Far too late

Rose held Marlowe's gaze steadily, her expression unreadable. "Save your taunts, cousin," she said evenly. "I have no need to trade petty barbs with you."

A flicker of surprise crossed Marlowe's features before his lips stretched into an oily grin. "My, my, have we finally learned some humility in our exile?" He tsked mockingly. "How the mighty have fallen."

Rose refused to rise to the bait, keeping her emotions firmly in check. "I have not fallen, Marlowe. Merely...reassessed my priorities." She rested a protective hand on her swollen belly. "My goals are my sole concern. The games, the power struggles? They mean nothing to me anymore."

Marlowe's brows knit together as he studied her carefully. For a moment, Rose could have sworn she detected a brief flash of respect in his eyes before it was quickly extinguished.