→ JUANA DE TRASTAMARA
IT WAS WRONG. It felt as if he were trespassing, a stranger meant to wander anywhere but there. A lifetime ago there was a stirring in his belly and a flush in his cheeks at the thought of seeing her. When he’d b u r s t through the doors of their chambers until nothing but fumbling hands and tangled torsos were illuminated in the candlelight. But that was long before ❝ ours ❞ turned into ❝ yours ❞ and ❝ mine. ❞
Her chambers were a sight Fernando convinced himself he’d never lay eyes on. Their stay was temporary, and the silent war that waged between them had no intention of ending. He leaned back against the deep oak of her bed frame, dark eyes falling on any object in the room besides her. For gazing at her dressed in a nightgown only brought back memories that haunted him like old ghosts.
❝ I suppose you’ve heard by now what they did. ❞ There wasn’t surprise in his tone, for anyone could have guessed what others were plotting behind the bastard prince’s back. ❝ We’re supposed to be enraged. But I can’t help but wish the poison would have killed him. It could have saved us the grief of this alliance. ❞