𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 | 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐒

ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

I awaken to find myself alone, the morning sun careening through the glass windows of my bedroom. The morning doves coo out on the balcony, a birdsong that eases me deeper into the sheets. They smell vaguely of a thief who makes his appearances in the night, like a fresh evergreen pine mixed with my sweet vanilla. When I close my eyes again, I imagine him still next to me, wasting his precious morning away for an extra hour of sleep.

Waking up next to Tobin would be a dream that can never exist. As the sun's rays brush against my bare skin, I cripple under the reality of what's to come. Tomorrow, I will marry King Leighton. Our kingdoms will form an alliance, a bridge that will end the unrest in our lands.

Despite the matrimony of marriage, I will still deny Leighton what he covets most. An heir. The symptoms of pregnancy are lingering—the exhaustion, the late period, the need to pee all the time—but there's no guarantee that I am truly pregnant, at least not until I confirm with Elena. Yet, I cross my fingers that the signs will continue to show and that there's this little miracle from Tobin inside of me.

Before I can redress myself into a robe, my bedroom door flies open, nearly bouncing off the hinges. It's not often someone intrudes my space, not even my own father, and certainly not when I'm only dressed in a bedsheet.

Elena storms in, closing the door behind her. Her tawny hair remains in a mess atop her head, and those green eyes fill to the brim with fear.

Her jaw clenches, and she sucks in a sharp breath.

Something isn't right.

"Elena?" I question.

"You need to get up now," she whispers, her voice shaking as she nears the edge of my bed. "Your father is expecting you at the entrance to the dungeons."

I scowl, my brows knit together in confusion. "The dungeons?"

"Your father knows, Imogen," Elena sputters as she enters my closet. She tears a simple dress from the rack, tossing it in my direction. "And he's enraged, more so than Leighton."

I stand up, forcing myself into the dress to make myself look presentable. "What's going on?"

"Tobin tried to assassinate King Leighton last night and didn't succeed," she confesses. "Leighton's men caught him before he drove the sword to end his life. They seized him and chained him down in the dungeon—"

"Tobin?"

With the mere mention of his name, my world shatters.

No. Not my thief. He's supposed to be the best in the lands, a criminal uncaught by the royal knights. Tobin never mentioned a damn thing about attempting to assassinate Leighton, never let a thought of his scheme slide through even the most foolish of whispers. No, he couldn't have. Not now. Not before the wedding.

Not when I could very well be carrying his child.

"Tell me he's still alive," I hiss. Attempting to kill the king will certainly send him to the gallows for a public hanging. They'll mock him, scorn him, make him regret the day he decided to kill the king of Adorid. Any man that goes against any crown will meet the gates of death. "Elena, tell me he's alive."

"Tobin still lives," Elena confesses, "although there's a knife wedged into his thigh."

"What?"