Page 52 of Stolen Princess's Secret

‘I like it when you touch me or lean against me or trail your hand across my shoulders when you walk by,’ he rumbled, mindful of Lor’s advice that he should be more forthcoming. He was getting used to having to use his words more in all sorts of situations, rather than expect others to pick up on his non-verbal cues.

‘You like it when I scratch the feathers at the back of your neck too.’

He huffed a laugh. So he did. ‘Blame it on my early childhood conditioning. My father was a man of gestures rather than words. When I was younger, he’d carry me on his shoulders. When I got older I’d work my skinny little kid guts out to earn a pat on the back. My mother was big on putting my favourite food in front of me in my favourite bowl. Then she’d run her hand through my hair and mutter about there being more twigs in it than a bird’s nest.’

‘So touch is an expression of love for you. Good to know.’

‘And you work yourself to the bone for the people you love. It’s what you do. Baked into your psyche. It’s what I want to talk to you about.’

She eyed him warily.

‘You’re doing too much for others and too little for us.’ He came right out and said it.

She was silent a long time. Long enough for him to immerse himself in the water completely and rise, shaking the droplets from his hair and pushing the hair from his face. Hardly Aquaman, but she always seemed pleased enough with his body and that in turn pleased him.

‘They need me.’

‘They can’t always have you. I and our baby are going to need you more.’

She dropped her gaze and skimmed her hands through the water in lazy figure eights, making ripples but not splashes. A turbulence that lapped at his skin rather than attacked it.

‘One of my ways of showing love as a kid was to try and be as invisible and unobtrusive as possible,’ she offered finally. ‘If I could just be still enough and silent enough, they could pretend I wasn’t there, and Cas wouldn’t have to try and protect me and end up taking a beating. Not breathing too loud was my version of love.’

And that was just heartbreaking, but he should have guessed. He’d seen first-hand what her childhood had been like, never mind that she’d never been like that with him as a kid.

‘Was it like that for you in the north as well?’ He moved closer, putting his hands to her belly, and measuring growth in finger spans.

‘To start with, yes. I breathed very quietly and I was always wondering where I would go or what I would do if they simply packed up and left me behind. Then I overheard one of the elders saying I’d be of more use once my father was dead and Cas became King and I clung to the thought that somehow I could be of use. I tried to learn as much as I could. I was forever putting myself forward, being the first to volunteer for anything and everything so I could be of use.’

‘They manipulated you. I’ll never think differently. But more to the point, don’t you think you’ve repaid that debt in full?’

‘I—don’t know.’

‘Ask them what more they want from you. Tell them your focus is shifting to your baby and allocate what you do for them to other people for the next six months. When they prove competent—and they will—leave them in those positions.’

He sneaked a glance and could see she was thinking it over as she chewed delicately on her bottom lip. Her matter-of-fact recounting of that time in her life horrified him. It sat at odds with how she usually spoke well of her time in the north. Maybe both versions could be true. Maybe all that mattered was that he understood her duality and listened to her concerns.

‘It makes sense that you would swing from being barely visible to being all up in the thick of things, determined to be useful.’ He pressed his lips to her belly. ‘It makes sense that you’re struggling to find a middle ground to reside in, but I’m here to help you find that balance if you’ll let me. You are half a fingernail wider across the belly,’ he declared.

‘You think I’m failing you and our baby.’

‘No,’ he countered firmly. ‘No. But I want us to remember what we talked about on the night of our wedding and that we chose to make our relationship, our baby and our home, our first priority. And we haven’t been, so let’s do a reset. Both of us. Okay? I’ve been just as guilty as you of letting other things get in the way.’

He gathered her close and she clung to him. He hugged her tight and bobbed them up and down, dunking them at one point to wash away her tears. He cast about for something to show how deeply he wanted to make her feel wanted and secure.

‘Balo’s nonna’s a potter, so I made you a mug when I went to see them about his grandfather stepping into that supervisory role.’

‘You went to offer a man a job and ended up making a teacup?’ Her smile was watery, but she wasn’t crying that he could tell.

‘Yes. It’s wobbly but I think I’ve improved since I made that one for my mother—you’d recognise that one. It’s the one in Lor’s kitchen that I always use. I couldn’t decide on a colour for your glaze—it’s a toss-up between the blue of the sky or amber like your eyes. I have to go back to paint it once it’s dry.’

‘Blue. Blue for the sky.’

‘You could come too and see what you think of the blue tableware for our day-to-day use at the manor. I liked it.’

She pulled away as far as he would let her—which wasn’t far. ‘Tomas Sokolov, are you nesting?’

‘Is that what you call it?’

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