Ella

Sinclair and I dress very formally that night, knowing that how we bid our farewell to the Atalaxian delegation is going to be something that we handle with a great deal of care, especially as we know that Calvin will be there. We even wear our crowns, hoping that they oblige the Atalaxians to see us as representatives of the state which they intend to destroy.

Rafe, unfortunately, has other ideas about his formality.

“Oh, god,” I sigh when he shrieks and pulls his tiny crown off for the third time. “Dominic, he won’t wear it

“So don’t make him,” Sinclair says with a grin, coming to stand close to me in our closet, putting his hand on my back and peering down at our son.

Honestly, he’s a baby -”

“He is the future King – “I huff as I slide Rafe’s crown around my wrist like a bracelet. “Without the crown he’s just our little baby meatball – ”

Sinclair laughs now, taking the baby from me and holding him high up in the air, making Rafe shriek with laughter. “Did you hear how your mommy talks about you, Rafe!?” Sinclair calls, pretending to be appalled. Rafe just giggles harder, delighted. “A future King, and she calls you a meatball!”

“He is,” I say, laughing and reaching for him. “He’s my little meatball, though,” I murmur, taking him back into my arms and leaning into my mate. “He’s just getting so big. And he’s very round.”

murmurs, leaning down to kiss me on the

I turn my mouth down at my baby. “You

that they’re stronger, then it kind of evens out. But

gasp, appalled and looking up at

love,” Sinclair murmurs, kissing my hair. “Our little pup needs

I sigh, turning to the room when Sinclair tugs me in that direction. “As soon as those show up,

to the door. But both of us grow serious as we pass through it, because

of war, and it doesn’t look like there’s anything

to get the Atalaxians to turn. Henry’s there, doing the same, though Cora and Roger opted out of this one. I can’t say I blame them – Sinclair told me on the ride to their house this morning that he’s asked Roger to take charge of the military, and I have to say – it’s

to go to war. Only Calvin, sitting across the table from us, looks towards us with any

mood to look favorably on anything that Calvin says or does. Every time the Prince visibly moves or breathes, Sinclair sends a growl his way. I keep having to put a hand on my mate’s knee, reminding him to

tonight,” I murmur

you kill a Prince out of the line of succession,” Sinclair mutters back, sounding tempted

think I have to do

Sinclair snaps,

serious,” I insist, looking up at him with clear eyes. Rafe, sleeping in my

the corner of the room, where Calvin is clearly

Not everyone would

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