but she felt no pain inflicted from his words. She bowed her head and pretended to be immersed in her work.
“Does this news trouble you, Princess Illianah?”
“Yes, greatly,” she lied. “You are distressing my father and his kingdom, therefore you are distressing me.”
“But of course,” he said. “Then why do you still smile?”
“I do no such thing.” She tried her best to force her mouth to frown, but it seemed to have no connection with her will.
Donovan pursed his lips, as if he were trying to keep from smiling as well. His eyes studied her carefully, as if he thought staring at her long enough would gain him entrance to her thoughts. Her heart fluttered within her chest like a giant butterfly trying to take flight. She was certain he saw her inhale deep enough to try and squash the butterfly. “Perhaps you smile because you are thrilled that you will have time to finish your needlepoint.”
“Exactly. I never like to leave something unfinished.” She regretted the words once they passed from her lips. She should have said “leave a project unfinished,” but the way she had worded it was full of implications.
When he smiled, his eyes were kind with understanding, causing her cheeks to warm with embarrassment.
She broke eye contact and went back to her work. Before long, she stole a glance at him. He was again reading, a content smile upon his face. It may well have mirrored the expression on her face, as she felt entirely peaceful—and daresay happy—sitting here with Donovan.
The king entered the room. “Montague says you have the letters from the border.”
“Yes. Here, father. It is good news. We have been blessed.”
Donovan gave the parchments to the king. As he reviewed them, he let out several pleased grunts. “It is very well,” he agreed. He handed the parchments back to Donovan, and then the king turned toward Illianah. She began to stand to address the king, but he held his hand up to stop her. Then his eyes caught sight of the tapestry. His brows furrowed. He looked from her to the prince, and then back again.
“I am sorry,” she began, “Don … Prince Henrick thought perhaps I could complete this for the queen. I mean no offense, nor disrespect.”
“Illianah needed something to pass the time,” Donovan explained.
“A word, please,” the king said to his son. They nodded at Illianah and left the room, but they did not go far; she could hear their voices coming from the nearby passageway. She held perfectly still and listened. “Too comfortable,” the king said.
Donovan’s reply was inaudible.
“You were sitting together like an old married couple.” The king’s voice grew angrier and louder.
“We were merely enjoying a moment.” The prince’s voice increased in volume and irritation as well.
“You trusted her with my beloved’s needlepoint.”
“Why would I not? Mother would have approved.”
“She is our enemy! You have given our family tapestry to the very woman with whom we are at war.”
“We are not at war with Illianah. We are at war with her father. He is our enemy. Burchess is our enemy. Not her.”
“You forget something, Henrick. She is married. That alone should make her your enemy. She now is a part of the kingdom of Liksland, also our enemy. You are playing a dangerous game, my son. A game where there will be no winner.”
There was no response from Donovan; the silence in the passageway made her think that the two Henricks had left. But then the prince entered the solar and collected his parchments. Illianah tried to look consumed by her work, hoping he would not realize that she had overheard.
“My Lady,” he said with a bow in her direction. He was leaving her, without even acknowledging that beautiful harmony they had so recently shared.
“I am sorry if I upset the king. I meant no offense,” she said.
“No, it is not you who has upset him.” Donovan’s eyes were no longer happy: they were again cold and hard like
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