Ophelia had resolved ot stay in Nevermere. Her brother had only recently come out of his illness. Akagai had no idea, of course, the severity of the king’s sickness (that Ophelia had kept to herself), but in any case she’d offered that she was needed here. Just a little while longer.

Just a while.

She smiled over breakfast, looking more like herself than she had in weeks. Having Cassian to care for had done her good. Built up her confidence, made her feel useful. Now, watching Akagi tear into his breakfast, she smiled lovingly and shook her head, looking much like she did when they were newlyweds.

“Well enough,” Ophelia said before neatly chewing a piece of sliced melon, “I always find it easier to sleep in the cold. Particularly when there’s one to huddle against for warmth.” She smiled playfully at him; a playfulness she hadn’t shown for some time.

Ophelia reached for his hand, taking it in hers. She loved him like this, not just for what he was but for how he made her feel. Like she had dropped into one of the bedtime stories that she hadn’t believed even as a child. That he was the prince charming, here to whisk her away. Reality was far more complicated, but it had its bright moments. Like this one.

“You’re welcome any time you like,” Ophelia squeezed his hand, “in fact, I might have to insist.” After a moment, she drew her hand back and started to work at her breakfast again. She knew this was the right time, but she couldn’t quite figure out how to broach the subject.

“I had an interesting conversation the other day. About our daughter.” She was still smiling, still looking playful.

Even though Ophelia’s heart hammered in her chest, she smiled. If there was ever a moment to float the idea, it was now. Now, when everything was so perfect—or at least, better than it had been for months. Shrugging a little, Ophelia continued to eat her breakfast nonchalantly.

“About the possibility of her betrothal to handsome young Cass.” It was a serious matter disguised as a playful tease.

Ophelia’s wide hazel eyes were soft as she gazed at her husband. She wished so desperately she felt the same attachment to their children that he did. That they could conjure up the same boundless, desperate love that she saw in Akagi. Ophelia’s love for her children had always been more theoretical.

“She’s a child, yes, but we have to start planning for that bright future of hers,” Ophelia kept her tone playful as she sipped her tea, “Lorelle will grow up alongside Cass. They’ll be married as friends, not strangers. One could do far worse than that.” Akagi was more generous of a husband than Ophelia could have hoped for, but she knew so many arranged marriages ended in tragedy. She had no doubt her brother would ensure Cass would grow into a man befitting his name.

Ophelia counted it a small victory. She had been convinced it was the right move, so that was enough reason to celebrate her husband’s agreement. But she was also glad to have been given a task by Cassian and completed it to satisfaction.

“I agree,” Ophelia said, happy to make a small concession. Lorelle was a tiresome child to be sure, so for selfish reasons, she was glad to defer the potential conflict for a later time. To kick the metaphorical can down the road.