Esme — POV
I'd been handling my duties from my room for two more days—until the doctor finally cleared me to return to training. I dressed quickly in high-waisted black pants, an ivory blouse, a cinching waist corset, and my belt, which kept my sword close and concealed.
King Liam stood nearby, wearing a black t-shirt and maroon fitted pants. The shirt clung to him like a second skin, tracing every curve of muscle and those broad, powerful shoulders. A part of me was actually glad to be back in training—because I'd get to see him again, outside the noise of duty and people. It almost felt like a secret date. I really need to stop reading so many romance novels.
"Good morning, Your Majesty. The training time is… unusual," I said quietly, noting the lack of training dummies around.
"Ethan works at this hour," I added in a whisper.
Liam sighed.
"Sorry I'm late," came a sudden voice. I gasped as Ethan appeared at the center of the field, moving so swiftly I barely saw him.
