Chapter 30
THIRTY
TRISTAN
Something's different about her today.
I notice it the moment she steps into the garden. The way her gaze finds mine across the hedgerows and holds. She's looking at me like I'm a lock she's trying to pick.
I keep my posture neutral. Hands clasped behind my back. Every inch the disinterested guard. But my pulse betrays me as she approaches her usual plot, kneeling in the dirt with movements that seem…distracted.
She's not here for the flowers.
She's here for me.
Her eyes cut to my hands. Linger. Trail up to my jaw, my mouth, the line of my nose.
What are you looking for, Red?
I want to crouch beside her in the dirt and ask what's changed. What shifted behind those pale blue eyes between yesterday and now. But we're too exposed out here.
She keeps an eye on me as I make my rounds.
On her way out, she brushes past me. Close enough that her shoulder grazes my arm. Close enough that the scent of soil and lavender fills my lungs.
Reckless girl.
"Careful," I murmur without looking at her.
"Of what?"
That was fucking bold.
She doesn't wait for an answer. Just keeps walking, her hips swaying with a confidence I haven't seen since I arrived.
What the hell happened last night?
This might be one of my worst ideas to date.
Don't ask me why I'm standing outside the nursery—far from my assigned route and too close to Calder's office. If anyone catches me, I'll need a story. And I wanted to see my son isn't going to go over well.
Hale sits cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by wooden blocks he's arranged into something that might be a castle or a spaceship. His brow furrows with concentration. That same crease I get when I'm working through a problem.
He has my hands. Long fingers. Square palms.
Keira's mouth. Her button chin.
I still can't believe she gave him my name.
Even now, standing in the doorway of his nursery, the weight of it hasn't faded. She carried my child in secret, brought him into the world alone, and when it came time to name him…she chose me.
A piece of us she could keep without anyone knowing.
I don't deserve that kind of devotion. But I'm going to earn it.
I lean against the doorframe, keeping my distance. The nanny isn't here—probably on her evening break—and the room is quiet except for the soft clatter of blocks against hardwood.
"That's a good foundation."
Hale's head snaps up, and he stares at me with those wide gray eyes.
My eyes.
"You're one of the guards." Cautious but curious. Already assessing. I love that about him.
"I am."
"You're not supposed to be up here. Is my mommy okay?"
Smart kid. His first instinct is to check on her.
"She's fine. I'm just doing rounds. Checking in on things."
He considers this with the logic of a five-year-old. "Are you going to get in trouble?"
"Only if you tell someone."
A tiny smile tugs at his mouth. "I won't."
He returns to his blocks, but he's not ignoring me anymore. He's including me.
Glancing up every few seconds to see if I'm still watching, adjusting his structure like he wants my approval.
"It's a castle," he announces. "For keeping bad guys out."
"Looks sturdy."
"It needs to be." His hands pause on a block. "My…some castles aren't strong enough. That's what Father says."
I steady myself, breathing through the pain before it can reach my face.
"That's not true. The best castles aren't the ones with the thickest walls." I crouch, bringing myself closer to his level. "They're the ones with the smartest builders."
Hale looks up at me. "I'm smart. Mommy says so."
"I know you are."
The smile that breaks across his face is blinding. Full and unguarded and so purely him that it nearly knocks me off my feet.
I can't help but soak him in.
This tiny human who carries my name and my blood and has no idea I exist.
How is it possible I didn't know about you?
How did I lose five years of this?
You're mine. You don't know it yet, but you are. And I'm going to get you out of here. Give you the life you deserve. The life she deserves.
A shadow falls across the doorway.
I know who it is before I turn. Feel her presence like a shift in the air.
Keira stands in the hallway, watching us.
Her expression is unreadable, but her eyes are full of accusation.
I straighten. "Madame."
"Henri." My fake name sounds twisted coming out of her mouth. She's pissed. "I didn't expect to find you here."
"I was doing a sweep of the east wing. Heard a noise."
"A noise." She doesn't believe me. I can see it in the way her eyes move between me and our son.
"Mamma!" Hale scrambles to his feet and rushes toward her. She catches him easily, pulling him into her arms with a tenderness that makes me so fucking jealous.
I would do anything to hold them both right now.
"Hello, my love." She presses a kiss to his hair. "Did you eat dinner?"
"Most of it. The peas were gross."
"Peas are good for you."
"They're still gross."
She laughs so freely, and I feel lucky to be a bystander in this moment between them. I love watching her like this. Being a mother. Holding our child. Smoothing his hair. Whispering something that makes him giggle.
Then her eyes lift to meet mine over Hale's shoulder, and all the warmth vanishes.
"You should go. There are eyes everywhere in this house. You don't want to give anyone the wrong impression."
"And what impression would that be?"
"That you care about things you're not supposed to care about."
I'm running extremely low on self-preservation right now.
"Are you one of those things, madame?"
She draws in a breath. "Henri—"
I hold her gaze, letting the silence become its own kind of answer.
Then I decide this isn't how I want this conversation to go. Not here, and not with Hale watching.
I nod once and turn toward the door.
"You remind me of someone I used to know."
Her whisper stops me cold in my tracks.
I turn slowly to her, letting Keira search my face, like she's trying to peel back layers. Like she's already halfway to the truth and just needs one more piece.
"You should be careful," I say, meaning it as a warning.
"Maybe I'm tired of being careful."
Then she turns, heading toward the scattered blocks on the floor with Hale in her arms.
She's onto me.
If she hasn't figured it out yet, she will soon.
I need to be ready for it.
But watching them settle on the floor together, my son leaning into my woman like she's the only safe place in the world, I realize I don't want to play this game anymore.
I don't want to hide.
I want her to know.