Despite my concern, I find myself biting back a grin. I recognize a thinly veiled excuse when I hear one.
Thunder cracks, shaking the walls, and she flinches, confirming my suspicions. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she replies, but I can see through the lie. She’s frightened but too proud to admit it.
I hate seeing her afraid. Fierce protectiveness surges through me, and it takes all my restraint not to pull her into my arms and hold her close.
She bites her lower lip, her gaze sweeping toward the hearth where the fire has burned down to mere embers. “There’s more food. If you’re still hungry,” she offers.
I shake my head. “I’m fine, Vivienne.”
She shifts restlessly, clearly searching for another excuse, another reason to stay.
So, I decide to help her. “I can’t sleep,” I lie. “If you’re not too tired, I could use some company.”
A flicker of relief flashes across her face before she can hide it, but then her gaze darts to the bed and her expression falters slightly, probably assuming I mean to have her sleep beside me.
Before she can panic, I motion toward the sofa by the fire. “What do you say?”
She nods and steps inside without hesitation. She’s dressed in only her shift, with a thin shawl.
I guide her to the couch and then quickly go to her room, retrieving her blankets. I carefully drape them around her, to make sure she’s warm, before I return my attention to the fireplace, coaxing the embers back into a roaring blaze.
The warmth of the fire chases away the chill, illuminating her lovely face and her long red hair.
She truly is the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen.
When I’m finished, I pour her a cup of tea, still warm in the pot from her lavish dinner, and hand it to her. “Here. That should help keep you warm.”
The tea seems to soothe her. After she finishes the first cup, I pour her another, watching in satisfaction as some of the tension leaves her shoulders. “Are you warm enough?” I ask. “Comfortable?”
She nods as she stares down at the cup, a look akin to guilt crossing her lovely features. “I… shouldn’t have ordered so much food earlier.” She glances around the space. “It was wasteful. Along with the extra room.”
I’m stunned by her admission. “It’s alright. This is a rather big change for you, I’m sure.”
Vivienne gives me a reluctant nod. “I suppose I’ll need to learn how to live… more modestly than I’m used to.”
While I’m glad for her new awareness, I don’t want her to worry about the future. “You won’t want for anything. My vow.”
She smiles, but I see the doubt in her eyes, and I understand. This is a very different life than what she had in her father's palace. But she needs to learn this, just as my father once taught my brother and me.
He would take us out of the castle when we were boys, not on grand processions, but without fanfare, walking the market streets and the farming villages so we would know our people's faces. So we would never mistake comfort for the whole of the world.
I can still picture the way he moved through those streets, stopping to speak with anyone who approached him. He never looked like a king trying to appear humble. He simply was.
I miss him every day, but I’m thankful he shaped me before I lost him. It is the greatest gift he gave me.
“I’ve never stayed somewhere like this before.” Vivienne sighs, pulling me back from my memories. “It’s… an adjustment.”
I bite back a grin. “I imagined as much.”
She narrows her eyes, but her lips twitch, giving her away.
Even when she’s irritated, she still finds me amusing, and I count it as progress.
“The few times I traveled with my father,” she says, “we always stayed in the local Lord or Lady’s estate. Never inns or taverns.”
“I suppose you never camped either,” I venture.
