"Please," the shadow said, his voice awkward and apologetic.

I was still rigid with fear when Conner stormed onto the balcony, slapping the shadow figure in the chest and slamming him against the wall. "Who the hell are you?" Conner demanded.

"Please!" the shadow repeated. "I'm so sorry! I was just getting some fresh air. This is a complete accident!" Suddenly, the voice clicked into place in my memory. "Conner!" I called, Rafe fussing in my arms, disturbed by the sudden shift in my demeanor and the fear—though I was calmer now. "Please—it's the Atalaxian Prince. I don't believe he means us any harm." Even though the idea seemed incongruous—an Atalaxian? Meaning no harm? Especially after my meeting with my uncle?—I knew the truth deep down. Conner didn't.

Conner glanced at me and backed away, removing his hand from the Prince's chest. "Should I escort him out, Luna?"

"No," I sighed, shaking my head. "Not unless he wants to go. The night air is for everyone. I can't hog it just because I'm the Queen." The Prince looked between Conner and me, stepping further into the light so I could see his pale features and his chic black suit. "I would… stay for a moment, if that's alright? Have a quiet word with you, so we don't end this evening on bad terms?"

"That's fine," I said quietly, pleased he would stay. I was terribly curious about him, perhaps despite myself.

"Would you mind," Conner said to the Prince, his voice tight, "if I performed a body check? To ensure you don't have…"

"Be my guest," the Prince said, spreading his arms wide and allowing Conner to pat him down.

When Conner stood up and nodded to me, his face serious, I nodded back and smiled, grateful for his protection. "I'll be just inside the door, Luna," Conner said.

"Thank you," I said sincerely, hoping he heard it. Conner nodded again and stood in the doorway, one foot in the ballroom, one on the balcony, a constant deterrent to Calvin should he make a wrong move.

"Protective of you," Calvin said, glancing at Conner and taking a few steps closer—not too close, but close enough for conversation. "As he should be. Your men are loyal."

"As loyal to me as I am to them," I said, shrugging and studying Calvin's face. I wondered how he'd blended so seamlessly into the shadows. Was it that dark? Or had I been so distracted that I'd missed him? Or was something else going on?

"Congratulations," Calvin said, bowing slightly. "The ceremony today was very moving, as was the vote. It's inspiring to see how much your people support you—the wolves and the humans both."

"Is it?" I asked, tilting my head. "Do you… not get this kind of support from your own people?"

"I'm afraid it's not a question we ask them," he said, sounding chagrined. "My father's policy is to… tell the people how they feel about the royal family. And then punish them if they show any evidence to the contrary."

I raised my eyebrows, genuinely surprised by his candor.

"I can't say I think this policy is wise," I murmured, wanting to shout that his father was a tyrant, but striving to be a diplomatic Queen.

"You can be harsher than that if you wish, Queen," Calvin said, smirking as he stepped closer, studying my face before looking at Rafe. "I certainly won't tell anyone." He paused, and I adjusted the baby so he could see my son better. A smile touched Calvin's face. "Your son is a very handsome boy," he said, smiling at Rafe. "I'm sure he'll grow to be a strong King, like his father."

"Thank you," I said quietly, looking proudly at Rafe. Then I looked up at Calvin, curious. He was young, my age—certainly younger than Sinclair—but, well, I was a parent, wasn't I?

"Do you have children of your own, Calvin?" I asked.

I was surprised when he nodded and smiled, meeting my gaze.

"Two," he said, his smile widening. "My Luna gave birth to our son a few months ago—he's just barely older than this one." I grinned, liking him even more now that I knew he was a father. There's something about that—the alliance between parents who love their children.

And damn it, even if I'd been determined to hate the Atalaxians… well, I couldn't hate all of them now, could I? Which, I suppose, is perhaps what the Prince wanted.

But something about what he'd said… something struck me as wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it.

"And your other child?" I asked.

"My daughter just turned three," he replied, smiling. "She… well, she makes me laugh more than I thought anyone ever could. She's a joy to me."

"That's wonderful," I said quietly, smiling at this surprising man. He seemed… like he could be a friend. "Dominic and I hope to give Rafe a little sister, to torture him a bit."

Calvin laughed, shaking his head. "No, little girls are always a gift. I'm sure Rafe will treasure her."

"Calvin," I said softly, taking another step closer, unable to hold back my words. "Considering your country's policies on women and girls—you have to realize that what you're saying comes as a surprise to me."

He nodded slowly, sighing. "Well, perhaps it's less of a surprise to you then," he said softly, glancing toward the door, "that the father of a very beloved daughter might want a stronger alliance with a nation that feels very differently about girls and their futures." I looked up at him, seeing true honesty in his eyes. I was about to promise him friendship when I realized… while Calvin had mentioned twice how much he loved his daughter and wanted more for her… he hadn't included her mother in that sentiment. And he'd referred to her not as his "mate," but as his "Luna." I frowned, confused, staring up at him.

"What?" Calvin asked, stepping closer, concerned by my concern. He reached out a hand, instinctively, I think, to touch my arm. As he leaned closer, his scent hit me—a wave of crisp winter, starlight on snow, frost, and bergamot—my nose tingled as it does when I sense snow. And something moved within me—not big enough to be truly real, but something remarkably like… a bond. A bond between me and this strange Prince.

As I stepped away, the Prince's eyes widened as he sensed it too.