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Though when she thought back to that dark early morning, what she remembered were the hours she’d thought her brother was dead.

Not exactly an emotional journey she wanted to revisit.

And besides, she found the actual job of being Queen fascinating. Not the outside view of the palace, the trappings of royalty, the cheering crowds. Those were the show.

But what she was learning to do in this in-between week at the end of the year was the work of running a kingdom, and most of it took place entirely backstage.

Cesca hadn’t felt this deeply engaged in what she was doing with her days since her days in the Latin Quarter in Paris, soaking in her classes at the Sorbonne and arguing about what she’d learned with her fellow students in the city’s famous cafés.

She realized all this on the morning of December 31, after Saviero had woken her up in what was quickly becoming her favorite fashion.

That being him thrusting into her before she was fully awake, so that by the time she remembered who she was, she was already shattering around him.

It had only been a few days—she kept having to remind herself of that—and yet her body seemed to have thrown itself over to him completely. Even the faintest stray thought about him made her more than ready.

She had never experienced anything like it before. She had never been so insatiable—or anything even close to insatiable, for that matter. She’d never walked around hungry all the time the way she did now.

Even though, sometimes, she got the impression that he was holding back. And that he was never quite as vulnerable as she felt.

Still, those were only passing thoughts. Because their private time was its own delight, and a perfect foil for the long and complicated things she did all day.

When she got up on New Year’s Eve morning, she took a long shower after Saviero went into his side of their wing to have his studious breakfast. When she was done, she went into her dressing rooms to start putting herself together for the day ahead.

She waited to feel bored. Or to find herself a bit less interested in a day filled with a packed schedule of meetings and appearances and more interviews. In these past few years, she was sure she’d been bored all the time and usually within hours of whatever new person, place, or thing she’d imagined would hold her attention.

It had been almost a full week now and she wasn’t bored at all.

It helped that her brother was available to consult with her. She had met his mistress before, years ago, though she hadn’t realized who the woman sent from an American art museum to handle a collection in the Royal Gallery was to Vesuvius back then. Over the course of this week, she’d discovered that she quite liked Aeryn Bridgers, who clearly adored Vesuvius.

And who had been fully prepared to raise her brother’s child by herself, off in America, because Vesuvius had insisted that he had to do his duty and honor his terrible betrothal to that harpy Sintia who had already tried to sell a sob story to the press.

Her brother looked happier than he had in years. In as long as Cesca could remember.

That was what mattered.

And he seemed not at all surprised that she had taken to her new duties so well.

“I remember how well you liked your time at the Sorbonne,” he said in one of their calls. “You didn’t exactly choose a fluffy, easy course of study, Cesca. I’ve always known that you had more in you than a party.”

“That’s so sweet,” she replied. And smiled innocently at him. “I never thought you had anything in you at all but royal proclamations, if I’m honest.”

“I look forward to critiquing yours, Your Majesty,” Vesuvius retorted.

There were so many moving parts to her new duties, she thought as she went over her agenda for the day with her secretary. There was a tremendous weight and heavy responsibility to every choice she made, and Cesca would have said she was ill-suited to carrying either.

But maybe it was because she hadn’t carried this kind of responsibility all of her life that she found she could lift it now. And walk a bit with it, too.

She even wondered if she might manage to do this without it all crashing down and crushing her, the way she knew it could. And too often did to people in her position. The history of the world was filled with leaders who could not handle the scope or cost of their duties.

It was also possible, she could admit to herself, that she hadn’t been doing it long enough to understand the toll it would take. That was more than possible—it was probable.

Cesca took it seriously, but she also enjoyed puzzling out solutions to thorny problems. She liked listening to the different, educated opinions of all of her advisers and ministers, then analyzing what each of them said—keeping in mind whatever biases they brought with them. And she liked putting all those things together to come up with a solution.

Usually a solution that surprised them, which amused her.

I have repeatedly promised the nation this week that I intend to be a breath of fresh air, she had told one of her generals yesterday after her suggestions regarding a military issue were met with stares. And silence.

Then a grudging… What if?