Courtyard.Beneath the dappled shade of the courtyard arbor, Lady Ravena reclined with ease upon a cushioned chaise, a silver plate of honeyed figs and almond-stuffed dates set before her. Beside her sat Lady Valaria, heavy with child, her hands gently cradling the swell of her womb.Around them, handmaidens bustled softly, murmuring as they poured cooled rosewater and fanned their mistresses from the midday sun. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine and the hum of idle conversation.“I marvel at you, truly,” Ravena said at length, plucking a fig and bringing it to her lips. “bearing one before, and now again. Are you not wearied by it?”Valaria laughed softly, the sound weary but serene. “Such is the way of she-wolves,” she replied. “We are made to bear, to breed. It is how we secure our place in the eyes of the pack and the council.”Ravena arched a brow, her voice laced with a touch of mockery. “And yet, they still seek pleasure beyond their own hearths. Forgive me, but your h
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