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“Damon,” she says, “Husband, I am sorry. The Feast of Surrus did not bless us. My moon blood has come. I do not carry your child.”

Damon feels a lump form in his throat. It hurts his heart to see Inez like this. With her hair down and her face pale, she looks so young. He gestures for her to sit down on his bed and puts his arms around her. She lets him hold her. She sobs on his shoulder.

“I am sorry,” she says again.

Damon strokes her hair. “Sweet wife, you have no reason to apologise to me.”

“But, Damon,” Inez pulls back from Damon’s arms and looks at him, “I am not carrying your child. I must bear you sons. You will have to cover me again.”

Damon nods. “I will try, wife. Perhaps if we found a way to be allowed to use another draught.”

Inez shakes her head. “Husband, I fear your use of a love draft is angering Zai. I have heard talk from my handmaidens that using such drafts prevents a seed being planted. I have even heard that some use the draft for just that reason.”

Damon swallows. “Then we will find another way.” He thinks a moment, but the solution seems obvious. “I fear I cannot cover you without the love draught. I am sorry, wife, I cannot rouse myself for you. But when we move to Felgrace, you must take a lover. A man you enjoy who will father our children. I cannot expect you to live as a Bride of Zai.”

Inez’s shock is clear in her voice. “You would sanction such a thing. Adultery is a crime against Zai.”

“Wife,” Damon says sweetly, “believe that I would not see it as a sin. And any child you birthed would be my son and heir to all I have. You know what I am. You know that I am sly. And you have kept that secret and preserved my honour and I can never truly repay that debt. But let me do this. Find a man who pleases you. Lie with him and we will have a family.”

“You would raise a bastard as your own son?”

“Gladly.”

Inez sniffs. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “And what of Zai?”

“What of Zai? If Zai is truly powerful, he made me what I am. He decided not to bless your womb.” Damon takes one of Inez’s hands. “Inez, I fear you must regret choosing me over Atticul. If you had married him you would be mother of the future Emperor by now.”

Inez shakes her head. “No,” she says, she sounds so sure. “No, I would not.”

Damon pushes back the wolfskin cover and linens on his bed. “Come. Lie here with me. Stay for the night.”

“Are you sure?”

Damon nods. Inez climbs into his bed.

Damon lies quietly with his wife in his arms, like a glimpse of a simpler life. She smells sweet, like almonds and faintly of her moon blood.

Softly, Inez says, “There is another way.”

“I cannot,” Damon says. “Please, wife, I wish there was another way I could honour you as you deserve.”

“You could bring him to our bed,” Inez says. “Your whore. We could all lie together and you could touch him while you cover me.”

Damon doesn’t know how he feels about such a suggestion. Would Lyr even agree? Damon thinks he might.

“I’m sorry,” Inez says, clearly taking Damon’s silence for offence. “I did not mean to suggest such a thing. It would be a great sin.”

“Please, dear Inez, you have nothing to apologise to me for.” He pauses. What he has with Lyr is so private. So deeply intense and desperately secret. But he wants to give Inez everything. He says, “Perhaps in Felgrace, we could try.”

Damon and Inez travel to the Rose Palace in a golden carriage sent from the Imperial Stables. Their belongings, attendants, servants and slaves follow in a series of wagons behind, Lyr amongst them. People stop and cheer as the carriage passes, calling the name of Damon Darekul, One Man Army, Saviour of Azuria.

Damon wears a red jerkin and red breeches, the colour of war and victory. Inez has a gown of red satin, embroidered with roses in silver and gold.

The Gala will be three days of feast and tournaments, with Damon’s Order of Azuria presented on the last.

They arrive in glory and are escorted to the Tower of the Heir.

Damon’s father, Prince Rafus is there to greet them in his wide, open parlour, a beautiful and comfortable room with settles and cushions and glittering curtains at windows that face west towards the Gleam and the mountains. Damon hasn’t seen his father since his wedding to Inez. He rarely leaves his main residence in the Ivory Palace to travel to the capital these days, but he is here to see his eldest son given the Order of Azuria.