Page 114 of Traitor Son

“Will they ever come to visit? The Duke and Duchess?” The prospect made her nervous because of course they would, one day. The whole point of having a vast manor was to host guests, sometimes dozens of them at a time. Ereguil was one of the great duchies of Argence, an ancient and noble family whose House was as old as the House of Agnephus, the House of the Emperor. And the Duke and Duchess of Ereguil were the nearest thing to parents that he had.

“Next year, most likely. I’m hoping to have a respectable place for them to stay, and they both say they want to see the valley. Maybe that was why she sent the tea service,” he added reflectively. “She’s the greatest lady I know. If you decided to go and stay with them, they would bring you back when they visit.”

The words were as sudden and shocking as a slap, and Ophele hastily lowered her eyes to hide her hurt. He hadn’t mentioned the possibility of sending her away since her sun sickness, and she thought he had forgotten. With the wall nearing completion, it didn’t seem there was any reason for her to leave.

Unless he didn’t want her here.

All this time, he had kept his word to take care of her. But maybe he still didn’t like her. Maybe he was just doing what he had to do to make sure she was healthy enough to bear his children. Maybe he would rather she was out of the way until she was strong enough to do so.

Strong enough for him to bed her, without love.

Her mind shied away from that thought as unbearable. Before, she thought she could do it. As long as he didn’t actually strike her, he was an improvement over the Hurrells. And she had given an oath to do it; the most important thing she could do was to secure his succession. But if he didn’t love her…

“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly.

It was the hardest thing she had ever had to say. To screw up her courage to tell him the truth, especially when she didn’t know what would happen after she did. But she didn’t want to go. She wanted to help him. She wanted to be here for the building of his dream, which she had thought was becomingtheirdream.

Be brave, and don’t tell lies.

“No,” she whispered. “I want to help. Do…doyouwant me to go?”

“You have helped,” He replied softly, and his big fingers brushed hers, to make her look at him. “I hadn’t realized how much. But I want you to be safe. I don’t want you to be afraid anymore. I know this place is hard for you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Youshouldmind,” he said, and when his black eyes met hers, she felt the jolt to her heart. “You’re a lady. You’re aprincess.And you deserve so muchbetter,you should have everything, and I can’t—I thought, when you first came here, that youexpectedit, but Ophele, you’re just so…”

She was looking at his lips. Suddenly, he was so near that she would only have to turn her head a little, and he would kiss her. She could see herself reflected in his eyes, and his voice was so deep and aching that she could hardly breathe. She wanted him to say it, whatever it was. She wanted it so badly, it was as if the fate of the world hung in the balance.

“What?” she whispered finally, and her hand reached for his all by itself.

“Nothing. Nothing,” he said, rising so abruptly his knees banged the table. “Never mind. It’s just my foolishness. I should go and help on the wall, I meant to go earlier. I’ll be back to fetch you for supper. Don’t go outside until it’s cooler, Juste thinks it will be another scorcher this afternoon…”

He was pulling on his boots as he spoke, and Ophele watched, hurt and bewildered and for some reason unspeakably disappointed.

“I won’t,” she said, as if she had a habit of roving the countryside in the heat of the day. It didn’t make any sense. If he didn’t like her, why did he look at her that way? So many times, he would forget himself and laugh, or his eyes would get so warm, and then when he touched her…

But it wasn’t only his touch. As she watched him gather his things, Ophele considered and rejected the possibility that this was a purely physical phenomenon, or, contrariwise, a matter of simple obligation. By now, their nights together seemed almost a romantic dream, a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger that would never happen again. But she had never forgotten that kindling between them, and she had come to know Remin better, since then. The man that listened andexplained, patient and persistent, a brave man that tried even when he didn’t know how to do things.

She liked this man. She liked him very much.

And he had already told her that he didn’t know how to do this.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said as he ducked out the door, and Ophele nodded, her eyes watchful.

“Be careful.”

Take care of His Grace.That was what Sir Huber had told her, when they were dancing together the night of the banquet. And of course, she had agreed; that was what a wife was supposed to do, even if the husband was Remin Grimjaw and the wife was manifestly unqualified to take care of anything.

But Remin’s men all seemed to think he needed care, and Ophele quietly picked over the evidence. She knew little of the world and nothing of men, but when she put forth the proposition that he didn’t care for her, the weight of evidence did not seem to support it. His observed behavior flatly contradicted it. If he had wanted only to be rid of her, he would have seized this chance with both hands.

Which meant there was somethingelsetroubling him, and as Ophele’s eyes drifted toward the door he had closed so gently behind him, she understood that this was a puzzle, of a kind she had never attempted before.

* * *

I need to speak to you privately, please.

The note was scrawled on a small scrap of paper, rolled up in a tight scroll and hidden under the edge of his dinner plate.

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