The King's Inamorata (A Queen's Tale #1)

What Remains Unsaid

*Chapter Three Remastered*

Hello everyone! From now on, this novel is undergoing edits. At the top of every chapter, if you see the little stars that means that this part of the novel has been remastered. It will NOT always be faithful to the original. In addition to grammatical edits, there will also be revisions regarding plots, characters, and locations to make this a neater and more coherent story to follow. The blurb has also been remastered. All original chapters will be LOCATED AT THE VERY BOTTOM in case you want to compare changes or reread anything! Thank you so much for your love and support and I hope you enjoy  What Remains Unsaid Remastered!

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Tomas's hearty laughter filled her small cottage early on Tuesday morning.

He greeted her with a hug and kiss on her forehead and even though he'd just emerged from the blistering cold his callused hands were warm as he touched her cheek. Gentle brown eyes framed by wavy dark hair the same color as his skin, Tomas looked like a typical southern Novenan man. He walked into her kitchen and put a basket down on the table. She spotted two jars of milk, a box of eggs, and a few other things hidden under the thick brown cloth he'd thrown over the top.

As he situated himself in the kitchen she kept peaking up at the loft, hoping that Tomas would not have the sudden desire to visit the second floor. She'd slipped something into Luc's tea earlier so that he would sleep right through Tomas's visit.

Hopefully.

"Vivia."

She spun around. "Hm—?" Tomas extended his hands to her and she gasped. "Pomegranates?"

He chuckled deeply.

"How on earth did you get these?"

Tomas pinched her cheek before going into one of the cabinets for an empty glass to pour himself water. "One of the merchants I work with owed me a favor. He had those imported."

Pomegranates were her favorite and such a rare treat, especially in Canta. They had to be imported and the nearest seaport was days away. She grabbed a knife from the drawer and started to cut into it. The juice stained her fingertips pink.

"Have you been checking on the winter crops?"

"Of course."

"The garlic?" he inquired. "Onions? Carrots?"

"Yes, Papa—"

"Because last year when you forgot to pay attention to the spring onions we took a financial loss. We can't afford that again this year."

She nodded firmly. "Yes, Papa I know. I promise I'm keeping an eye on everything. I have to start pulling out dead weeds in a few weeks to make room for the spring crops."

"And what about—?" He paused. Looked up at the ceiling. "Is there someone here?"

Her heart stopped. "What?"

Tomas squinted as he stared at something across the room. She followed his line of sight. "Whose boots are those?"

"No one's," she declared quickly. "They're mine."

There was a thump upstairs.

They both looked up.

"Is someone in your room?"

"No."

Tomas raised a brow at her before sliding off his stool and making his way toward the stairs. Vivia ran and beat him to it. "It's no one it's Agna."