There was a laugh, and then Girion gestured for her to speak.
“We should go to your rooms, yes?”
“I was going to ask if you were too tired and wanted to rest in your rooms?”
Jocasta shook her head. “No, thank you.”
She swore she heard him swallow, no, gulp, and then he nodded and opened the door for her.
“Nalar has been here,” Girion sighed when he surveyed the room.
Jocasta could see the Master of the Wardrobe’s handiwork. On one side of the bed, an elegant, sheer nightdress was laid out, along with slippers and a robe. Girion’s side of the bed had nothing on it.
“You don’t get a fancy gown?” she teased.
“I don’t think it’d have the same effect,” he groaned. “You don’t have to wear that. You can see right through— Well. It’ll be cold in that.”
“Well, you don’t have a thing to wear. You’ll be colder.”
“We have blankets.”
“I think perhaps they expect we’ll warm each other.”
Nodding.
Silence.
She was never good at silence when it was the better course of action, only clinging to it when she really ought to open her mouth. “If you are worried that I don’t want to lie with you, I do.”
“You do?” Girion looked surprised, but happy. “Honestly, Jo?”
She swallowed and nodded. “You said you loved me. And I know that what I feel is—”
“I said I loved you?” Girion cut her off sharply.
The happy bubbles filling her stomach began to pop, slowly, one at a time. “Y-yes?”
“When?”
“Why, just today!” The bubbles popped faster. Her fingers curled into tight, tense balls. “You said, ‘The love I have for her is equal to the love I have for my kingdom and my people.’ You said you chose me. With all the love in your heart.”
Girion looked at her, stricken. “The love I have for you as queen. As my ally. I place you equal to my kingdom and people. With all the love I have in my heart for Caledon, I choose you. You will save Caledon. Save my people.”
“Oh. Ohhh. I... I see that now. I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, that isn’t what you meant. Will you excuse me? I need to change out of this dress.”
Jocasta hurried away into the bathing chamber. Giron’s rooms were a mirror image of her own, only larger. She pushed the lever and let hot, steaming water, heated by the hearth that shared the wall, come cascading into the tub to muffle her sobs.
I don’t know why I’m crying. I didn’t need to be loved. I didn’t ask to be loved when I agreed to this.
I don’t know why I want his love at all; I don’t need it. He is kind enough without it. And I... I told him I didn’t love him yet.
She curled her head to her knees, hands over her mouth. Her crown toppled to the floor and clanked, making her gasp and cry even harder.
Too late, Jocasta realized she had lied to herself—and to him.
GIRION PACED, RIPPINGhis wedding finery and armor off bit by bit, each thrown with brutal force.
His wife was crying in the next room because he had broken her heart. He hadn’t meant to.
