[Rynthall Estate – Night Before the Wedding]
Lucien stood in front of the gilded mirror in his bedroom, shirt hitched up just above his slightly rounded belly. He poked at it very gently. Then frowned.
"You better not try anything dramatic tomorrow," he muttered, staring at the soft swell. "I know you're only the size of a plum right now, but you feel like a stubborn little tangerine."
The belly, unsurprisingly, did not respond.
He sighed. "At least try not to puff up more overnight. I need to fit into my outfit without the corset threatening a diplomatic incident."
Just then, the bathroom door creaked open—and in walked Silas.
Dripping wet.
Towel low on hips.
Hair damp and messy in the kind of way that would've gotten Lucien arrested for public indecency had he tried it.
Lucien didn't even turn to look. "Please don't tell me you're planning to seduce me. I have indigestion and an emotional support cookie waiting for me."
