"I had thought the bridegroom would be here, your majesty," Westered said after another half-dozen introductions and the king smiled with faint uneasiness.

"He will be, my lord, at any moment now."

He turned and spoke to one of the pages, keeping his voice low. The boy darted from the room and returned a moment later. Robert's temper flared at the whispered message he brought.

"Tell him he will come and at this instant!"

His voice rang through the suddenly silent court as the page scurried to obey him. Rosalynde paled and moved closer to her father.

"He is strong willed, my son is," Robert said, forcing a smile. "He will make Lynaleigh a strong king one day."

"We will still have a wedding tomorrow, I trust, your majesty," Westered said with concern.

Can you die from lack of sleep?

Disentangling himself from the sheets, Ben struggled from bed. He glared at his bedside clock—4:15 AM. He rubbed his eyes that burned as if he’d used Visine laced with hydrochloric acid.

He paused to gaze for a moment at his wife’s peacefully sleeping form, then placed a single rose and a card on the nightstand, hoping it’d ease his missing their second anniversary today. Unfortunately the years hadn’t been the affectionate ones typically experienced by newlyweds. His employer forced him to work a minimum of sixty hours a week, each and every week—often far more.

He didn’t want to wake her, but he couldn’t resist running his hand over her slightly swollen belly. Her delicate frame had recently begun to show. Ben stooped to kiss her gently on the abdomen, and murmured, “I love you. Both.”