Two weeks into the pregnancy, the palace had become unbearable.
Not because of the nausea. Not because of the cravings. Not even because the mages had installed cushioning spells on nearly every staircase and chair in the palace.
No.
The real problem was the investigation.
It had begun quietly at first. Damon had started asking questions over breakfast; Blake had begun making suspicious observations during training sessions; Gavin had developed a sudden interest in "bond interaction patterns," which was simply a polite way of saying he had started watching everyone closely whenever I entered a room.
By the end of the second week, the matter had escalated into a full royal inquiry.
Which was precisely how I found myself walking into the war chamber that afternoon and discovering eight princes standing around a table covered in parchment, diagrams, and notes.
Damon stood at the center of it all like a proud general overseeing a military campaign.
