Anne had been cloistered in her beautiful guest suite for what felt like an eternity, her thoughts a chaotic storm of fear and uncertainty. She had been left in this gilded cage to wait, and the waiting was a special kind of torture. Augusta had gone out to make sure her plans are going well.
"What did you say?" Philip asked, his voice a low, dangerous murmur that cut through the silence. He had been listening to her frantic explanation of her new plan, but had stopped her when she finally confessed the real, terrifying reason for her desperation.
Anne took a shaky breath, her hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. This was it. The moment her entire future hinged upon. "It is exactly what you heard, Your Grace," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "I am with child."
