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But the Duke of Andelin would be married with the same thoroughness he did everything else: inarguably, irrevocably, smashing through all resistance to stamp the act on the pages of history, so even scholars in generations to come could not contest his will.
He had commanded whole armies and ordered thousands of men to march to their deaths, but he had never been responsible for anything as fragile as a girl.
Now he understood why men made fools of themselves over women.
She felt stained with the memory of his hands, his voice, his mouth, confused by the man she thought she had neatly categorized into mean, comma, very large. Burying her face in her hands, she flipped through a mental catalogue of books, searching for some applicable wisdom. The best she could come up with was the observation that life was suffering.
“There are many kinds of bravery, my lady. The subtler variety is no less worthy.”
“But while you’re bracing for a storm, Rem, someone’s got to be ready in case the sky is just blue.”
🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
On such small things, destinies were sometimes decided.
“You are safe, Princess,” he said, snapping a towel over his shoulder. “If all the valley sank into the sea, every man here would be carrying you to a boat.”
But by the stars a woman what’s fed by Wen of Tallford has fat cheeks and a waist a yard round or I’ll know the reason why!
If he had learned nothing else in the last few weeks, it was how astonishingly little it took to make her happy. Even as they rode together, she was nibbling another croissant and looking contentedly at anything and everything around her, as if she wanted nothing more from the world that morning. She was so shy, and the least harshness cowed her, but surely it meant he was doing something right if she could look like that.
But from the moment she opened her eyes every morning, Remin was there. Gentle and unsmiling, the unshakable bedrock beneath every step she took. How wonderful it would be, if he would always be there.
She and Remin were both being so careful around each other, tiptoeing forward with each new offering as if they were asking, is this all right? Are we all right? Is this what you want?
“Because I love you.” He said it straight out, with such sadness in his eyes that she felt tears burn in her own. “I love you, and I would rather…you lived. But I’m tired of waiting for the axe to fall. If this is another trick—” He had to stop. His jaw tightened. “Then you win,” he whispered. “I concede. Just do it now, please.”
“Do you still love me in the morning?” he asked, and her lips curved. “Yes,” she said, her eyes slitting open. “Do you still love me?” “Yes.” He rumbled with contentment as he kissed her. “More than anything.”
