" After that, the only other possible time to tell her would've been the few seconds between the act of stripping off his boots and then falling downward, and he happily would've told her then, only his lips were smashed against the wooden slats of the floor before he could get the words out.
But he promised the king he would tell Jane, and a promise was a promise. So just before the world went dark, he said, against the floor, "Mah Lavy? I ammmm a horrrrfffff."
"Pardon me?" Jane's voice came from somewhere in the black clouds behind his lids.
He could not repeat himself. Besides, it wasn't his fault his wife couldn't understand plain English. "

― Cynthia Hand , My Lady Jane (The Lady Janies, #1)