The throne's armrest dug into my shoulder. I shifted, trying to look regal instead of asleep.
"Uhh… husband… play…?" Emelia tugged my sleeve, eyes bright, already losing the battle for patience.
"Can't," I murmured. "King is thinking important king thoughts."
She frowned. "Like… naps?"
"Especially naps."
Somewhere below the dais, a woman whispered far too loudly, "Look, the king must be thinking very deeply about us."
I felt my lip twitch.
A small voice followed. "Mom? Why are the king's lips moving?"
"Shhh!" The woman grabbed the boy's shoulder. "Don't talk about the king like that!"
They both dropped to a knee. "Please forgive my idiot child, Your Majesty."
I opened one eye and grinned at the boy as he was pulled away. He pointed back at me, scandalized. "Mom! He's smiling!"
She did not look back.
Behind the throne, curtains rustled. Aria stepped into view, one hand braced against her belly, the other smothering a laugh.
