Ayda’s POV
“I think you should wait,” Nicolette was sitting on my bed, folding my clothes to pack away in my suitcase as I gathered Gus’ toys to put into my baby bag. She wore a white nightgown, curly hair—free of the confines of the regulation chignon—cascading around her shoulders in a most becoming way.
She stroked at a green summer gown I was fond of, one of the last presents I’d received from my family before my banishment. “It’s dark, and the driver has already gone home for the night.”
“I’ll be fine.”
We both knew that the moment I uttered those words, it was a lie, but what else could I say? The moment with the prince had pried open memories I’d rather have left behind at Emerald Lake. Of another Alpha from beyond my father’s mountains, of gunmetal gray hair and lurid eyes like Hephaestus’ flames.