Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
I finished pouring my own cup and sat back with it, sighing.
“And it’s chilly out there,” Father continued. “Even chopping wood.”
I could not imagine my father ever chopped wood, thus he would not know the effort it would take or how that might fight back a chill.
But he was not wrong about the cold.
After a short warm spell, the nip had set in.
At first, this was delightful, cuddling with Mars in our tent as we journeyed here.
And then it continued to be delightful, cuddling with Mars in front of the fire, or in bed before we slept, after we arrived here.
Then it became less delightful.
We cuddled, and Mars kissed me and embraced me and did things to me with his mouth and his fingers that were extraordinary.
Once he gave me a climax, however, he’d then hold me, this lasting less and less time, before, eventually, he began to sigh heavily, as if he was annoyed, and if it was in the night, he would turn away from me, but if it was in the morning, he would get out of bed and leave me.
Marriage, I was finding, was not a’tall easy.
Marriage to Mars, I was finding, was like being in a carriage with the shades drawn on a ride on a very bumpy road when you could not see the dips until you felt them.
“If I were you, I’d get on giving him a child,” my father declared.
I blinked at him.
“A son, if you can manage it, so you wouldn’t have the bother of needing to give him another,” he continued. “I heard those Nadirii can magic the sex of a child in the womb. You can ask one of your new friends to cast a spell. Then you can leave him with it and come home.”
Leave?
My husband?
With “it?”
That “it” being my child?
I did not get into that.
I got into something he might understand.
“Father, I am queen.”
“His mother still lives. She can supervise the palace in your stead. She knows how. She’s been doing it for years.”
I put my cup in its saucer and lied, “I think I’m getting a headache.”
“This does not surprise me,” he muttered.
I looked out the window.
Mars was no longer chopping.
He had the ax resting on its head, he was leaning a hand into the end, and he was chatting.
To our servants.
There were servant boys everywhere at Catrame Palace.
Did I see him chat to any of them?
No.
Not once!
Before I looked away, I saw Kyril peer through the window at me and he did this frowning.
Lamentably, my husband saw him do it and he looked over his (bare!) shoulder at me.
Then, without even dipping his chin to acknowledge he had my attention, he turned back to a servant girl and resumed chatting.
Her name was Pegeen.
And she was very comely.
In fact, all the girls my father had employed were young.
And very comely.
“Silence,” my father called my focus, unfortunately for him.
For I’d had enough.
Of him.
Of Mars.
Of marriage.
Of prophecies.
Of beasts.
Of bloody Kyril frowning.
I wanted a fire, a rug, a cup of tea, a book, my wee Piccola, my own company…
And peace.
I set my cup down and stood.
My father looked up at me.
“I’m sorry if you feel this is rude, but much has happened, and in this time where I can unwind before it all starts up again, I’m going to find my book and do just that.”
“You shouldn’t read if you have a headache,” my father advised.
“And you should stand when a queen stands,” I returned.
My father stared up at me in shock.
“And not question what she wishes to do with her time,” I carried on.
He moved to the edge of his seat, saying conciliatorily, “Silence, I can imagine, a new bride, infatuated with her husband, finding it difficult to adjust to his culture’s mores of faithlessness and serial dalliances—”
“Stop speaking,” I hissed.
This time, he blinked in shock.
“My marriage is not your concern, you will not speak of it again. My husband is not your concern either. He is also not a barbarian. If you refer to him that way again, Father, we will no longer enjoy these visits. If you truly wish to spend time with me before all is said and done and I return to my new home, endeavor to make that time agreeable. Do not endeavor to drive distance between my husband and myself. I can assure you, if you pit the home and hearth you gave me at Bower Manor against the grandeur and serenity my husband offered at Catrame Palace, you…will…lose.”
He stood, sharing, “You might be Queen of Firenze, but you are still Countess of the Arbor and my daughter.”
“There’s but one of those titles that has meaning.”
He recoiled in insult.
I glared up at him.
“It seems I have bad timing, no?”
I started when I heard my husband’s deep voice.
He was leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb, deceptively casually.