“Next week? Sire, I’m sure with how dire this matter is, it can happen tonight!”
“I’m injured. Severely. I need to rest.” Girion winked at the two men and guided Jocasta away. “A week is what we need, minimum.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Your parents and Cole’s parents are in the palace, running things. Mainly answering correspondence and taking shipments, directing delegations. That sort of thing.”
Jocasta clung to Girion’s hand as they walked underground in stone passageways that seemed to go on for miles. He had to stoop, while she could walk comfortably, one hand holding a torch aloft while he pushed a small trolley of provisions.
“You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this.”
“When we arrive, I intend to exert myself a great deal more.”
“Two days of recuperation are not enough,” Jocasta protested.
“Is that the Stinking Eel tone? Your mother told me about that.”
Jocasta sighed. “You seem to be immune to it.”
“I’m just excited to take my bride to my secret hideaway. On the other side of the trees, beyond the pond, there’s a little lodge. Trees guard it so thickly that you cannot see it unless you’re in the woods with it.”
“A place where we won’t be bothered?”
“There’s nothing to bother us with. Public outcry against the Archduke is strong, support for you and our marriage abounds, the hot springs are in full flow, and this morning, a message from the southern region declared that a second hot spring opened and there are plots of grass. People are talking about raising goats and pigs.” Girion stopped before a cobweb-covered door, turned to her, and smiled. “And we haven’t even fullyconsummated. Not in the official manner of my essence filling your vessel.”
Jocasa looked at her husband. The diamond of a scar over his eye now had a mate in the jagged welt over his throat, healing to a raised white line. Her talisman was still bound in his braid, and his beard was shorter than ever, having been trimmed out of necessity due to part of it being singed. “You are certain it won’t overtax you?” she whispered.
“Lying with you in my arms these past two nights and not being able to do more than kiss you and hold you has been overtaxing every ounce of my reserve. I love you. I almost—I almost didn’t get the chance to tell you.”
Jocasta nodded, unable to speak around the sudden tightness in her throat. No, he hadn’t. She watched him push open the door and followed him through it, gasping when she stepped into the dearest little cottage, simple and clean, with logs already by the hearth, and bread, cheese, and wine set on the table. “How? Who?”
“Herrick, I think. I’d say Cole, but he’s been too busy helping his parents.”
“This place is so lovely. And sunny!”
“We can go for a walk in the woods, love of mine.”
Jocasta shut the secret door with a bang and rolled the tapestry back down over it. “I don’t feel much like walking.”
“YOU’RE HERE. REALLYhere. Oh, God. I thought... I thought so many things, and I could not lose you, too. You know how love gives a person power over you?” Jocasta whispered as she followed him to the wide featherbed in the center of the cottage’s three rooms. “It takes it from you, too. I never wanted to love another new person after losing my brothers. That would just be one more person to lose. Heartbreak weakens you. Leaves you ashell. And then... Then I met you, Girion. My heart never stood a chance against Girion the Great.”
“Mine was enclosed in ice and iron, and you melted both.” Girion swept her into a kiss, as if showing he was as strong as ever.
She knew he was. But she had seen him dying.
She had saved him. With her magic. Something she had failed to do, had not had the chance to do, twice before. Jocasta stroked his face, stroked his long braid, and dug her fingers into it. “Girion, the Greatest. You are so loved. By all of your subjects. By all of your soldiers. By your wife and queen. And soon, by our children.”
Girion blinked at her. “You aren’t... You can’t be.”
Jocasta smiled. “Maybe by the end of this week. At any rate, we’ll soon have started trying in earnest.”
GIRION WATCHED JOCASTAstep out of the simple pink dress she wore, something like the attire he had first seen her in. She looked... more regal. More elegant. More mature.Being married to me has aged her. The responsibility, the attack, the tasks she sets herself...“I love you more each day. Each passing second. You might not think that’s true, but it is,” he murmured, shedding his own clothes. Even though he loved the sun on her sweet, smooth skin, he closed one curtain, and she closed the other before she dropped her final stitch of clothing to the floor.
“No, I believe you. I have to. I know it’s true, since it happens with me, too.” Jocasta whispered. She slid into the bed, lying on the top of the covers and stretching, letting the tension melt from her. She held her hands out, and he joined her, rolling easily to cover her body with his much larger one.
The feel of her against him was enough to wake up his body and remind him how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside ofher, how badly he wanted to taste her, every inch. He rolled back to his back and pulled her forward, up, over his face, so that her thighs warmed his ears, and he sank his hands greedily into her plump, round cheeks.
“Girion!”
