3 April, 1349. Magdaline Castle, Islia
Lord, her back ached. So did the muscles low in her belly and in the joints of her hips. All Violet had wanted was to stay back in her apartments that evening. She just wanted to let her swollen, aching body rest on her soft feather bed.
It wasn't to be. Leo had coaxed her into joining that evening's banquet. Well, it had been less coaxing and more wheedling and bullying her into it. He'd complained it would be a terrible look if Islia's new princess wasn't at a dinner to celebrate a foreign diplomatic visit.
A Moraigthian prince was visiting the court, having arrived the previous day. Violet had stubbornly refused to attend that banquet, complaining she was too tired and uncomfortable.
Leo wasn't going to accept that same excuse for two nights in a row. He'd insisted his parents would be furious if Violet didn't attend.