The Queen walked with rushed steps, her silk gown rustling softly against the marble floor.
She had checked the gardens first, expecting to find Iva resting on her favorite bench, enjoying the warm afternoon air. Nothing. She had checked the library, the study, the private sitting rooms where Iva often retreated to read or write letters. Nothing.
A flicker of unease had begun to form in the Queen's chest, a cold knot of worry that she couldn't quite explain. Iva was pregnant, yes, and she tired easily—but she was also responsible, always letting someone know where she was going. The fact that no one had seen her and the mind link that got cut between them. Plus, the mention of sending someone with tea… she never did…
The Queen made her way toward Iva's private chambers, her steps quick
