ARTHUR'S POV.
The doctor stood beside Ava, his fingers pressed lightly against her wrist. His face was calm, unreadable, as he listened to her heartbeat. I sat in the chair beside her bed, watching his every move.
“She just needs rest,” the doctor finally said, straightening.
I let out a slow breath. “And when is she due?”
He adjusted his glasses and scribbled something in his notebook. “A few days, maybe less, the baby will come when it’s time.”
I swallowed hard. A few days. That was all the time I had left.
Ava turned her head toward me, her brows furrowed in concern. “Arthur?”
I turned to her.
“Are you okay?” she frowned.
I forced a small smile. “I’m fine.”
The doctor nodded to her. “Just rest. No stress, no unnecessary movement. You need your strength.”
She sighed. “I understand.”
I barely listened as he packed up his bag and left the room. My mind was elsewhere, the Queen’s people hiding in the shadows, and Oliver waiting for his chance to strike. I wouldn’t be able to stop th
