Page 49 of Stolen Princess's Secret

‘Good, because I’m only ever going to do that once. How is our baby feeling?’

She’d closed her eyes but cracked one open, just a slit. ‘Too small to tell, but I think it’s all good. Tomorrow morning will be a repeat of this morning, but with more cake involved. I did eat a lot of cake. The vanilla frosting was on point.’

Where had the people come up with enough food to feed and water six hundred at such short notice? And they were still going, those wedding celebrations, and somehow, he was going to have to make good on those vows he’d made before everyone and God.

‘I’m sorry you had to lie about loving me. I know you don’t. Not really.’ She had her eyes closed again, so missed his double-take. He opened his mouth to tell her that although he’d been put ruthlessly on the spot in full public view, he hadn’t been lying when he’d made those vows. He’d meant every word.

How could she not have recognised his sincerity? Even if he had just been grumbling about the unevenness of their vows.

‘I—’

But she was already speaking again, her voice coming in over his. ‘I want you to know that I’m going to do everything I possibly can to make this union work. I don’t want to disappoint you. I’m determined to be of use.’

Of use.

She was of use to her brother.

She’d been of use to Ildris and his ilk.

Why was being of use so important to her sense of self? Was she really so motivated by service to others or had it merely been a survival tactic for far too many years?

He hesitated before speaking his mind, not quite knowing how his next words would be received. ‘You have a thing about being useful to others. You turn yourself inside out for people and put their needs above yours, but that’s not how I want this marriage to work. You don’t exist to be used by others. Let’s figure out together what moving forward means, and go easy on the one-way self-sacrifice.’

She put the heels of her hands to her eyes as if his words hurt her. His heart ached for her.

‘For example,’ he continued doggedly. ‘You’ve talked about not feeling at home in the places you live. Should creating a home base where we feel completely and utterly ourselves be our number one priority?’

‘Yes.’ It sounded like a sob, but it was a yes.

‘Could a modest manor house in the middle of nowhere, with no old memories attached, ever become such a place for you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Clean slate. New beginnings. A baby on the way. We can make new memories. Beautiful ones. No matter what has brought us to this moment, will you do that with me, and for me, and, most importantly, for yourself?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ He pulled her into his arms and she curled into him and clung as if she’d never let him go. ‘It’s not so bad, this being married business,’ he declared gruffly. ‘We’re going to nail this.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

BEING MARRIED HADN’T actually changed his way of life all that much, decided Tomas several months later. He’d known from the beginning not to expect Claudia to be a stay-at-home wife, eagerly awaiting his return after a day of blissful homemaking, but the time she spent in service to the Crown and the various charities she’d adopted, and her continued service to Ildris and his northerners, meant she didn’t actually spend a lot of time in Aergoveny.

Likewise, he was busier than ever as he travelled between the manor and the winter fortress and carved out the time to join his princess wife at the various state banquets and luncheons Casimir insisted they attended.

Far from his reputation being sullied, it had been thoroughly gilded once his high-country wedding to the Crown Princess had become common knowledge. The people of Byzenmaach approved of Claudia’s choice of partner. Photos of him and his eagles had helped. He was of Byzenmaach and his pedigree went back generations. He brooded photogenically.

He was the new Lord of Aergoveny, and Aergoveny had claimed him.

As Casimir had warned, he now had his own political capital to spend.

It had only taken one excruciatingly boring state dinner and a round of idle conversation between him and some of the courtiers who’d been stirring up rumours about Claudia’s legitimacy and planting stories about her unfortunate Stockholm Syndrome. They’d even begun wondering aloud, and in his presence, when Claudia might give birth. Apparently, they’d thought themselves beyond reproach or justified in their smear campaigns. Perhaps they’d thought him toothless.

How deluded was that?

He’d begun by reminiscing about a particular hunting party some of them had attended at the winter fortress many years ago under the rule of the late Leonidas. Pity about those heinous rumours of sexual assault on the son of the Duke of Laire, wasn’t it? Such a tragedy, the boy’s subsequent suicide. Such a shame no one in attendance had ever seemed to have the stomach to get to the bottom of it.

Wasn’t it?

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