"Why not?" Leroy asked.
He didn't know how he still had patience left in him. Then again, he was the kind of man who had waited ten years just to hear her voice. And now here she was…speaking… just not the words he longed for, but still speaking.
What was he supposed to do with this woman he loved more than his own breath?
The torch was behind her, its glow throwing the ancient throne into silhouette, its carved lines framing her head like some cruel crown. Shadows obscured her face, but he could feel her every tremor, every confused breath. Confusion he might never unravel.
Lorraine bowed her head. For the first time, doubt pierced her armor. Had she gone too far? Her father rotted in the bowels of her empire, and she could not let him free. His disappearance would stir questions, dangerous questions. If her identity surfaced… if the truth reached beyond these walls…
She couldn't risk her husband's life. The thought made her throat ache, made her want to weep.
