chambers. Jaisyn and her sisters
retired to the private salon, which
overlooked the garden, off to the side
of the Great Hall. A maid brought in a
tray of scones and biscuits along with
a large pot of herbal tea. Ever since
she’d returned to Morden, Magda had
given a recipe to the cook, and had
ordered that the queen drink it early in
the morning as well as in the
afternoon. Jaisyn did not mind as it
was quite delicious, and it usually left
her feeling refreshed. She’d allowed
Isolde and Mathilda to taste it the first
time that she’d had it, and they’d
wanted their own cups. They didn’t
drink as much of it as she did, but
they usually joined her for cups in the
afternoon to sit around and be idle.
“Lady Calista is very pretty,”
Mathilda said after a sip of her tea.
She sat on a soft chair beside Isolde.
“Do you think she has a nickname as
well?”
Jaisyn willed herself not to roll her
eyes. Since the girl’s arrival in
Morden, she’d heard far too much of
Lady Calista. She lifted the silver cup
to her lips and drank, before reaching
for one of the sugary biscuits she so
liked.
Isolde responded and what she said
shocked her older sister. “I don’t think
she has any sort of nickname, Matty,
but if she does it is no doubt
something like the “Thorn of the
North.” I do not find her that pretty
anyway. Jaisyn is more beautiful and
so are you.”
Jaisyn coughed as a few biscuit
crumbs went down the wrong way,
and she blinked and stared at Isolde,
who batted her lashes innocently,
although a devilish smile played
around her lips. Had she been that
obvious in her dislike of the Lady
Calista that Isolde saw it? Had anyone
else noticed?
“Really?”
Mathilda, naively oblivious to the
real reason for Isolde’s biting answer,
stared at Jaisyn for a long period of
time, golden eyes assessing the
features that were common to her
sister. “Yes. You’re right, Isolde.
Jaisyn is much more beautiful.”
Isolde turned to stare at Mathilda
and burst into gales of contagious
laughter. Jaisyn shook her head and
followed suit as Mathilda seemed lost.
When they sobered, Isolde reached to
the tray and grabbed a scone.
“Jassy?” Jaisyn blinked and focused
on Isolde. “Do you know when we’ll
be returning to Lytheria? I know
we’re to spend the Season here but
Lady Mor’an said that the Season
lasts less than two months. Will we be
returning as soon as the Season
ends?”
Jaisyn did not know. Her husband
had barely borne her presence long
enough to tell her that her sisters were
to spend the Season with her.
“I will ask Vulcan,” she told Isolde,
secretly glad that she had a reason to
enter his study and make him speak to
her. Another thought occurred to her
as she stared into the green of her
sister’s eyes. “Are you not happy
here? Do you not feel welcome? Is it
the cold? It will become warmer soon,
or so I’m told.”
“No! No, I love it here. I loving
spending time with you,” Isolde
amended her words quickly, shaking
her cap-covered head. “I was only
curious.”
Jaisyn blinked and stared at Isolde
for long moments, eyes narrowing
when her sister seemed to fluster
under the attention.
Mathilda asked a question and she
turned to focus on her younger sister,
but still something nagged her about
Isolde’s question. What was her sister
not telling her?
Chapter 15
Vulcan had long since retired to his
chambers. He was not tired and with
his wife’s chambers adjoining his, he
was finding it hard not to think of her
beautiful body under his. He’d
avoided her for more than two weeks,
during which time he’d tried to quell
the anger he felt for stupid actions in
Lytheria. She could have been killed;
his unborn child could have been
killed. One of his warriors could have
fired a crossbow at her, thinking she
was a man helping a fugitive. Many
scenarios had entered his mind, all
with his wife being badly injured, or
worse, in her attempt to rescue her
undeserving friend.
Although seeing her angered him,
continually rousing these scenarios in
his mind, it had done nothing to
smother his desire for her. At
mealtimes, he would look on as she
charmed his stepmother and even
some of the stiff nobles who’d been
invited to dine at his castle. And then
there was Calista. Calista Dakar had
been pretty since she hit puberty, with
her pale skin, violet eyes, playful
personality, and slim figure. But she’d
come a long way from the pretty
twelve-year-old
who’d
once
attempted to be his shadow. Small
breasts had budded where none had
been before and her prettiness had
increased until she could be described
as nothing short of beautiful.
She served well to distract him from
his wife when they dined together.
Unlike Lady Savoy and a few of his
ex-mistresses,
Calista
was
an
innocent, in every sense the lady, who
had perfected her charms, no doubt in
hopes of snagging a husband. She had
been under his stepmother’s tutelage
since the death of her own mother,
and had been trained well by Lydia.
And so every day, he would try to
give his undivided attention to Calista,
which turned out to be harder than he
expected, with his wife seated directly
opposite him. The first night they’d
been back, she’d glared at him as he
conversed with Calista, but after then,
she barely seemed to pay him any
attention. For all the notice she gave
him, he could have been a very small
fly on the wall.
He, on the other hand, was finding
that it increasingly difficult to ignore
her. Especially when she laughed. He
would find himself staring at her lips.
Or when she turned to speak to one of
her sisters, he would stare at the
gracefully line of her neck.
Groaning, he tossed the covers off of
his hips and padded over to the
adjoining door. He was the king,
damn it! If he wanted his wife, he
could damn well take her and be done
with it.
Pushing the door inward, he stepped
into the room and immediately noticed
the stifling heat. The fire was blazing
high and he considered dousing it a
bit, before deciding that his wife must
have felt chilled this night. Heading
over to the bed, he looked through the
thin peach-colored curtains at his
sleeping wife. She was on her side,
facing him. The bed gown she wore
was red, with a burgundy wrapper
over it. He frowned and stared at the
thick covers that were thrown over
her body. Jaisyn didn’t wear wrappers
to bed.
He moved the curtain aside and sat
at the edge of her bed. The mattress
dipped, and she came awake instantly.
A slight cough escaped her lips as she
stared up at him, blinking the sleep
from her golden eyes. Recognition
dawned and her eyes widened.
“What do you want, my lord?” she
asked immediately, and her voice
sounded sleepy and more than a little
hostile.
“Are you ill?” he countered, staring
at the wrapper and the extra covers on
the bed before looking back to her
face.
Jaisyn sat up and glared at him
incredulously before hissing, “Why
should you care now? You haven’t
cared in over two weeks.” She pulled
the wrapper tightly around her body.
“I have not come here to argue,
wife. Just answer the question and
remember that I will always be
concerned over the well being of my
heir! Are you ill?”
He saw the hurt in her golden eyes
at his words but refused to make
amends. Her eyes hardened instantly.
“The child is fine,
liege
,” her voice
came soft but firm. Cold yellow eyes
glared at him. “You have received the
answer for your question and now
may leave my chambers.”
“Do not order me about, Jaisyn.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,
liege
. I am
but a woman in a kingdom ruled by
men and their whims.”
She spoke so politely that it came
across as sarcastic, and lifted her
brows when his face darkened in
anger.
“Why is it so warm? Why do you
have so many covers on your bed?”
Jaisyn looked to the fire before
gesturing to the throws on her bed. “I
did not know, liege, that it would
impoverish your kingdom if I used
more wood for my fire, and more furs
for my bed. I will have the furs
returned in the morning—”
“Are you trying purposely to goad
me, lady? I will ask you once more,
are you ill?”
A frosty smile appeared on her lips.
“And I have already answered, liege.
Your heir is fine.”
He
moved
quickly,
practically
lunging across the bed. Jaisyn gasped
when his arms closed around hers and
she was dragged closer to him. Her
legs were caught in the covers,
making it difficult for her to struggle.
His action had parted the slight
opening in her bed gown, revealing
the swell of her heaving breasts. The
sight made his groin ache. Jaisyn
began to twist in his arms.
“Have you tired of your mistress,
liege?” she said tightly. His eyes lifted
to hers in confusion but she continued.
“I noticed Lady Savoy no longer
comes to dine with us. Has her place
been filled by Lady Dakar?”
Vulcan was caught off guard by the
question and blinked rapidly at his
wife. It was not proper for a wife to
ask her husband about his mistress.
But Jaisyn was in no way a proper
wife. If she were, he would not still be
angry with her for dressing like an
assassin and helping a condemned
man escape. He would not tell her
that Lady Savoy had been sent from
the castle when she’d tried to sneak
into his bed chambers while his wife
had been missing. She’d thought that
with Jaisyn gone, she could seduce
Vulcan. It had been a fatal mistake,
which had found her running from his
room almost as soon as she entered,
and
surprised
when
she
was
subsequently ordered back to Eerie.
“Are you surprised, liege—?”
“Vulcan!” he snarled, his grasp
tightening on her shoulders. Jaisyn
glared at him before her smile
appeared once more.
“I am tired, liege. You may feel free
to go to whichever mistress pleases
you, for I do not want you.” Jaisyn
had begun speaking in a carefree
manner, but by the end of the
sentence, she was practically seething
in rage, and began struggling to
remove herself from his grasp.
“Stop moving before you hurt
yourself,” Vulcan bit out, his grip still
on her arms.
“But you care nothing of me,
Vulcan. As long as your heir still
breathes. Release me!”
Vulcan’s patience gave even more
and he found himself demanding
harshly, “You would prefer I take my
pleasure with a mistress rather than
come to your bed?”
Jaisyn froze in his arms and for a
small moment, he thought he saw
something else flicker in her eyes
before it was gone and she gave an
affirmative nod. “You are king, are
you not? Find another to share your
bed. You have already done your duty
to the Crown, as have I.”