A deal I was sure to hear about in council. This was delightful news; though our own crops were growing now, it would takesome time before Gallae was stable. The death toll had been “manageable” according to others, though it was still high enough to make me faint of heart.
Gods, and speaking offood...
I parted from the crowd, taking the rare opportunity to slip from Marcy’s omnipresence, and walked back to the castle with daydreams of snacks. Perhaps I could arrange for the kitchen servants to craft a hand pie and deliver it to my chambers.
An arm hooked through mine. I traced up the limb, tilting my head at Nicolas. Whether I intended to crawl out of my skin or sob with relief, I wasn’t sure yet. That depended on what was about to tumble out of those stupid lips of his. It had better be damned good.
“I’ve dismissed her,” he said quietly. “Permanently.”
My heart stopped. “Don’t tell me you k—”
“No, I didn’t have her killed,” Nicolas hastily amended. “I simply told her to seek employment elsewhere. Damn.”
Well, he could hardly blame me for going there. My scowl persisted, though; it didn’t take away what I’d seen.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked, changing subjects. “I saw you flinch again, but I didn’t want to cause a fuss.”
I made an assessment of my body, suddenly aware of everything I’d learned to ignore. “My feet ache, my breasts are tender, and I could eat anything right about now.”
“It’s good that you’re able to eat again.” His arm tensed around mine as he pulled me right instead of left, away from the kitchens and up the stairs. Then we passed my chambers. “I’ll have food sent along. As for the rest…”
He released me and opened the door to our shared room, sweeping his arm toward it in gesture.
My lips thinned. “I should slap you for even insinuating—”
“A moment of your time,” he interrupted. “I’m not asking for forgiveness.”
“So, you believe you did nothing wrong?” My feet betrayed me, stepping into the room, but if he so much as kissed me, I’d curse him with a kidney stone.
Nicolas shut the door and locked it. “No. I was wrong about many things. I won’t ask you to forgive me because you reserve the right to hate me for all of it.”
“Then why am I here?” I eyed the door uneasily.
“Because your feet ache, and I’m going to rub them,” he answered.
“And I won’t have someone walk in on me bowing to my wife.”
“Would that be so wrong?”
He smiled, then motioned his head toward the chaise longue. I went to it and waited. Then Nicolas came over, dropping to his knees before me, and carefully removed my slippers.
“If publicly humiliating me would fix things, then I would let you walk on me in the courtyard.” Something in his tone said he meant that. He took hold of my left foot, and his thumbs made swift work of my arches. I leaned back, surprised by how good it felt. “It’s less about them seeing me bow and more about them overhearing the sounds you’re about to make.”
“What do y—oh.”
He moved down to the ball of my foot, pressing firm circles into the heart of the ache.
“You’re fighting it,” he observed, moving to knead along my instep. “Your whole leg is rigid.”
“I wonder why,” I muttered. But even as the words left my mouth, my calf relaxed against my will.
He found a particularly tender spot in my heel and worked it out, patiently, until the knot released. A small, involuntary sound escaped my throat.
“There.” Nicolas didn’t bother hiding his satisfaction. He moved to my toes, gently pulling and rotating each one. I couldn’t protest as my eyes drifted shut. My head fell back against the chaise as he switched to my other side, beginning the process again.
“Why did—” I began, pausing to suppress another moan. “Why did you dismiss her? Because I threatened you?”
“Because you regarded me like I’d become something repulsive.”
