"Mrs Crowe," Henry said. "I am sure you have had a busy day. Would you go to bed? I shall attend to Lady Livia tonight."
There were several things her expression said, the most obvious one being she did not believe he could attend to a cup of broth.
She curtsied once more. "As Your Majesty commands." She hurried out before either of them could change their minds.
Henry watched the door close behind her. He crossed quietly into the bedchamber. Livia lay exactly where she had promised to be: in bed, covers drawn to her chest, eyes closed, face arranged into a performance of sleep so determined that it deserved applause. She had even softened her breathing, though not enough. Henry could see the tension in her mouth. He could see the faint crease between her brows. He could see that she was listening to every step he took.
