12 June, 1369. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Celia pushed the book she'd given up trying to read, off her lap with frustration.
She was so bored.
No, scratch that. She was slowly going mad from idleness and it was only her third day of bed rest. How was she supposed to survive four more?
Much worse, how was she going to handle weeks of it for her eventual confinement? "Maybe by then I'll be so achy and tired by then that I'll be begging for my bed."
A girl could hope, couldn't she?
She looked around the pretty chamber she was now settled into. The sight of no longer being in the crown prince's apartments immediately lightened her mood.
I may be bored stiff, but at least I can be bored in peace. I don't have to worry about some little brute's mood swings or endure his attentions every night.