It happened a few days after my visit to Ethan's grave.
The palace had grown lively again since the queens arrived, and every hallway seemed to carry new conversations, new laughter, and occasionally new chaos. Servants moved faster, guards stood straighter, and the princes—despite their usual confidence—seemed oddly attentive whenever their mothers appeared nearby.
I had decided to avoid most of it.
That afternoon I was walking slowly through the garden paths, wrapped in a warm cloak while the winter air brushed against my face. My body had grown heavier in the fourth month, and long walks had become the only way to keep myself from feeling restless inside the palace walls.
The gardens were quieter than usual, which suited me just fine.
Until I heard laughter.
Not polite court laughter.
Real laughter.
Curious, I followed the sound until the path opened toward the marble fountain in the center of the winter garden.
And there they were.
Jaxon and his mother.
