"It's simple really. Talk to him. Tell him he will get to see her soon." Morvakar shrugged as if the problem of an inconsolable heir were no bigger than spilled wine on a tablecloth.
Luna's head whipped down toward Magnus instantly, her instincts flaring brighter than reason. She cradled her son closer, her lips brushing his fine dark curls as her voice turned tender. "Hey sweetie. I know how you feel. But mummy and daddy will bring you…"
"Not you, Your Highness." Morvakar's interruption cut through the room. His eyes flicked away from Luna and landed on Mabel. The woman sat stiffly at the edge of the bed, her rounded belly rising under the simple fabric of her battered gown, her entire posture radiating confusion.
