"Are you ready?" August asks as the driver steps out to open my door.
I give him a tired, amused look. "Not even a little bit," I say, half-laughing, half-sighing.
He chuckles, climbing out first and reaching for my hand. "Good, because same. But we can do this, alright?"
I nod, squeezing his fingers just once. "Yeah. We can."
The second my heels touch the ground outside the car, reality slams into me like cold water. The front gates of our mansion loom ahead, tall and unforgiving. The guards nod as we pass, the staff straighten up as if nothing ever happened, and for a brief second I wish I could rewind the last twenty-four hours and live it all over again.
We step inside. He goes left. I go right.
No words. Just a silent agreement to slip back into our roles. Him—the king. Me—the q
