I swallowed the bile rising to my throat at the memory of our wedding night and all his weekly visits that followed, when he would pin me under him in my bed and frantically shove his softening cock into me in a rush to “deposit his seed” and hope that “gods will bless our union with an offspring this time.” I still smelled his breath, tinted with the pungent scent of all the herbs and potions that his healers would feed him to ensure he was able to perform his marital duties despite his advanced age and failing health.
Grat kissed my hair, banishing the vile memories for the time being.
I found his eyes. “I never got pregnant, despite all his efforts. I don’t know if I can bear children, even as I would love to have them with you.”
“I don’t care, Khala.” He shook his head. “I really don’t. I just want you.”
Tenderness flooded me. It was a heady feeling to be accepted so fully and unconditionally.
“So, you do have a husband?” Agor asked.
“I did,” I said. “He died of old age ten years ago. At his funeral, Reizon proposed to me again. But I was three years older and that much wiser by then. I realized that Reizon’s biggest motivation wasn’t his love for me but his ambition, and I refused his proposal. As a widow, I no longer needed my parents’ permission and could make my own decisions. By law, a woman can’t hold property in the Avilet Kingdom. My husband’s estate would’ve become the crown’s property, but he left a son. Because of Rolly’s condition, my late husband appointed me as Rolly’s legal guardian in his will. That gave me the right to manage the estate in Rolly’s name. It also gave me more freedom than a woman could ever dream of in our kingdom. For ten years, I was my own mistress. I ran the estate and took care of Rolly with whom I became very close, closer than my own family ever was with me.”
Sadness gripped my heart, and I closed my eyes for a moment to fight it. Grat’s gentle squeeze of my hand gave me the strength to continue.
“Last summer, Rolly got sick.” My throat closed off with approaching tears, and I had to force my words out. “He passed away over two months ago. His death devastated me. I mourned him. I still am. He had a simple mind, but I learned so much from him. He taught me to find joy in everyday things, to live in the moment, and to laugh freely. I’ll always miss him…” I inhaled deeply, struggling to keep my composure. “Like a vulture sensing its next meal, Reizon was right there again, at the funeral. Only he was far more persistent this time. He told me I had no choice but to marry him. Without a male heir,my husband’s estate went to the crown. I could take whatever I wished with me, but I couldn’t keep the land and couldn’t continue living at the palace.”
“Did you marry the duke?” Becca asked.
“He claimed you did,” Agor added.
I shook my head vehemently. “Having a cold, ruthless man like Reizon for a husband was unthinkable to me. When he asked me to marry him again, I refused. Then he told me that we already were husband and wife anyway because he had married me by proxy.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Grat cursed.
“The Avilet Kingdom has a law that allows people to get married even when they are away from each other. Someone else can stand in place of the bride or the groom. For example, a friend of the couple can marry the bride in the groom’s name. This way, the bride can then make the often long and perilous journey to her new home under the full protection of her husband.
“So does an unmarried woman have no protection then?” Becca asked.
“No. Whether you’re a princess or a peasant, a woman is only valued as much as she is worth to a man,” I echoed the words my mother had said to me long ago, genuinely believing she was helping me define my place in the world. “You’re not from the Avilet Kingdom, are you?” I asked Becca.
“No. I was born in the foothills of the mountains, away from any royal courts. Sadly, many from my village would still agree with that view on a woman’s worth. I lived as a single woman for years, and I heard that shit often, and I’m not even a princess.”
“You don’t need to be a princess. You’re my queen.” Agor pulled her into his side, placing a kiss on her cheek.
She shifted her sword into her other hand, leaning into him with a smile.
That was what I wanted—closeness without coercion, love without conditions, being with someone just because I wanted to be with him, not because I had to. And with Grat, I believed I could have all of that.
“So the duke married you without you even being there?” Becca shook her head at the audacity of that move.
“He did,” I replied, returning to my story. “Reizon had someone else stand for me during the wedding ceremony he organized without my knowledge or consent, then proclaimed himself my husband. I told him I didn’t want to be his wife, but he didn’t listen. I said I wouldn’t consummate that sham of a marriage, but he did it anyway…on the day of Rolly’s funeral.”
Grat’s chest expanded with a sharp breath.
“Too bad the dog killed him,” he gritted through his teeth. “I would’ve loved to do it myself, and I wouldn’t make it quick.”
I splayed my hand on his wide, hard chest, feeling his strength and his warmth through the touch.
“Well, the rest you know,” I finished, sparing him any further details. I only wished all those details would eventually fade from my memories too.
“The duke said you were attacked on the way to his lands,” Agor prompted. “And that the attackers abducted you, taking you from him.”
“He said that?” I scoffed. “The only attack that happened was him trying to force himself on me again when the caravan stopped for the night on the way to his estate. I stabbed him with his own dagger and ran away. I figured I’d rather die alone in the wilderness than live as his wife. What I didn’t realize was how strong my will to survive was. I managed to stay alive for several weeks on my own before I saw Grat, and his sausage tempted me to come closer.”
Agor snorted a laugh. “That’s a very tempting sausage you have there, Grat.”
Becca rolled her eyes with a smile. And my face flushed with heat.
