The only way a woman could lose her life because of a child was through childbirth—a risk every mother understood. But it was cruel and unjust to blame the child for it, let alone call him a demon.
Lady Maris steadied herself and stood up, smoothing her skirt and clearing her throat. "Does the child belong to Her Majesty, the Queen?" she asked.
Emmanuelle hesitated but finally nodded. "Yes, My Lady."
A wave of disbelief washed over Lady Maris. The Queen had conceived a child? It made no sense—there had been no public announcement of consummation between the King and Queen, no ceremony to mark such a significant event, as was tradition.
King Valentin had made a solemn vow to Lady Maris: he would never touch his wife. His heart had never belonged to her, and his loyalty would remain with the one he truly loved.
