She settled in one of the two armchairs by the window. The curtains were drawn, hiding what was no doubt a lovely view of New York's skyline.
She needed all her wits about her and she never had that when she was in bed with this man.
Unsurprisingly, Tor only pulled on his silk knit boxers before taking the other chair.
The man had no issues with his own nudity. At least not when they were alone together. No doubt the shorts were in deference to her request not to have the discussion naked.
She appreciated his consideration.
His intense regard focused entirely on her, Tor waited in silence for Blythe to speak.
"I need to tell you two things," she told him quietly, having realized that only full disclosure would do. "Both could be deal breakers for that question you've implied you want to ask me."
Tor nodded. "I am listening, but I promise you there is nothing you could tell me that will change my opinion about it."
She wished she were as confident as he was. It would make telling him what she needed to so much easier. But despite years of hiding the truth and its consequence to them, Blythe was not a coward.
She licked her lips and then said, "Curing my leukemia when I was eight required both radiation and bone marrow transplant therapies."
"You have said."
"Those therapies can have lasting effects on the reproductive system." She twisted her hands together in her lap, tension crawling up her spine.
His brows drew together. "What are you trying to say?"
"You want children. I know you do." He loved his niece and nephews.
And he would be a wonderful father.
"And you do not?" he asked, still relaxed but paying close attention.
"I never used to think so."
"Because of your own dismal childhood."
"For the most part, yes."
"The other part?" he asked, like it mattered to him.
"Fear. Fear of having a child who could get sick like I did. Fear of not knowing how to be a good and loving mom."
"Are you still afraid?" he asked. "Because we both know that you would be an amazing mom."
He could have no idea how much those words hurt.
"It doesn't matter."
"Tell me why."
"The treatment that saved my life made it impossible for me to make or sustain the life of another in my body." There she'd said it. She'd told him the truth that had haunted her since realizing how much she wanted to make a life with her prince.
His brows narrowed, like he was thinking. "And this is why you believed we had no future?"
"Yes." Wasn't it obvious?
"But we never even talked about children."
"You're a prince, Tor. You are expected to provide heirs."