Abigail appeared around the side of the screen, her wide smile faltering. "Is there a problem?"
"No," I said quickly, and both women relaxed. "But, please… you said he's struggling? Is that why we haven't seen him today? Why won't he come out tomorrow? What's going on?"
The women looked at each other, then Abigail turned to me, tugging me away from the screen while the seamstress fussed with some of the things.
"The King is… in a difficult place… personally," Abigail explained gently. "I believe he hopes you might provide some… comfort."
I blinked. Was she trying to tell me he was struggling so much over not having sex that he'd arranged a dirty night for us to be alone?
How did I feel about it if she was. "Okaaaaaay," I said, my heartrate climbing.
"Please, be very gentle with him," the seamstress said without looking up from the fabric she was fussing with. "He is a good man."
"I know," I said bluntly.
