The warmth of the moment had barely settled when the conversation took another turn—one that made Iva’s heartbeat stutter all over again.
Queen Rita delicately placed her teacup down, her elegant fingers resting against the porcelain as her gaze softened… yet sharpened with unmistakable intent.
“And have you two decided,” she began smoothly, her tone light but far from casual, “when you will hold your mating ceremony and acknowledge the bond publicly?”
The question dropped between them like a stone into still water.
Iva froze.
Completely.
Her breath caught, her spine stiffening as her mind went utterly blank, as if every coherent thought had been wiped clean in an instant.
Mating ceremony?
Public acknowledgment?
Her eyes widened slightly before instinctively—almost desperately—she
