“You are the crown prince. It was all a ruse.” “Not all of it.” His eyes darkened, shifting to that forest green as he took my arms, keeping me on my feet. Pulling me close and into his chest. “You have always been my queen.” My queen. How many times had he called me that? How many times had he referred to me as the Sparrow? Countless. He was the crown prince. Ramsey’s son. There was a reason Tillia didn’t bow to Zavier. Didn’t call him by a title. It wasn’t Zavier’s to claim.
