What Do We Do?

I never wanted to marry her. I’d been intended since the age of two, but I much preferred my third cousin on my father’s side. She was demure and smiled without aggression. My wife had been nothing but aggression, in the pursuit of the crown, me, and, eventually, my heart.

I traced a finger along her jaw so often set in the expectation of complete success. She looked almost like she slept, eyes completely relaxed in as she could never allow herself in life’s waking moments. Except with me in...