Madelyn turned at once—and stilled. It was the queen.
"Your Majesty," she said quickly, bowing. "I am. It is a lovely affair."
The queen's gaze was settled where hers had been. On the royal brothers. "I had suspected, joked about it even, but it is true. The prince is entirely smitten with you. And worse, he may very much not know it himself."
Madelyn blinked and blinked again. "Your Majesty, forgive me, but I believe you overthink."
"Or it is you who underthinks," the queen returned gently. "The prince cares for you—more than he has ever cared for any woman, myself included, and he cared for me. Now, he stands beside the king, the one person he exalts in the world, yet his gaze drifts occasionally, to you."
Madelyn's heart leapt against her ribs. Her eyes lifted, almost against her will, toward the raised dais.
Brand was indeed looking at her. Even at that distance, his mismatched eyes rested wholly upon her, unguarded. Possessive. Unmistakable.
