The young maid

Trace held back a tide of emotion as he watched Anaisa approach him in the wake of the spoiled princess. The betrayal he felt was unwarranted; he was keeping a far bigger secret than this. Why did it sting him so badly? 

Her face pled with him for understanding, for patience. He held his tongue as the royal began shouting for steps to be brought for herself and her maid.

Her maid.

Trace remembered the token Anaisa had shown at the gate, that had frightened the guard so thoroughly. The pieces began falling into place as Trace reviewed the conversation with his wife from the day before. 

She'd mentioned the princess then, but he hadn't begun to suspect it was anything more than overhearing her during a fitting. 

How wrong he seemed to be.