was sure to give.
“Varian, you are young and a
prince! There is no need to rush into
marriage. You will always have
women who wish to take you unto
husband—”
“I have made up my mind, Mother. I
will have Isolde for my wife.” His
voice had dropped and the gentle tone
he’d used had disappeared. He
offered no room for argument.
Sighing and shaking her head, Lydia
approached him and laid her hand
against the top of his head. She began
to slowly push his hair away from his
face, something she’d enjoyed doing
when he was younger, before a little
smile touched her lips.
“Isolde is but eighteen, my son, and
a
Lytherian
woman.”
Lydia
backtracked when that earned her a
glare. “What I am saying is that Isolde
may grow older, only to realize that
you are not what she wanted in life.
She is still young, and accustomed to
the ways of her kingdom.” She
dropped her voice and moved away,
giving him her back. “She may grow
to hate you for trapping her into
marriage.”
Varian stared at his mother and
thought of that. Isolde was eighteen,
and most women were married by the
time they turned that age. Still, she
was an innocent, quite inexperienced
in the ways of men and women.
Would she grow to hate him for
trapping her, as his mother foresaw?
He shook his head, but a lingering
feeling of doubt remained.
“Varian, will you not wait? A few
months, perhaps? Even a year? If in
that time she still feels as she does
now for you and you for her, I will
gladly give you my blessing.”
“As always, I cherish your opinion,
Mother,” Varian replied vaguely,
giving her one of his charming grins.
She laughed and like a giddy young
girl, rushed over to her bed, where she
took a seat at the edge, and clasped
her hands together. “So tell me, what
is it like being ruler of Lytheria?”
He barely kept the smirk from his
face. Lydia was always curious to
know how he fared when he was the
leader of—anything, whether it be his
role in Vulcan’s army or as Vulcan’s
messenger.
Shaking his head, Varian replied, “I
am not the ruler of Lytheria, Mother. I
serve in my brother’s stead.”
Nodding, Lydia waved her hand in
dismissal. “So tell me. What has it
been like, Varian? I’m sure it comes
naturally to you.”
Even as Varian shook his head, he
began to speak. His mother loved him,
and sought to know any and every
aspect of his life. He would answer
her questions, but also reaffirm that he
ruled for Vulcan. Sometimes, Lydia
seemed to forget that.
***
Vulcan was finding his wife’s
actions most…odd. She’d awoken
early in the morning, before the sun
had risen, and ordered a bath. He’d
remained abed, watching as she sat in
the tub of water and stared ahead.
Something was obviously occupying
her thoughts. When he’d asked her,
she’d started as if she’d forgotten he
was in her bed, and stepped from the
tub, drying herself off quickly. And
over the course of the day, she
practically tip-toed around him, which
was unlike her. She usually sought
him out at least twice during the day
but he had not seen her since early
this morning. When he’d trained with
his warriors, he’d looked about to see
if she was standing at a safe distance
watching them. She was not there
either. Strange.
So as he sat behind his desk, unable
to concentrate on anything save his
wife’s behavior, he remembered that
she’d mentioned Lydia last night but
hadn’t wished to follow up on it. Had
Lydia said something to offend his
wife? Was that why Jaisyn acted so
strangely?
Needing answers, he sent for his
stepmother. If Jaisyn wouldn’t tell him
what happened, then the Dowager
Queen would.
Lydia entered his study minutes
after, and curtsied to him.
“You sent for me, Majesty?” she
asked, standing before him with her
hands clasped together.
“You may sit,” he told her,
watching as she folded herself primly
into the carved chair, arranging her
dress as she did so.
“What did you discuss with my wife
last night?” He’d called Lydia here for
one reason, and he saw no need to
ease into it when he could outright ask
the question.
Lydia blinked rapidly and laughed in
a confused manner. “I apologize, my
liege. I am confused.”
“Jaisyn told me she was with you
last night,” he replied calmly, staring
into his stepmother’s wide blue eyes.
“Oh,” she nodded, clearing her
throat. “It was but a ten minute walk
before I took to my bed. I wished to
congratulate her on a Season well
held.”
Lydia suddenly turned her head to
the side. “Did she say anything else?”
Vulcan’s
eyes
narrowed
dangerously and he replied softly, “Is
there something she should have told
me?”
She looked down at her lap and
began fussing with her skirts. Another
important part of her carefully laid
plan was about to be divulged. “I do
not think it important, liege, but before
I went to bed, Bael approached us.
The queen continued her walk with
him.”
“Bael?” On Vulcan’s lips, the words
sounded like a curse.
Lydia nodded and looked up at him,
beaming brightly once more. “I am
sure he escorted her back to her
room. It was quite innocent. Any
gentleman would do as he did,
Vulcan.”
“Thank you, Lydia. You may
leave.”
***
“Bring Bael of Montak before me.
Immediately.”
Vulcan stood and began to pace.
Jaisyn had mentioned nothing of Bael
when
he’d
asked
about
her
whereabouts last night. Why would
she not mention him unless she were
hiding something? He saw red as he
thought of that. If Jaisyn was hiding
something concerning Bael, he had no
doubt it had something to do with
intimacy. Had Bael attempted to kiss
her? Or touch her inappropriately? A
growl escaped his lips and he looked
back to the door. His eyes fell to the
sword at his side and he began pacing
once more.
The sound of the door opening had
Vulcan moving over to the entrance.
The soldier he’d sent after Bael
stepped back into the study and
bowed.
“Bael of Montak left this morning,
sire.”
“He
what
?” Vulcan’s voice was like
a whiplash: quick, precise and hard.
The soldier blanched but repeated
what he said. Vulcan waved a hand,
dismissing the man. His blood boiled.
Bael was hardheaded but he wasn’t
stupid. At least, Vulcan had never
pegged him as such. Leaving without
the permission of one’s overlord
ranked high on the lists of stupid
things a vassal could do. Bael had
been to court numerous times, and not
once had he departed without taking
his leave.
Vulcan’s nostrils flared angrily. Bael
was running. Why would he run
unless he was guilty? His mind began
to piece together the information that
Lydia had given and the quick
departure of the Montak king.
“Abakar!” he roared and the soldier
pushed the door open and ran inside,
his sword drawn. Seeing no danger,
he lowered the tip to the ground.
“Have someone fetch my wife!”
Abakar took a look at his king’s face
and hastily went about doing as he
asked.
***
Jaisyn had spoken to Lydia early in
the morning and the news she’d
received had done little to calm her
mind. In fact, she’d been told they’d
met Bael along the way and he’d
offered to escort her back to her
room. She ran a hand through her hair
and closed her eyes. She did not
remember seeing Bael until she awoke
in his bed. Slapping her hand against
her forehead, she sighed in frustration
and stood, then walked to her
window. It would soon be time for
supper and she would have to sit
opposite Vulcan, have to watch as he
lifted curious brows in her direction.
She moved back to her bed, holding
her extended belly under the material
of the gown, as she sat down. She
didn’t want to tell her husband that
she’d awoken in another man’s arms,
that she hadn’t known how she’d
gotten there or if they’d done anything
— Her hand went to her lips and she
shook her head. Again, she tried to
remember last night. She remembered
only walking with Lydia and waking
up in Bael’s bed.
A knock sounded at her door and
she jumped, before relaxing. Vulcan
would not knock.
“Yes?”
The door opened and a soldier stood
in the doorway. “The king is asking
for your presence, Majesty.”
She stared at the soldier’s face, and
noticed he was looking at her with
something akin to sympathy. He
knew. Vulcan knew.
She nodded, and the soldier moved
from her room, closing the door
behind him.
Jaisyn walked over to the looking
glass and smoothed her dress down. It
was a beautiful fuchsia-colored day
dress, ornately embroidered with
various patterns of flowers. She
picked at a speck of invisible dust, ran
a hand down her round belly, and
lifted her chin. She was as ready to
face him as she could be.
***
Vulcan was sitting behind his desk
when she walked into the study and
closed the door. He did not move as
she approached, but continued to
stare at a pile of parchments on his
desk. When she was before the desk,
he looked up and the rage she saw in
his eyes frightened her. Still, she held
his gaze until he pushed the chair
back and stood.
“Tell
me,
wife
. Exactly what
happened last night?” The desk
separating them did nothing to
alleviate Jaisyn’s fears.
“I was preparing for bed when your
stepmother asked me to walk with
her. We spoke…and I returned.”
Jaisyn knew she’d left out vital
information in that summary but she
couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say it
because she knew how it would make
her look.
Vulcan
nodded
and
scowled
dangerously.
“And
nothing
else
happened,
wife
?”
She flinched inwardly at how he
said the word “wife,” like it was
something foul he was trying to get
from his mouth.
Jaisyn nodded and looked away
from his angry face. “That is all I
remember, Vulcan.”
“You don’t remember having Bael
escort you to your room?” he bit out.
She shook her head. In truth, she
didn’t remember anything concerning
Bael up until waking up in his arms.
“I have spoken to Lady Lydia,
Jaisyn. I demand the truth! I will not
be taken a fool in my own castle!”
He moved from behind the desk and
came to stand before her. His cheeks
were red. Grey eyes blazed down at
her.
It was a chore to keep her eyes on
his when her brain was telling her she
should be looking down. That she’d
done something so shameful it
required her to bow her head to him.
“What happened after my step-
mother left you with Bael?” His voice
had dropped to an ominous growl.
She shook her head. “Vulcan, I—I
don’t remember.” She could lie,
assure him that Bael had delivered her
to her room, or that she’d spent some