Ada stared at him. "What are ye daein'?"
"Sleepin'."
"In the chair?"
"Aye."
Ada sat up, confusion warring with something that felt uncomfortably like hurt. "But we're married. We're supposed tae consummate the marriage. The sheets need tae be stained."
"I ken what the sheets need tae be." Magnus didn't look at her. "But I'm nae goin' tae force ye intae somethin' ye're clearly terrified of."
"I'm nae terrified."
"Ye're shakin' so hard I can see it from here." Magnus's voice was quiet but firm. "And yer face has been pale all evenin'. Ye dinnae want this."
She hadn’t realized it was so obvious. He walked over to her and lifted his hand —slow, careful—and brushed her cheek. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant, and that was what broke her.
Her breath stuttered. Her hands clenched in his tunic without permission, and she hated the way her body betrayed her fear. Heat rushed behind her eyes.
"That's nae… it's nae about wantin' or nae wantin'." Ada pulled the covers up to her chin. "It's about… we have tae consummate the marriage. Brian needs proof. The king needs proof."
"The king will get his proof." Magnus stood, moved to the bed. He pulled a small knife from his belt.
Ada's eyes widened. "What are ye daeing?"
Magnus pressed the blade to his upper arm and drew it across in one quick motion. Blood welled immediately. He held his arm over the white sheet, letting drops fall onto the linen.
"There," he said, wrapping it in a strip of cloth. "Proof."
Ada stared at the blood staining the sheet. "Ye cut yerself?"
"Aye."
"But that wasnae necessary. Ye didnae have tae."
"I'm nae goin' tae force ye, Ada." Magnus moved back to the chair. "Ye're me wife. That means I protect ye. Even from meself if necessary."
Ada didn't know what tae say. Part of her was relieved—God, so relieved that she wouldn't have to face it that night, wouldn't have to endure something she didn't fully understand while her body still shook with nerves.
But another part of her felt something else entirely. Something that twisted uncomfortably in her chest.
He didn't want her. That's what this meant. He was willing to cut his own hand rather than touch her. Would rather sleep in a chair than share a bed with his own wife.
"Dae ye—" Ada's voice came out smaller than she'd intended. "Dae ye find me that unpleasant?"
Magnus's head snapped up. "What?"
"Ye willnae even look at me. Ye're sleepin' in a chair rather than share the bed. And now ye've hurt yerself tae avoid—" Ada stopped, swallowed hard. "I ken I'm nae as beautiful as other women. I ken I'm too thin and me hair's too plain and I've nay experience with any of this. But…"
"Stop. That's nae—God, Ada, that's nae it at all."
"Then what is it?"
Magnus looked at her for a long moment. In the candlelight, his face was all sharp angles and shadows, his hazel eyes dark and unreadable.
"I want ye," he said finally. "More than is probably wise. But ye're terrified, and I willnae be the kind of husband who takes what he wants without carin' about yer fear."
Ada's breath caught. "Ye want me?"
