9. Cole

I paused outside Henri's room, my hand raised, ready to knock.

But I froze and stepped away. I stood nibbling a nail before putting my ear to the door like a damned stalker. I was hoping to hear him walking around or humming or on the phone. Shifter hearing was supercharged, and I'd pick up sounds and movements humans couldn't.

Not that my husband was human. He wasn't making a sound, but if he was in there and awake, he'd hear me going back and forth to the door.

What if last night was too much, the festivities overwhelming, and he'd taken off back to his childhood home? I couldn't drag him back, but father's lawyers could negotiate a deal. Before discovering he was my mate, that had been my plan.

Not now, though. I didn't know what to do because last night and today and forever should have been my happy ever after.

I leaned on the door and sagged onto the floor. Putting my head in my hands, I closed my eyes and tried to block the world out. But I jerked up and leaped to my feet. Henri might already be at breakfast, bemoaning that I'd taken off.

Taking the stairs two at a time, sometimes three and almost missing the last step and breaking my neck, I charged into the family dining room. Papa would be eating in his suite, Father would be in his office or attending a meeting or cutting a ribbon somewhere, so the place was empty.

My bubble of hope was pricked and the weight of despair in my belly increased as I took a seat near the window. Instead of one of the staff bustling in with coffee just how I liked it, Molly did the honors, which was unusual.

"Is everyone having the day off after yesterday?"

The staff would have worked long into the night with only a skeleton staff on today. I mentally kicked myself I hadn't told the chef to forget about making me a hot breakfast. I didn't need a pile of pancakes plus my favorite garlic-and-herb sausages made right here in the palace kitchen.

And Molly should have been off duty. I'd caught glimpses of her last night but had been so preoccupied with my own problems, I hadn't considered how hard she was working. I needed to pay attention to other people more, especially the ones who worked at the palace.

"Many of them." She placed a frothy cappuccino in front of me, sprinkled with chocolate, just the way I liked it. I took a sip, deliberately making sure I gave myself a foamy mustache. Molly giggled because this was our little routine and had been for years since I'd begun to drink coffee.

Molly pulled up a chair opposite me and rested her chin on her hands. "Where's your husband? Sleeping in after a long night?" She pursed her lips rather than framing them into a smile.

"Not sure." I didn't meet her eyes but rather studied the cocoa powder wobbling atop the froth.

Molly sighed. "The word around the corridors is that you didn't share a room last night."

My head shot up. I should have expected this. There was no privacy in a palace with oodles of staff poking their nose into every nook and cranny. Molly's eyes shone with concern.

"You're the first to hear this." Even the king didn't know, and I saw no reason to inform him—yet. If he discovered Henri was my mate, he'd expect us to produce a passel of children and to be working seven days a week. With an arranged marriage, we had some leeway and expectations were lower. "But my husband is my fated mate."

Molly's mouth dropped, and she held up a hand before charging into the kitchen and returning with two more coffees and cake. I almost laughed because we always solved my problems with cake.

She pushed a large mug toward me and gulped a mouthful of her own brew before stuffing cake in her mouth. Once she'd swallowed, she said, "Spill."

In between gulps of piping-hot coffee and delicious sweet cake that offset the bitter coffee, I told her what had happened from the cathedral to the bedroom.

Molly didn't say anything until she'd finished her drink.

"This life is not like any other. You can't expect someone who has grown up as most people do, not having to think about the family's pedigree, the ceremonies, having servants choose your clothes, and people bowing at you, to adjust overnight. Mate or no mate."

"But I swear he hates me."

"Henri doesn't know you." She reached out and stroked my cheek. "You prepared for this life from the day you were born."

I supposed she was right. I didn't know anything else.

"Where is he? Do something nice for him."

"Like what?" My version of nice was a night at home, but Henri might like to party.

"If he's in his room, I'll bundle up some food while you go into the garden and get a bunch of flowers."

That wasn't the greatest idea. Last time I did that, Arnold, the head gardener shooed me out, saying I'd taken his prize orchid.

"Go and tell Arnold to help you."

Translated that meant babysitting me and glowering if I went near any flower I wasn't supposed to. But fifteen minutes later, I had a bunch of freshly cut flowers and a basket of food, including coffee, and I was at Henri's door.

This time I knocked, and a muffled voice told me to enter. I strode in, smiling broadly, but Henri was sitting on the sofa dabbing his cheeks. He turned away as I rushed over to him, his scent agitating my bear at being so close to our mate.

"Whatever the problem is, we'll fix it." I wanted to draw him into my arms, but we'd exchanged a handful of words since being declared man and husband. I placed a finger under his chin and lifted his head.

"How?" he sniffed.