Reina's pov
The corridor outside the confinement wing still smelled faintly of iron and incense—blood and suppression herbs. They always burned those after his episodes, as if smoke could erase what he was.
Word traveled fast in the palace, especially when it concerned him. The moment I heard he had finished confinement, I knew I had to go. I didn't want others to reach him before I did.
I smiled to myself as I walked.
Earlier, when one of my discreet—and reliable—sources informed me that the king would be finishing his confinement today, I knew I had to come.
A man emerging from isolation needed reassurance. Comfort. Someone familiar to remind him of where he belonged and to reassure him everything will be alright.
I intended to be that person.
But as I passed the throne room, something made me slow my steps.
Girls were being ushered inside.
