousand scenarios raced through her mind. In five minutes’ time, she might be kicked out, homeless. She might be forbidden from being with Marcus, forced to raise their child alone. Possibly exiled again to the human world, permanently.
He gave her a quick kiss. “It’ll be fine. We were going to tell her today anyway, right?”
What world are you living in? Sitting down with Queen Catrina to break the news was a completely different thing than Leah being found in his bed, in direct defiance of the queen’s orders.
Marcus took Leah’s hand, and they stepped into the hallway together.
Queen Catrina was still in a silk nightgown, her long brown hair pinned up for curls. Her arms were crossed, and her expression was also cross. But instead of starting to lay into them, she remained silent, sizing them up.
“Well...” Marcus was the first to speak.
Catrina’s gaze snapped to Leah. “I don’t ask much of you. I have always given you choices. On your education, your therapy, what public appearances you make... And I’ve always tried to respect your choice to be together. I don’t ask much. But the rules were crystal clear—the expectations have never been muddy for the two of you.” She looked at Marcus. “Were the rules ever ambiguous?”
He swallowed. “No, ma’am.”
Catrina focused on Leah, expectant.
Leah gritted her teeth. Yes, Catrina had allowed her a level of autonomy, but she had plenty of rules surrounding Leah and how she should act, dress, talk, everything.
Ivy society wasn’t exceptionally prudish. Lots of people waited to have sex until they were married, but it didn’t mean there wasn’t also a decent chunk of the population that thought it was fine to live together unwed. Even Queen Kaylah had done that with her husband for two years before they’d wed, though their situation had been far from typical, and he hadn’t been capable of accidentally getting her pregnant...
“No, Your Majesty,” Leah answered, averting her gaze.
“That’s right. Crystal clear.” Pain and pleading were etched into her voice. “You have come so far with your public image. And now this.” She shook her head. “Here I thought: ‘Since I’m already awake, I’ll go check on Leah, because she hasn’t been feeling well.’ And then I was rewarded with this.”
Maybe she only knew that Leah had snuck into Marcus’s room, and didn’t know about the pregnancy part yet? Perhaps they should let this blow over before throwing that gem at her...
“We weren’t ... actually doing anything just now,” Leah said. “We were only talking.”
Catrina’s eyes narrowed. “Frankly, I don’t care to know what you were doing together last night. But I do know that ‘only talking’ doesn’t end with you getting pregnant.”
Yep. She knew. Marcus gripped Leah’s hand tighter.
Robyn had to have told Catrina. While the betrayal hurt, Leah wasn’t mad at her. She’d outright told Leah she wouldn’t lie to the queen.
“Where did it happen?” Catrina asked, no doubt wanting to know how many rules had been broken.
Leah and Marcus remained silent.
“Where—”
“Here, in the palace,” Marcus quietly answered.
Catrina pursed her lips. “I want names. Every servant or guard who knew you were sneaking around, disobeying orders.”
“No one knew,” Leah said.
Catrina cocked her head, clearly disbelieving. “Have you developed powers no one is familiar with? You can walk these halls without notice? When I’ve stationed chaperones? You’ve mastered invisibility now?”
“No,” Leah said wryly.
“Then how, pray tell, did you sneak around the palace without a servant catching you?”
Leah’s lips parted, but words failed to come for a moment. “I... We... The hidden passageways.”
Rolling her shoulders, Catrina again shook her head. “And how do you even know about those?”
“I told her,” Marcus lied.
“Really?” Catrina drawled. “As much as I love you, Marcus, I know you were never told about them. Only residents of the palace and those employed here are informed of their existence. They pose a security risk.”
“I’m a resident,” Leah countered. “Why wasn’t I told? What if there was a fire, and I needed to escape?”
“Then a servant would have helped you out of one of the many other exits or, if needed, through the passageways. So, I’m going to ask you again. How did you even discover them?”
“Well, I...” Leah took her hand back from Marcus, hugging herself.
“Like I said, Aunt Catrina—”
“My mom told me about them,” Leah confessed. “She told me my dad would sometimes sneak her into the palace before his parents warmed up to her.”
Catrina’s lip curled. “Not the best examples to be following. I shouldn’t have to point that out.”
Leah’s stomach knotted. No, that hadn’t been the wisest choice. Her mom had also escaped out those tunnels when the palace had been under attack the night her dad was captured.
“Did Robyn know you used the tunnels?” Catrina asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Leah said.
“It does. I need to know who on my staff I’m able to rely on. You may not have grown up in this realm, but you’ve had more than enough lessons to understand what security at this palace means. Your parents might not have been able to murder your grandparents had the staff been more loyal.
“And when it comes to the security of the position I hold, and the safety of my family, my children, the people I love,” Catrina’s voice grew louder, “then I will not hesitate to dismiss anyone who would put them at risk!”
Leah recoiled a bit at that, her heart numb. Leah wasn’t counted as a resident, or as a family member. Marcus was Catrina’s nephew, but Leah? She was just Catrina’s evil cousin’s daughter, her ward, the object of Catrina’s pity, her public relations project.
At this point, Leah knew in her heart she was homeless. But Robyn didn’t deserve more trouble for knowing Leah had used the passageways. “Robyn didn’t know. Don’t fire her.”
“And did any of the servants know you were using them? Robyn’s already been dismissed for lying to me.”
Leah’s jaw dropped. “What?! That’s not fair! She didn’t lie to you. She told you where I was this morning, right?”
“Yes, but a lie of omission is still a lie, and she knew where you’d snuck off to without doing a thing about it, without proactively informing me.”
“That’s... No! You can’t do that.” Robyn was nice, and competent, and had just been showing Leah some compassion in a time when she was freaked out.
Catrina rested her hands on her hips. “I can’t? I make the rules here.”
Leah clenched her jaw. She was used to a sweet and caring Catrina, and a sometimes-exhausted version of her in private with the young kids and too little sleep. She’d also witnessed the more regal Catrina at formal events and with important guests. Leah hadn’t yet seen this side—the true side of Catrina that had doubted Leah from the start, hidden under a mask of kindness.
“I will not ask again. Who else—” Catrina started.
“No one knew!” Leah shouted.
Catrina eyed her, then straightened. “I hope that’s true. Back to the topic of your pregnancy. Are you keeping the child?”
Marcus slid a hand onto Leah’s back. “Yes.”
“Alright. Then we’ll find time in my schedule today to discuss wedding details.”
Marcus kept quiet.
“We’re not planning a wedding right now,” Leah said.
Looking mildly surprised, Catrina tilted her head. “And why not?”
Leah swallowed. “All you care about is public image, and that’s already screwed now, isn’t it? If you rush a wedding, people will suspect. If people with half a brain can do math, they’ll know I’m already two weeks along. So why should I be forced into it before I’m ready?”
“Better to mitigate damage now than—”
A knock at the end of the corridor cut her off. The door popped open. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”
“I asked for privacy, Tain,” Catrina said.
“I know, my apologies. A high-priority memo arrived from that human ambassador.”
Catrina blew out a puff of air. “Thank you. I’ll be right out.”
She faced the couple. “We’ll continue this discussion later. Both of you properly dress, then see my aide to find out when we can schedule that.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” Leah said.
Catrina only stared back at her.
“Give us some time to sort it all out, Aunt Catrina. We just found out.”
“We don’t always have the luxury of time when it comes to damage control, Marcus.”
Leah needed to know where she stood in this mess, how far Catrina was willing to go if she’d fired her servant over such a small white lie. “Are you going to kick me out if I don’t marry him?”
“Would that motivate you?”
“No.” And it wouldn’t. Leah was far too stubborn for that.
“We’re going to take our time...” Marcus said. “But Leah and I are going to share a room from now on.”
They’d discussed asking for that, but now was hardly the right time to assert that, and apparently Catrina and Leah were of the same mind.
Catrina wasn’t accustomed to either of them breaking her rules, or standing up to her. Her exasperation wasn’t veiled in the slightest. “You don’t get to dictate what happens in my home, Marcus.”
Leah was tired of cowering, of apologizing, of lying, of feeling this way—all of it. It had been a mistake. Her pregnancy wouldn’t win her points in the public eye, but she still deserved a choice in the matter of her marital status. And Catrina ought not to be talking down to Marcus. Robyn shouldn’t have lost her job.
Heat rose in Leah’s cheeks and ears. “You don’t have to be a bitch about it!”
A barely audible gasp came from Marcus. Leah flinched out of habit, but she hadn’t needed to. Catrina could be strict, but she wasn’t the type to smack someone she was angry with, the way Cheryl had with Leah when she was younger.
But if looks could kill, Leah would be in a body bag.
“Watch how you address your queen. Both of you, get properly dressed.”
Leah choked down the lump in her throat. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Marcus echoed.
A hint of hurt flickered in Catrina’s expression. Leah had never once heard him address his aunt so formally in private.
Without another word, Catrina turned and strode down the corridor, opening the door. “Please escort Miss Eleana to her chambers discreetly.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
As the guard headed toward the couple, Marcus pulled Leah into a hug. “We’ll be okay,” he whispered.
She wished she could believe that.
“Please come with me, miss.”
Leah pressed her forehead to Marcus’s. “I love you.”
He cracked a tiny smile. “I love you too.”
“Miss...”
She let Marcus go, and followed the guard down the hallway.
Leah perched on the edge of her bed, hands in her lap. The morning could be going better. Why did this have to be so messy?
She’d been sent back to her room like a little kid to get dressed. Then she was supposed to wait around all day until Catrina could squeeze her in for a meeting to demand again that she marry Marcus?
Sounds delightful... But how much choice did she really have in the matter?
Leah went to her walk-in closet, deciding what to wear.
“Where’s my most revealing dress?” she asked herself. A ‘proper’ lady trying to improve her reputation should look sharp and not show too much skin. She’d disagreed with Catrina about her attire from day one.
As she surveyed the closet, an ache took hold of Leah’s heart. Too many of these dresses were ‘appropriate.’ There was nothing wrong with them, per se, but they weren’t Leah. When had she allowed herself to become that girl? Wearing what Catrina would like to the balls, just to avoid a disagreement. Simply going along with it to save time and energy.
Turning her back on the dresses, Leah returned to her bed. She tucked her knees up under her chin, and allowed herself to cry. Who even was she anymore?
Her past was a patchwork of mistakes and pain. Her new future—murky and uphill. Who she was in the present—a lie coated in manners and frills.
After wiping away her tears, she slowly approached the closet again, leaning in the doorway. She usually dressed based on the occasions of the day. Marcus’s romantic boat ride was out of the question now. The only things on the agenda as of right now were waiting around and lectures.
Leah’s wardrobe was stunning. She’d acquired so many pieces in her two years here. From the flowing cobalt blue ball gown, to the forest green drop-waist dress with intricate Ivy-style embroidery.
But none of it was truly hers.
Hadn’t Leah told Marcus two years ago that she’d never be the girl they wanted her to be? That she’d advocate for herself about what she wanted to wear, wanted to do, wanted to become?
Becoming a teenage bride wasn’t on her list. Being the palace puppet wasn’t either.
Leah didn’t want to wear any of these clothes; they’d been purchased and commissioned with Catrina’s money, with the taxes of the kingdom. But Leah couldn’t simply protest by staying in her pajamas against direct orders, or by streaking through the palace.
The smallest of smiles crossed her lips as she remembered her old friends. Crouching, Leah opened a drawer deep in the closet. Her old human-world clothes greeted her—the shirt and jeans she’d originally brought with her when she’d rifted into the Green Lands. She pulled them from the drawer, hugging them.
She hadn’t worn these clothes in ages, and who knew how long they’d fit before she outgrew them with her pregnancy.
One leg at a time, Leah put her jeans on, then tugged her t-shirt over her head. Each inch of fabric against her skin was an old friend reminding her of a time in her life when she was free from so much obligation and care.
“Are you ready, miss?” a servant called through the door.
Leah loosed a breath. No. “Just a moment.”
She stood in front of the gilded mirror, smoothing the creases in her shirt. Her hand glided to her stomach, and she almost cried again. She loved Marcus. An accidental pregnancy wouldn’t change that, but she wasn’t ready to just hop to the next step right now.
And something deep within her was wrong, something she couldn’t explain, didn’t understand, couldn’t yet grasp.
A part of her faltered as her bright green eyes stared back at her. She’d run away from home before.
And she could do it again.
Leah glanced around her chambers. The room was beautiful, ornate, decorated with the few personalized touches she’d been allowed. How could something this bright be such a stifling prison?
Run. Run. Run, the voices in her head told her. Get out.
She was used to burning her bridges. She was used to having a reputation. She could weather those storms again.
How desperately she wanted to sneak into the passageways, to find her way out of the palace, to disappear forever. Just a girl. Just a girl with a child. Not Soren and Beata’s daughter. Not Matron Kaylah’s niece. Not Marcus’s girlfriend.
Marcus. He was the only reason she paused. That, and the fact that she now would likely have someone keeping an eye on her every moment she wasn’t in her chambers or the restroom.
But she needed to leave. Maybe for a week, as a palate cleanser, giving herself more time to process her situation.
Leah quickly set to work, scouring her drawers and shelves. What if she did leave? What if she and Marcus left? Just for a little while... Leah would only take her belongings. But what actually belonged to her? If Catrina had her searched, would a birthday gift from the queen and king somehow incriminate her as a thief? Because they’d decide it was theirs? She longed to pocket her throwing knives from Marcus, but marching angrily around the palace with them didn’t seem like the wisest thing to do. Catrina would probably think she was taking after her parents and planning a coup. What about other gifts from Marcus?
Leah shook her head. She itched to get out of here, to keep things simple. She yearned for freedom.
She grabbed only one thing, tucking it into her sock and covering it with her jeans—her unused passport with a fake human-world ID tucked inside.
The servant knocked on her door.
“I’m coming,” Leah replied. She took one last look at her room. At the room. It wasn’t hers anymore.
It never really had been.