Chapter 18
Giss woke late the next day and was relieved to find she was back in her wedding bed. Obviously Larsinc had carried her downstairs after she’d fallen asleep. A covered tray sat near the bed, but when she moved, she found she needed a moment. Between her legs, she was more than a little sore. How many times had he made love to her? Four? Five? And every time he’d been a bit rougher than the last.
Wrapped in the sheet, she stood next to the tray stand and lifted the lid, finding mouth-watering pastries, cheeses, fruits, and jams. Then the report of a gun made her jump and she rushed to the window.
Outside she saw three male figures taking aim at targets. What were they doing?
Giss didn’t like the look on the hulking commander’s face as he said something to her golden husband. She yanked a gown over her head and raced out of the room. When she emerged onto the terrace though, she found Melsint and Princess Brandese with elegantly styled hair and dressed in exceedingly expensive dresses, like they were ready for a ball instead of breakfast.
She sucked in an embarrassed breath as the princess looked her over.
“Oh dear. That’s not really the look for the terrace,” the exquisite auburn-haired princess said. Even in the flesh she looked like a porcelain doll.
Gissandre froze, horrified. “I’m so sorry, your highness.” She dropped into a curtsey.
“Nothing to worry over,” Melsint said, clutching Giss around the waist and steering her inside.
“Dead realms. I’ve nothing on underneath. Is this transparent in sunlight?”
A stout housekeeper clucked a tongue as they passed. “What’s this?” she said in a clipped tone.
“Nothing at all, ma’am. You never saw us, I’m sure,” Mels said, giving Giss a little push into the guest room. “That’s Duckworth, the house manager. She’s very particular.”
The door opened just after Melsint shut it, and Larsinc entered, his skin warmly golden and cheeks flushed from sport.
“Are you all right, Gissandre?”
“Yes, very well.”
“Sit. Let me look at your legs,” he said, setting her on the bed and dropping to a knee to look at her calves and feet. “You were limping. Why?” He examined the small scar on the bottom of her foot.
Melsint smothered a laugh. “I don’t think she’s walking careful from sore feet, Sir,” she said, just before she backed out and closed the door behind her.
It was absolutely unbearable that everyone had seen and probably realized where and why she was sore, but when she saw his rueful smile, Giss couldn’t help but laugh. “I take it you’re not used to bedding virgins all night and then seeing them walk the day after?”
“You’re my first virgin.” After a pause, he added, “And, come to think of it, my only one ever.”
“I suppose so.” Shaking her head, she said, “You were all the way across the lawn. How did you get to the room so quickly?”
“I’m a warrior. I move fast when I decide to.”
“They probably thought you ran over so quickly to see if I’d lost my mind, rushing outside in nothing but a sheer shift.”
“Why did you?”
“I heard guns, and I—you’ll think it’s silly, but I was worried about you.”
“Ah.”
“They must think I’m ridiculous. And they would be right!”
He shrugged. “If I woke up and realized you were outside with guns being fired, I would have dropped out that window naked.”
She laughed. “No, you wouldn’t have! But thank you for trying to make me feel better.”
“Gissandre,” he said slowly. “You’ve been my love from the first time you looked at me, and now you’re my wife. If you think I’m joking, you don’t understand how sacred I hold the vows I made to you.”
Tears stung her eyes because her heart ached at how unabashedly he could declare his feelings. She swallowed. “I love you as well.” She paused, knowing she sounded more stiff and formal than she meant to. “I’m not as good at telling you.”
