did not look in his direction during the
meal.
Supper had been over for hours and
Vulcan was in his chambers, a
tankard of ale in his hand. He could
hear the movements from his wife’s
rooms as her ladies and maids walked
around and conversed. He waited until
there was an audible snap followed by
silence, before downing the ale and
heading for the connecting door.
Stepping through, he approached the
bed and easily parted the drapes that
fell from the canopies. Jaisyn was
lying on her side, her eyes closed. The
furs that covered her rose and fell
evenly. He awoke her as he had
countless times, with kisses that
usually heated her blood and drove
her to the brink of madness.
Instead, she lay still, limp, even as
she came awake on a sigh. Her eyes
remained closed, her eyelids holding
the creases of stubborn resistance.
Except for the rapid beating of her
heart, and the uneven rise and fall of
her chest as she took unsteady
breaths, she did not move. He pushed
the covers from her body and
continued
with
his
demanding
caresses, daring her to pretend she did
not enjoy his attentions.
Vulcan pushed his body from hers
and saw her eyes flutter open briefly
before she closed them once more.
He easily discarded his breeches
before pushing her bed gown up,
pulling her to a sitting position, and
tugging it over her head. Her eyes did
not open. Gently lowering her to the
bed, Vulcan covered his body with
hers, sucking and licking at the
delicate collarbone, soft breasts, the
flat stomach.
When he parted her thighs, she
whimpered, which caused him to lift
his head briefly, wondering if she’d
finally given up the pretense that she
was unaffected. She had not. Instead,
her arm was thrown over her eyes.
Vulcan lowered his head to her,
taking her pleasure bud between his
lips gently before sucking on it. She
squirmed under him but did not utter a
sound. He moved his tongue lower,
savoring the addictive taste of her as it
hit his tongue in a torrent of waves.
Her body began to shake, a violent
tremor that would have unlatched him
had he not wrapped strong arms
around her sleek thighs. A loud and
torturous cry escaped her lips and he
gave her one last lick before kissing
his way up her body.
“You are beautiful, wife,” he
murmured against the smooth and
fragrant valley of her breasts.
A cry, stopping almost as quickly as
it began, escaped her lips and he lifted
his head and looked at her face. What
he saw made him freeze. Her arm still
covered her eyes but tears glistened
along her cheeks. Had he hurt her?
He immediately pushed his body from
hers and gently moved her hand
away. Her eyes were still closed but
her lashes were wet and clumped
together.
“Jaisyn,” his voice was unsure as he
was. What he’d just done had been
done to her countless times since
she’d become his wife. Why was she
crying?
“Are you hurt?”
She shook her head and attempted
to roll onto her stomach to hide her
face from him.
He would not let her. Vulcan pulled
her against him, willing her to open
her eyes. When she did, he wished
that she hadn’t. Vulcan hated seeing
women cry. But to see Jaisyn’s tear-
stained face, to see the water that
surrounded the usually flashing gold of
her eyes, tore at his heart.
“What is it, Jaisyn? Are you in
pain?” He felt something snake along
his skin and moments passed before
he recognized it for what it was. It
was something that Vulcan of Morden
did not feel often: fear. “Tell me the
problem, Jaisyn. Are you ill? What
would have me do?”
They stared at each other for what
seemed like eternity: Jaisyn in tears,
Vulcan’s heart beating faster as he
thought of all of the illnesses that had
been affecting his people of late. Did
she have the cough? Or was it the
stomach illness some of his own
warriors had succumbed to?
“Leave me… just leave… please,”
she managed to murmur as she
avoided his eyes. Tightening his arms
around her, he scrutinized her face.
She did not seem to be in physical
pain. He eventually released his hold,
allowing her to roll away. Vulcan
continued to gaze at the outline of her
back before he pushed himself from
her bed and strode from the room.
***
It had been a week since Vulcan
visited her bed. Six nights. And during
that time, they’d barely said anything
to
each
other
except
formal
pleasantries. Vulcan seemed colder
than before and she remained distant.
The only person who seemed perkier
than usual was Lady Savoy, whose
name she’d found out only because
she wished to know who was seated
at her table.
Supper had consisted of Lady Savoy
laughing and talking with Vulcan, who
replied to on occasion but did not
deter her advances. As Jaisyn thought
back to their last night together, she
clenched her jaw and closed her eyes.
She’d known her husband would
come to her that night and had been
determined to lie still, unresponsive to
his touch. He’d made her respond,
even with the thoughts that he was
responsible
for
Stephen’s
death
running through her mind. It was then
that she’d recognized something: she
was falling in love with her husband.
She did not like him. In fact, she
found him most arrogant, cold, and
chauvinistic, but in spite of that, the
thought of Vulcan made her feel
warm, safe, protected and, at times
when he held her after they’d loved
each other, cherished.
But her husband did not love her
and she could not love him. Trapped
as she had been in his arms, feeling
the tremors of ecstasy leave her body,
confused as to and frustrated about
her feelings where he was concerned,
she had been unable to stop her tears.
She let out a sigh and focused on the
men training below her in the
courtyard.
Since her arrival at the castle, she’d
noticed the training was set to a very
specific schedule. The squires usually
practiced first, a handful of warriors
spread out amongst them to gauge
their mistakes and teach them
technique. They usually took up all of
an hour. Then came the regular
soldiers, those who were not as skilled
with the sword, a step above the
squires but not fit to defeat any
warrior in battle. A larger handful of
warriors
trained
amongst
them,
teaching them more intensely than
they had the squires. They trained for
an hour and a half, sometimes two
hours. Next came the soldiers who
were skilled with various weapons,
swords, hammers, daggers, whips,
flails, and others. Although they all
met at the same time, they practiced
separately, with the people who were
skilled in particular weapons grouped
together. At times, for sport, a soldier
skilled in the sword would challenge
one skilled with the hammer, and so
on.
She liked to be in her room when
that happened and was usually alerted
by the loud cheering in the courtyard.
She watched, feeling her blood rush
as she pictured herself down there.
Her need to wield her sword had
become so great that watching the
soldier’s practice had become a
necessity for Jaisyn within the last
week.
Finally, after the soldiers skilled with
one weapon, came the warriors,
battle-hardened men skilled in two
weapons or more, who practiced as if
they were intent on murdering each
other. She tried to watch them all but
her eyes were usually glued to her
husband. She recognized him by his
shield, which sported the crest of his
house, and the dark chain mail he
wore. She’d also come to know him
by his movements: raw power coupled
with brutal grace. The warriors were
currently practicing and she winced as
Vulcan’s sword landed with a loud
crash against the shield of another
warrior. She was surprised the warrior
was still standing after such a blow,
but was elated to see that not only
was he standing, but he reacted
quickly, pushing Vulcan back before
he was forced into defense mode once
more as her husband pressed forward.
An idea came to her mind and
Jaisyn spun quickly, looking about her
room. Anne and Jane were as they
usually were, reading and knitting,
respectively. Magda and Asha were
not in the room and she imagined that
they were probably shopping within
the city walls. Her idea would have to
wait until tomorrow, when she could
talk to her maids. She looked back to
Anne and Jane. They would need a
distraction. Perhaps she would send
them off to the city with a few of her
guards, and tell them to choose
whichever trinkets they liked. Yes.
She would send them off and her plan
would be set into motion. The first
smile she had worn in a week settled
upon her face. Anne looked up in time
to see it and beamed back at her
queen, perhaps happy that for the first
time in days, she seemed at ease.
Chapter 10
Jaisyn watched as the small party
containing the ladies Jane and Anne
headed from the castle gates, before
walking briskly back to her chambers.
She’d sent them on a shopping
excursion, at her expense. She
enjoyed the company of her two
ladies and would have done as she
had for them on any other occasion,
but today there was more behind it
As soon as she was in her room, her
eyes searched out Magda and Asha.
Magda was by the window, Asha by
the fireplace. Both of them looked
grim.
“Is everything ready?” The question
was directed to Magda, who had done
what she was about to do for Jaisyn
on numerous occasions. Still, they
were in a different kingdom, under a
different ruler, and she’d recognized
and accepted that the rules of Morden
were vastly different from those of
Lytheria. And even so, she could not
defy her queen.
“Yes, everything is ready, my
queen,” Madga replied with a little
frown.
Jaisyn walked over to her looking
glass and held both of her hands out.
Magda passed a glance to Asha and
she immediately walked over to her
liege and went to work. Later, Jaisyn
sat in a chair before that very looking
glass as Magda began to work on her
hair. After they were both finished,
Jaisyn smiled into the looking glass,
sent up a quick prayer to Lyria, and
headed from the room.
***
This day was unlike the days that
had passed before. Vulcan, along with
his most trusted generals, Tarkon
included, was to supervise all of the
groups that trained today. Two
Morden soldiers from Montak had
ridden through the night to relate the
news that a rebellion had started in a
Montak village and Morden soldiers
were being targeted. That news only
infuriated Vulcan more. His queen
was already driving him to the edge by
refusing to acknowledge his presence,
and now there was another rebellion
in Montak? He was left with one
option. He would gather the best of