"She comes by it honestly," I tease.
He says nothing to that but I feel something move through him that is warm. My thoughts are interrupted by a small grunt and I look down to see Kiss has also fallen asleep, milk dribbling down her chin as she snores softly. “Let me put them down," he says. "And I will come back."
He rises from the bath and takes them both, one at a time, placing them into their baskets near the window since the bassinets have not yet been brought up. He moves quietly, with the particular attention of someone who understands that a sleeping child is something to be protected.
Then he comes back.
He gets into the bath behind me and leans back against the edge, his eyes closing. The weight of the road leaves him slowly. I can see it happening, the way it always does when he lets himself stop moving for the first time in too long.
I reach for the soap. He does not say anything. His head lowers slightly as my hands move through his hair and the tension held in the back of his neck eases under my fingers the way it always does when he has decided to let something happen.
I press my mouth briefly against his jaw.
"There is something very attractive," I say, "about a man who abandons his responsibilities to look at flowers with me."
Something moves through his face. Not quite a smile, but close enough.
We stay there until the water cools.
I had brought the herbs from Shalvar. I am not entirely certain why. The last time we had spoken of them I had told him I was not sure I wanted them, and then everything had overtaken us and neither of us had returned to it. I suppose I brought them the way you bring something you have not decided about yet.
He says quietly, "Did you bring the herbs?"
"Yes," I say.
He is quiet.
"Why?" I press.
"I just..." A pause. "We have not discussed it. Not properly since that night in the throne room.”
"Then let us discuss it now," I say. "I wish to know what you want. Not what you think I want. And do not feign ambivalence, Colsar. I dislike it when you do that."
He turns to look at me. "You are starting to know me well."
He draws in a breath. "It is not ambivalence. It is respect. I do not wish you to have a life you do not want, or to do things you are not comfortable with."
"We have talked about you deciding for me?—"
"And I am working on it," he says, sharper. Then quieter. "It is not always easy, Asha." Then lower still. "I told you I was fine with whatever you want and that is true. But if you are asking me what I want, I want more. Now, or whenever. I will not be upset if it takes a day or weeks or months or even years.”
He exhales. “And I would never hold it against you to say no. There is danger everywhere and you almost died the last time.”
He pauses.
"And if we are working on my vulnerability, I will admit this." He looks away. "I want to experience more this time. I missed most of your pregnancy." I thread my fingers through his, knowing this does not come easily to him.
"I missed the birth of my children."
"They will not remember," I say quietly. "You were busy saving us."
"I know. It is not something I dwell on." His voice is careful. "I only look forward to being able to see all of it, next time. And to show you that I can be present.”
He runs a hand through his wet hair. "I did not even get to be the first person to find out the news," he says. "That you were with child."
I look at him. "You are not normal," I say. "Most men do not care about such things."
He looks back at me. "Most men do not have you."
