Astin’s head snapped in the direction of approaching horses.
Shit.
The three of them scampered out of the mud, snatching up clothing and boots and wrestling them on as quickly as they could.
Borin looked between them as he pulled up his horse. ‘What on earth is going on here?’ His eyes settled on Lyndal, moving over her. ‘I know merchants love their mud, but this seems a bit much.’
Lyndal dropped her gaze.
‘Our bull was stuck, Your Majesty,’ Presley said. ‘Your companion was kind enough to help.’
The king was still staring at Lyndal. ‘Well, next time she better leave it to the farmers.’
‘It’s just a bit of mud, Your Grace,’ Lyndal said as she smoothed down her crinkled skirt.
‘You forget who you ride beside,’ the king shot back.
Astin’s fingers curled into fists. ‘My fault, not hers. I let her get in.’
The king looked at him. ‘While that is noble of you, your job is to guard her, not keep her clean. Escort her back to the castle.’ He swung his horse around. ‘Cannot have the farmers mistaking her for a pig.’
They watched him ride away. Then Presley gave Lyndal a sympathetic smile as she went to collect Rose.
‘Let’s get you cleaned up,’ she said, taking her sister’s hand.
Astin and Lyndal remained there, not looking at one another.
‘You did warn me,’ she finally said.
He exhaled, nodded, then began walking. ‘Let’s go.’
Chapter 20
The next day, Lyndal accepted the king’s offer to have dinner together in the privacy of his quarters. She listened to him talk about himself and his accomplishments for two hours while pushing the same piece of duck around her plate. It was never a good thing when your food reminded you of your family pet. She kept picturing Garlic roaming free around Wright House, despite objections from Harlan—which she suspected were for show.
‘My mother told me that what a woman puts in her mouth greatly impacts reproduction,’ the king said, pushing his empty plate away. ‘Good nutrition should be the priority of every woman of child-bearing age.’
Lyndal’s fork stilled. ‘Sorry. It’s an awful lot of food for two people.’
‘A merchant’s perspective.’ He picked up his cup and drank, red wine staining above his lip, where stubble should have been.
Lyndal glanced at the door, wishing Astin were inside the room instead of out in the corridor. They could have exchanged knowing looks.
‘You know, the birth rate in the merchant borough has dropped significantly,’ the king went on.
Lyndal closed her eyes and laid down her fork. ‘It’s not by choice, I assure you. Though after seeing all the new lambs and calves in the farming borough today, I feel quite hopeful. How long until they’ll make their way to the butchers?’
Borin swirled the liquid in his cup. ‘It is too early to talk numbers, and it is certainly not for you to worry about.’
There was little that came out of that man’s mouth that did not grate on her. That was about as far as her tolerance could stretch for one evening.
Looking down at her plate, she said, ‘I’m afraid I’m rather exhausted. Do you mind if I retire for the evening?’ She rose from her chair.
‘I thought you might visit me in my bedchamber this evening.’
‘What for?’ As soon as she asked the question, she realised she knew the answer. ‘Oh.’ Surely he was not expecting her to visit his bed before they were wed. ‘I might be half merchant, Your Grace, but I’m also half lady.’
His scratched his nose and straightened the cutlery on his plate. ‘I assumed you would be equally as curious about the extent of our compatibility.’
