The rain made a soft, pattering sound on the roof of her carriage as they moved through the Islian countryside, heading southeast. Celia heard her mother's words echoing in her head over and over.
The babe in the belly of a crown princess is always an heir.
You know what you have to do. Now go do it.
Her mother, who was the wisest, canniest woman that Celia knew. Who was like a cat that always landed on her feet, despite whatever tumbles she took.
But what she had been suggesting when she'd said that…
For once, Celia was glad for the rain. No one would expect a princess to travel on horseback in such weather and risk illness. As the Haviettenese retinue slowly drifted further and further from Magdaline Castle, she'd be confined within her gilded carriage, shielded from prying eyes by velvet curtains.