NINETY FOUR: The Queen’s Illness

"Get some rest."

Calix had ravished Kel until the early hours of the morning there in that tiny dressing room. 

When the sky outside grew gray with dawn's incoming sun rays, he wrapped her in his own cape and carried her to his bedroom.

"The maids will be here this afternoon to dress you," he continued, setting a tray filled with fruit and bread next to the bed. "Sleep until then."

What about you?

Kel almost asked, but her tongue was turned to lead with exhaustion. 

"At the very least, you'll have to attend the banquet tonight. Since you are now officially my consort."

The final words Kel heard as she drifted off to sleep were hazy.

Official consort?

That couldn't be right. The engagement ceremony had never been completed.

Instead, the Emperor had carried her away like a sack of potatoes, probably leaving quite an uproar in his wake.