Reene sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of her nightgown until it crumpled beneath her grip.
She didn't know how to feel. Her thoughts were a storm of conflicting emotions—torn between her sacred vows as a wife and the cruel reality of her place now… a concubine in all but name.
She was still Enzo's wife—bound to him before the Goddess and the Church. That truth had not changed.
But the palace didn't run on divine will. It thrived on power, politics, and survival. And she knew—deep down—that if she refused her role here, if she spurned Claude entirely, her privileges would be stripped, her standing reduced to dust.
And worse… her child would suffer.
Reene closed her eyes, a sharp ache blooming behind her ribcage.
Claude had treated her with respect. He had given her comfort, a sense of dignity in a place designed to take it away.
