The grass in the field flicked against my legs as Branford led me to a low wooden building I had seen before only from our bedroom window.  My fingers were around his right arm, and wrapped around his left wrist was a thin leather cord.  At the end of the cord was Amarra, walking smoothly next to Branford with her eyes turned up to his.  She matched his pace perfectly and kept her focus on my husband as if waiting for his command.

We entered the field near the edge of the woods, and Branford whistled long and loud.  Within only a few moments, four large, reddish-brown dogs were barreling toward us.  I took a step closer to my husband, pushing my side against his.  I felt his lips touch the top of my head but only briefly.  As the dogs neared, he dropped down close to Amarra and slowly removed the leather strap from around her neck.

“Will she not run away?” I asked.

“Not if she understands this is her pack and that she will be cared for here,” Branford replied.  “She will have no reason to go anywhere else.”

I watched the other four dogs as they came near the bitch.  I giggled at their apparently normal greetings of sniffing and licking.  They walked around each other, and Amarra spun around in a circle as well, paying most attention to the largest of the four male dogs.

“Argo is the oldest and largest,” Branford said as he pointed to the one I had been watching.  His coat was darker red than the others, and when he shook his head, his flopping ears turned inside out, giving him a comic appearance.  “The others look to him when I am not here.  Next is Atlas, who could probably be the leader of the pack if he could be bothered, but he is usually too busy chasing noises in the woods.  The two smaller ones are Helo and Major.”

Argo was intent on making the other pack members keep their distance from Amarra, their new member.  He only positioned himself between her and the other dogs at first but then became more aggressive.  He growled a little as the others came closer and even snapped at one of the younger dogs, which made me jump.

“He just wants to make sure the others know she belongs to him,” Branford informed me.

 “Does he have to be so…so…cruel about it?”

“Cruel?” Branford chuckled.  He moved closer behind me, and his hands brushed lightly over my arms.

“He snaps at the others before they even get close,” I said.

“Does he?”

“Sometimes.”

“He will likely do it again,” Branford surmised.  “He can be quite jealous.”

Branford tightened his grip on my shoulders as he leaned close and whispered in my ear.  I was instantly reminded of the first time he took me to meet Romero and our conversation in the stables.   There he had also pulled me back against his chest and spoke gently into my ear—like he was now.

“Sometimes he is afraid he may lose her,” he said, his voice so soft I could only barely hear him.  He circled my waist with his arm.  “When he thinks of what his life would be without her now, he can be irrational.”

“She…she would never look to another,” I replied as I turned my cheek to touch his.  “This is her home now, and she wants only him.”

“She hardly knows him.”

“She has learned much in a short time,” I told him.  I turned my head further so I could see his eyes, his heavy brows pulled down over them.  I reached up to touch his smooth cheek.  “She knows him quite well.”

“Do I still frighten you?” he asked, dropping the pretense.

“No,” I answered him.  “I know you would not hurt me.”

“Alexandra,” he murmured as he pulled me closer to his body.  “You have been…truly…I cannot…”

He sighed and took a slight step back, separating us enough for him to turn me to face him.  He cupped the side of my face as he stared into my eyes.

“Alexandra, I—”

Behind us, the sound of someone clearing his throat halted Branford’s words.  Branford sighed, seeming more exasperated than angry as he turned around.  Both Dunstan and Colin were there, their heads bowed slightly.  Colin fidgeted from one foot to the other.

“My apologies, sire,” Dunstan said with a nod.  “There is a matter that…needs your attention.”

Branford narrowed his eyes at the young man, and for a moment, they seemed to be having an unspoken conversation.

“Of course,” he finally answered.  “Alexandra, forgive me.  Colin will take you back to our rooms.”

I looked from Branford to Dunstan and tried not to show too much concern as I nodded, and Colin—the young man who guarded me when Dunstan was otherwise occupied—led me back to the castle.  Janet greeted me and asked if I was ready for a meal, but I had no appetite.  Dunstan’s sudden appearance had me on edge, and I didn’t know what to think of it.

Branford never liked it when we were interrupted, yet he had not been at all angry with Dunstan when he approached us.  His uncharacteristic acceptance of the intrusion was too out of character for my moody husband.  It worried me, but I could not think of anything Dunstan would have had to say that was so urgent.

A knock at the door startled me out of my thoughts, and I quickly went through the archway into the morning room to open it.  My eyes went wide when I opened the door to find King Camden standing on the other side.

As far as I knew, he had not come to our rooms since Branford had brought me from Hadebrand.  I had no idea what might have prompted his visit now.  In my shock, I simply stood with my hand on the door and stared at him until he cleared his throat and raised his brows at me.

“Alexandra,” he said, “are you quite all right?”

“Yes, my king,” I replied automatically.  Then I realized I was still standing there gawking at him.  “Oh!  My king!  I am sorry!  Please, come in.”

“Thank you.”

“Branford is not here,” I told him.  “He stayed behind with his dogs…”

King Camden walked into the room and just looked at me, a wry grin on his face.  I realized how silly I sounded and felt my cheeks flush.  I closed the door softly.

“May I fix you some tea?” I finally asked.

“No, thank you, Alexandra,” King Camden said.  “I really just came to speak with you.”

Speak with me?  What would the king wish to discuss with me?  I felt my chest tighten in panic.

“Of course, my king,” I said softly.

“Alexandra,” King Camden said with a slight shake of his head, “we are behind closed doors, and you are married to my adopted son.  You may refer to me as Camden.”

I was not sure if I could, but I still nodded to him.

“In fact, it is about Branford I wished to speak,” he said.

“About Branford?” I echoed.

“Yes,” he said, and his mouth turned up into a wide grin.  I had not noticed the resemblance between the king and my husband before, but their smiles were definitely the same.  “And about what you have done to him.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I felt panic tighten my limbs.  What had I done to Branford that would cause the king of all of Silverhelm to come to our rooms?  Was it about Janet and bringing her back here?  Was it about Branford touching me during the time of isolation?

“My king?” I whispered, for they were the only words I could form.

“It is not a bad thing, Alexandra,” King Camden said softly.  “Quite the contrary, in fact.”

“What have I done to Branford?” I asked, truly confused now.

“I have never seen him so taken with another human being,” Camden said softly.  “His horse, yes, and even his dogs, but never a person—never a woman.  He has not allowed himself to feel for anyone in so long…”

The king’s voice trailed off, and I was not sure if I should respond to him or if I should keep quiet.

“And you care for him too, do you not?”

His bright blue eyes were so intense as he looked at me, for a moment, I could not respond.

“Yes, my king.”  I took a deep breath and corrected myself.  “Camden.”

He laughed through his nose, another trait I likened to Branford, and just as quickly as his nephew often did, his mood changed and his eyes darkened.

“He is haunted by his past,” Camden said.  “Do you realize this?”

“Yes, my king.”

“He takes his anger out on my people.”

I looked up to Camden’s eyes again and saw the sadness inside.

“He is my only heir,” Camden said.  “Sunniva and I were not able to have our own children, and there was a time I thought I would have to take more…‘drastic measures’ to obtain a suitable heir.  It would have hurt Sunniva so much if I had.  When Branford and Ida came to us, Sunniva took them both in as her own.  Since he was already of my blood, I had my son and heir.  I could not love him more if he were my true son and not my nephew, but that has not always been in the best interest of my people.  I have allowed many of his transgressions, even when they were to the detriment of others, in hopes that he would somehow come to terms with his mistrust and anger before it could do true harm.”

Camden walked slowly toward the window and looked out onto the castle grounds.

“I feared his anger would put my people at undue risk, and it still may,” he said, continuing, “but for the first time, I feel there is hope for Silverhelm and its future king.”

He took a step toward me and placed his finger under my chin.

“You have given me that hope, Alexandra.”

“I have?”  My voice was barely a whisper.

“In only a handful of days, you have already tempered him,” Camden said.  “When he speaks of you, there is a light in his eyes I have not seen since he was a small boy—since before my brother and his wife were killed.”

My mind recounted Branford’s tale of being trapped inside the bench seat of a carriage while his parents were murdered, his mother brutalized.  How could such a thing not affect a small child, even as he grew into adulthood?  He could not trust others, for those closest to him had betrayed him so viciously, leaving him scarred inside his heart.  But who had truly been behind it?

“Was it King Edgar?” I asked with trepidation.  I knew so little of my king’s personality, and I feared my question was too forward.  He did not seem affronted as he answered.

“There is no evidence,” he said and then sighed.  “The four men responsible had been in my brother’s employ for many years when they turned traitorous.  We do not know if they were enemies of the Sterlings from the very beginning or if they were influenced later.  Branford has his suspicions, yes, but he has no direct evidence.  I am more inclined to believe Edgar jumped on an opportunistic time to seize nearby lands rather than caused my brother’s death.”

Camden sighed deeply and cast his gaze out the window again.

“I have to believe that way,” he said quietly.  “If I were to accuse another royal family as Branford has done, it would be seen as an act of war.  I do not want to bring my people to war when I cannot be sure of the reason.  Branford is a fighter—a soldier—but he has not seen true war in his young life.  I have.  I understand the consequences, and he does not.  He has only had revenge on his mind until he brought you here as his wife.”

The king stepped close to me and reached out to take my hand in his.

“I came here to thank you for that, Alexandra,” King Camden said, “and to beg you to…to continue whatever it is you are doing that makes my son so happy.”

“Of course, my king.”  I knew I was blushing, for I had a fair guess as to the reason Branford was happy in my company.  I remembered Camden’s eyes when he spotted our behavior at the dinner table, and felt even more heat on my face.

“I will take my leave of you now,” Camden said.  He tilted his head toward me, released my hand, and turned to walk out of the room.  He paused briefly at the table just inside the door where my mother’s bowl sat on display.  I had not yet decided what should be put inside of it.

“Where did you get this bowl?” he asked.

“It was given to me when I was young,” I said quietly, for he still made me quite nervous.  “It was my mother’s.  At least, that’s what the nuns said.”

“You are from Eagle?”

“Yes, sire.”

“What were the names of your parents?”

“Conway and Rebecca Fay, sire,” I told him.  “That’s what the nuns told me, at least—I don’t really remember.  So many people were dying then.”

King Camden’s fingers ran along the edge of the bowl.

“I remember being served the most interesting stew from this very bowl,” he said softly.  I strained my ears.  Had I heard him right?  “She said it was one of the first ones she had made and had always been her favorite, so she would never sell it.  The stew she served was a strange concoction of flavors and not exactly tasteful.”

Camden laughed softly.

“But the bowls—they were beautiful.”  He nodded his head twice and then held the bowl out for me to take.  “Rebecca Fay offered me a meal from this same bowl, Alexandra—I am sure of it.  She must have been nearly ready to give birth to you, but she kept working because her bowls were in such high demand.”

He smiled gently at me, which was not an expression I had seen on his face before.

“Her cooking left something to be desired”—King Camden laughed, but not unkindly—“but she was extremely generous and kind.  I didn’t speak to Conway for long.  He returned from working in the fields just as I was leaving, but he seemed a well-mannered and gentle soul.”

He turned to look me over, his expression thoughtful.

“You must have been quite young when so many in the village fell to plague.  Perhaps it was not by accident but by divine design.  By the grace of God, perhaps you were spared to come to Branford when he needed one such as you by his side.”

He nodded again, then turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.  I sat in the chair near the fire and contemplated his words.  Did he truly believe I was here for such a purpose?  To save the people of Silverhelm from their future king’s wrath?  Had I not had similar thoughts myself?

I found myself smiling, thinking that if this were my role, at least I had some inkling as to what my duties would entail.  Picking up the kettle, I filled it with clear water and placed it over the fire.  When Branford came back from his discussion with his guard, it would be ready for him.

I would be ready for him.

Janet followed me back to our rooms after the evening meal and helped me remove my dress and put on the nightdress Branford favored—the one with the laces in the front, which never stayed tied for long.  I blushed at the thought and then dismissed Janet to her room for the night.  I reheated the kettle and took a seat in the chair near the fire.

A while later, I went to sit on the edge of the bed since it was a bit more comfortable.

As the sun set and the evening breeze cooled, I lay back on the pillows.

An hour later, I climbed under the blankets to ward off the chill night air.

Branford did not return before I fell asleep.  Alone.

*****

The next morning, Branford slept at my side though I had not heard him come in during the night.  I rose quietly, unsure how long he had even been asleep.  I dressed, made his tea, and then watched the water cool.  Finally deciding he was not going to wake any time soon and also not wishing to disturb him, I went to the kitchens to find breakfast.  Janet was there, smiling her good morning and offering me some tea.  I took the steaming cup from her, and we spoke of the morning’s itinerary.

Branford did not wake until nearly midday.  When he did, he was groggy, distant, and short-tempered.  He seemed pleased when I offered to bring him his meal to our rooms, but when Janet helped me carry some of it to him, he snapped at her almost immediately.

“You are supposed to be my wife’s handmaid,” he yelled at her.  “It does not mean you spend all your time in our rooms!  You may come in here to dress her and possibly to undress her if I am otherwise occupied and unable to do it myself!”

Janet cringed at his harsh words, and when I tried to speak to him, he snapped at me as well.

“I am not discussing this with you, Alexandra!” he yelled.  “Get her out of here, or I’ll remove her permanently!”

Janet scurried out of the room without further prompting, and Branford plopped into the chair by the fire and dropped his head into his hands.  Unsure of what to do, I prepared his plate in silence and set it on the table closest to him.  As I started to back away, Branford reached out and wrapped his hand around my wrist.  He pulled me toward him and then placed me sideways on his lap.  He wrapped his arms tightly around me and held me close to his chest.

“I never should have allowed her to return with us,” he mumbled against the top of my head.  “I do not like having her here…in my way.”

“How is she in your way?” I asked.

“When she is here, I cannot touch you the way I wish,” he said with a growl, and I felt his hand reach down under my skirts.  He gripped my bare thigh with his fingers but did not venture farther.  Instead, he brought me in close to his chest again.  He was silent for some time.

“Branford, what has upset you?” I finally asked when the silence became too much.

He blew a long breath, ruffling the hair on the top of my head.

“Nothing, my wife,” he said softly.  “Nothing you need to worry about anyway.”

I nodded slightly, wishing he would tell me what was obviously bothering him but knowing he would not.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Yes,” he responded, “but I do not wish to eat just yet.”

I nodded again and fell silent.  He held me like that for many minutes before he finally decided to take his meal though he did not eat as heartily as he usually did.  I hoped he was not feeling ill.

“I need to go to Sawyer,” he announced as he finished his meal.

I looked down at my hands.

“How long will you be gone?” I asked.

“I want you with me,” he said with conviction.  “I will not have you out of my sight—not now.”

“Not now?” I repeated.  Branford looked up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time since he woke.

“I need to know you are safe,” he finally said.  “Safe means with me.”

I spent the rest of the day in the stuffy carriage with my husband, who refused to explain to me what was going on or why we were going to Sawyer other than to say he needed to speak with Parnell.  Once we got there, his conversation lasted all of fifteen minutes, and we were heading back to the carriage again.

I did not understand his behavior at all.

“Are you sure they will be ready?” Branford said softly to Parnell as we were about to depart.

“Of course, Branford,” Sir Parnell said as he clasped his hand on Branford’s shoulder.  “I will not let you down.”

Branford took my hand and assisted me into the carriage.  I settled back for another long ride, for it would be nearly nightfall by the time we reached our home.  Branford was again silent and brooding.  He reached out and took my hand, holding it between his as we rode along, but when questioned, he would not offer me an explanation.

We had been riding in silence for some time when the carriage suddenly veered to one side and then came to an abrupt stop.  Branford’s brow furrowed, and he leaned over to open the door slightly and peek outside.  He swore under his breath.

“Bandits,” Branford said with a snarl.  He placed his hand on my shoulder for a brief second before he stood and headed out the carriage door.  I heard him shouting as soon as the door closed again, but I could not hear his words.  With the coming darkness and the closed carriage door, I could not make out what was happening at all.  I rose from the bench and made my way outside.

It happened so quickly, I felt as though I had barely had time to blink before it was over.  First, I was coming out of the carriage, and Branford had his sword drawn against one of the robbers, and he seemed prepared to run the man through.  There was already another body lying on the side of the road, a few feet from them.  I saw Branford thrust his sword forward and then draw it back, covered in the blood of the man in front of him.

That was when I felt rough fingers gripping my upper arm and pulling me toward the front of the carriage.  I screamed, and Branford turned, his eyes wide as the gruff man placed his knife against my throat.

I had never seen Branford so obviously terrified.

He clenched the hilt of his sword and started to take a step forward. The man holding me screamed at him as the blade pressed against my neck.

“Stop where you are!” he yelled out.  “I will slice her open!  I swear it!”

“Do not harm her,” Branford said.  The strain in his voice was evident.  He crouched, and in surrender, slowly laid his sword on the ground.  “Tell me what you want, and I shall make it happen.”

“What I want?”  The man laughed a harsh laugh.  “I would like to see—”

With a thump, the man’s body was thrown away from me and into the road.  I screamed, unable to help myself, as I turned to see the driver—the same man who had driven us to Silverhelm directly after our wedding—grappling with my attacker.

The two men rolled, and Branford regained his sword just as I heard the carriage driver gasp.  For a moment, our gazes met—the driver’s eyes as wide as mine.  His mouth dropped open, and he gasped before his head dropped back to the ground.

The bandit had just begun to rise when Branford’s sword cleaved through half of his neck, spurting blood over the ground and the side of the carriage.  I felt bile rise to my throat at the sight; my vision blurred, and it sounded like my head was under water.  I could not breathe, and I slumped to the ground.

As the darkness faded from my vision, I felt a warm hand against my cheek.  I slowly opened my eyes to Branford’s panicked gaze.

“Alexandra!  Please, say something!”

“Branford…”  It seemed all I could manage.

“Thank you, God in heaven,” Branford mumbled.  “Are you hurt?”

“I do not think so,” I replied.  I tried to sit up, but Branford held me down.

“Do not try to move, Alexandra,” he said.  “Just stay here.  I want to check on the carriage driver.”

Images flooded back into my head, and I ignored Branford’s words and pulled myself from the ground.  Only a few feet away, I could see Branford crouched near one side of the carriage driver—his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife, its blade buried in the driver’s chest.

“Is she all right?”  The poor man coughed as he tried to speak.

“She is unharmed,” Branford told him.  “You likely saved her life.”

I moved to them and dropped to the ground.  I kneeled close to the driver’s shoulders and gently placed his head on my skirts.

“I am fine.” I tried to speak calmly, but my voice betrayed me.  He nodded and tried to draw breath, but it was ragged and uneven.  Branford placed his other hand on the man’s chest, around the entry point of the blade.

“If I remove it, death will only come faster,” Branford said softly.

“We can do nothing?”  Tears flowed freely down my cheeks.  Branford merely shook his head slowly from side to side before leaning close to the man on the ground.

“What is your name?” Branford asked.  His voice was soft and earnest and reminded me of how he spoke to me when he was trying to ease my fears.

“Thomas, sire.”

“Do you have a family, Thomas?”

“Yes…sire.  My…my wife.  Our daughter is grown now...moved to Wynton.”  He coughed again, and I turned my head as blood sprayed from his mouth.

“What is your wife’s name?”

“Samantha…sire.” He gasped and his muscles tensed.  “She worked in the fields, but she is lame now…What will happen to her?”

“Do not fear for her,” Branford said.  “You have saved my wife from certain harm, and I am forever in your debt, Thomas.  Samantha shall come to live with us in the castle.”

“Thank you, sire.”  The man reached up and grasped Branford’s forearm, but he looked into my eyes.  “You will be a…a good king…with her at your side.”

His hand fell and his head slumped at the same time, and he did not take another breath.  Branford pulled me up from the ground, insisting we get back to the castle as soon as possible.

“We cannot just leave him!” I cried as tears continued down my cheeks.

“I have to keep you safe!”  Branford took my face in his hands.  “I will send for his body—I promise you—but I will make you safe first.  If you are harmed, he died for nothing.”

Branford took the harness attached to the carriage horses and placed me near the withers before he climbed on behind me.  He wrapped his arm around me and his fingers gripped the reins.  A moment later, we were galloping back up the road to Castle Silverhelm.

We rode fast with Branford’s arm wrapped tightly around my center, holding me back against his chest as we sped through the darkening sky.  As I looked from one edge of the road to the other, I could not help but imagine what might be out there—who might be out there—watching us and waiting.  Images of Thomas would not leave my mind, and silent tears fell sporadically as Branford’s lips touched the side of my face, and his whispered words attempted to bring me comfort.

I nearly cried out in relief when the castle gates loomed up ahead.  I was given to Dunstan to watch over as soon as we arrived at the castle’s entrance, and Branford went immediately to speak with Camden.

He did not return to me that night though he was in our bed come morning.   He did not stir at all in his sleep when I rose, and I did not wish to disturb his rest, so I left our rooms quietly.  Colin and another guard I did not recognize were outside our doors.  They both watched over me at a respectable distance as I ate breakfast with Janet and went to the marketplace to find more of the right color thread to finish Branford’s baldric.

Branford had apparently awakened and had already left our rooms when I returned.  I sat with Janet and Sunniva in the Women’s Room, embroidering and speaking of sewing and cooking.  I managed to finish the baldric and asked Sunniva when she thought I should give it to him.

“His birthday is next month,” Sunniva told me.  “It would be a fine gift.”

I smiled, glad I had asked.  It had not even occurred to me to ask the day of his birth.  After all, birthdays were only celebrated by those of noble blood, and I had never even had the need to know my own.  I only knew that I was born shortly after harvest.

I returned to our rooms with the baldric and embroidered blanket wrapped in a large leather sack.  Branford had not come back, and I decided to go looking for him in the most obvious place—the field near the horse stables, where he was likely either with his horse or his dogs.  I tried to ignore the two men who followed me nearly everywhere I went, but it was difficult to become accustomed to their presence.

When I reached the field, the dog pack was near the edge of the woods, sniffing at the trails and chasing squirrels.  Romero was nowhere to be seen, so I walked toward the stable.

Branford was inside along with Dunstan and another man dressed as a forester.  My husband stood with one hand on his sword and his other hand in his hair, pulling at the tips like he often did when he was upset or concerned.

“Four hundred of them, sire,” Dunstan was saying.  “How could they possibly amass such a number in such a short time?”

“It makes no sense,” Branford said, seeming to agree.  “Are you sure of the numbers?”

“Positive, sire,” the forester said.

“In that location, it could hardly be anyone else,” Branford said.

I stepped through the doorway, and all three heads turned to me.  I felt warmth in my cheeks and wondered if I would continue to blush like a child every time my husband’s eyes met mine.

“Alexandra,” he said.  “What brings you here?”

“I was looking for you,” I said and suddenly felt foolish.  I looked back to the way I had come, wondering if I should just leave him and return on my own.  I decided to at least bring up a practical matter so I didn’t appear to have come out here for no real reason at all.  “It is nearly dinnertime.”

Branford glanced back to his companions and then walked to me, taking my hands in his.

“Of course it is,” he said quietly.  “Let’s return to the castle and get you fed, my beautiful wife.”

His lips touched the edge of my cheek for only a moment before he took my arm and led me back to the castle.  He had our meal brought to our rooms and spoke of the dogs and the horses as we ate.  As soon as the meal was finished, he stood to leave.

“I must speak with Camden,” Branford said.  “I’ll return shortly.”

“You will be here then?” I asked timidly.  “In the night, I mean?”

“Yes, of course.”

“It’s just…you haven’t been.”

He looked at me darkly.

“Do not concern yourself with such things, Alexandra,” he said.  “It will only cause you stress.”

I lowered my gaze to the floor and felt my teeth sink into my lip.  Branford touched my chin and he tilted my face to look at him.  His eyes held such a strange and sad expression.  I did not know what to make of it.

“I will return to you,” he said.  “I swear it.”

Several hours later, when I had nearly given up, he did return.  He took me to our bed and held me tight against him as he lay on top of me, burying himself within me and crying out my name as he filled me.  His mouth left soft kisses on my neck, but when he looked up to my face, I could still see the sadness in his eyes.

“Please, Branford,” I begged.  “Please tell me.”

He shook his head slowly as he rolled onto his back, taking me with him and cradling my head on his chest.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered into the night.  “I will tell you tomorrow.”

*****

Romero slowed to a trot as we entered the meadow where Branford and I had spent time before.  He had barely spoken on the ride here though he brought me to the stables because he had something to tell me.  So far, he had not made conversation, and I did not wish to push him if he was not ready.

After our dismount, Branford removed Romero’s saddle from his back and released him.  Romero wandered off to the far side of the meadow near a stand of bright purple clover flowers.  Branford took my hand and led me to the center of the meadow, laying Romero’s saddle blanket on the ground before us.

He did not speak as he took my mouth with his or as he pushed my dress from me.  His movements were hurried and desperate, which I could only assume was due to the lack of physical attention over the past two days.  He had come back to our rooms so late, I was already half-asleep, and he still slept long after I woke in the morning.  Since the day we took Amarra to meet the rest of his pack, Branford had only laid a hand on me once—just the night before—and it had been quick.

He made up for it now.

He pushed my dress down and away then cupped my breasts and brought them to his mouth.  He kissed, sucked, and licked until I was squirming on the blanket below him.  Branford paused only briefly to remove his own clothing before bringing his hands back to my bare skin, determined to run his fingers over every inch of my body.

His touch slowed, and his hands ran from my shoulders to my hips and back again.  His mouth followed the trails his fingers made until it found mine, and he kissed me deeply.  I felt his hand between my legs, pushing me open for him.  His long fingers found me ready for him, and he wasted little time.

Branford circled around the back of my thigh with his fingers, and he brought my leg nearly to his shoulder as he pushed inside of me, connecting us again and making me feel so wonderfully full and wanted.  He sighed my name as he entered; his mouth covered my nipples, and as he sucked on them, I reached for his hips, placing my hands on his backside and pulling his body into mine.

“Oh…Alexandra…”  He moved his mouth in circles around my breasts and his hand grasped the back of my head.  He brought his lips to mine, and his tongue ran over them for a moment before he trailed kisses over my chin and down my neck.  He moved expertly within me, choosing the perfect rhythm and alternating the speed and depths of his penetrations.

“Branford!” I cried out as his hips circled, creating pressure exactly where I needed it most, and my body seemed to explode in pleasure.  Branford began rocking back and forth faster, his strokes longer and deeper until he growled against the hollow of my throat, held himself deep within me, and called out my name once more.

With his head nestled near my neck, Branford stroked lightly with his fingers over my arms, up to my shoulders, and back over my breasts before resting his hand against my stomach.  I gazed at his face and found his eyes closed, his lips moving silently.  I had noticed before that Branford prayed every time he took my body though I had never asked for what he might be praying.

He opened his eyes slowly and smiled up at me though his expression was not carefree.  He seemed anxious when he was usually his most relaxed after his release.  His chest rose as he took a breath, and Branford traced the edge of my jaw with the tip of his finger as his breathing continued to slow.  He placed an additional light kiss against my neck before sitting up and beginning to gather our clothing.  He said we would need to head back soon, for we needed to speak with Sunniva though he did not give the reason.

“I wanted to be the one to teach you to read,” Branford said suddenly as he pulled his shirt over his head and shoved his arms through the sleeves, “but I fear I will have to turn the task over to a proper tutor.”

I laced up my dress and was about to ask him why he had changed his mind, but he continued before I had the chance.

“We will need to discuss the nobility of the surrounding lands as well,” he told me.  “I will need to teach you which areas are truly friendly to Silverhelm and which only pretend to be.  I need you to know whom I can truly trust, who can be trusted only to a degree, and who should be avoided—even those within the court here.  Thankfully, Amarra is well-trained.  I’m going to move her into our rooms tonight if you are still agreeable.”

“Yes, of course.”  I did not understand his sudden sense of urgency, but the look in his eyes bade me not argue.  He reached out and gently traced the side of my face.  His eyes narrowed, and his expression was pained.

“I’m a fool, Alexandra.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because choosing a wife was probably one of the more important decisions I could have made, and I treated it with such…indifference.  Now that you are here, I realize how important my choice was and how I should have gone about it.  I have done it all wrong.”

I looked down at my hands.  Though I had assumed he probably would not have chosen me if he had realized how inept I truly was when it came to matters of the court, I had not actually heard him voice it.  My stomach clenched, and for the first time since our marriage was complete, I began to wonder if this was going to be the end of it—was he going to tell me now that it was all a grave mistake?  After everything he had done, I had not thought such a thing possible any longer, but the reality was I was still a commoner, and he was a prince.  He had every right to have me removed.

The fear this thought evoked went far beyond my uncertain station.

“I should have thought about all the things you would need to know and understand, yet I didn’t.  I had but one goal in mind—refuse to marry Whitney, embarrass her, and anger her father.  It was only a small step in my plan, but I should have thought it through so much more.  Sunniva is right—how can I lead my people if I will take such an important decision and use it to further my own goals?”

I felt hot tears stinging my eyes and tried to blink them away lest he see me wipe them with my hand.  I was not going to be good enough.  I had no idea how to be his wife, let alone the queen of an entire kingdom.  Even if Queen Sunniva were to help me, how would I ever learn everything I needed to know?  Branford, who was destined to be a king, admitted to making mistakes.  How could I possibly be what he needed?  How could I ever be good enough to be the Queen of Silverhelm?

“I will try harder, my...Branford,” I whispered.  “I swear I will. I—”

“Alexandra—no!” Branford rose up on his knees and grabbed my hands in his.  “These are not your failings, my wife—they are mine!  I can only assume it was God’s intervention that has saved me.  That can be the only reason my plan has somehow delivered you to me.  I just have to stop assuming and start actually thinking.  There is so much I need to teach you—so much you need to know.  My focus has been on the one aspect of our marriage I do understand, and there are so many more lessons you must learn—not for my sake, but for your own—to keep you safe and to prepare you for what is to come.  Alexandra, please…please do not believe this is a reflection of you.  You are perfect for me.”

“Perfect?”  There was doubt evident in my voice.  I listened to the sound of the word in my head and wondered if I may have heard him wrong.  If I knew so little, how could I be perfect as his wife?

“Yes, perfect,” he repeated.  He pulled at my hand until I was sitting in his lap.  Though not in our chair, I still felt my body relax into him.  “Do you not see, Alexandra?  You are like most of the people in my kingdom, and I am just now beginning to understand how little I know of them.  I need you to teach me, too.”

“But what can I teach you?”

“You can teach me what my people need,” Branford said.  He took my face in his hands, and his dark jade eyes blazed at me.  “I have always thought myself a just ruler, but then you began telling me all these stories from your life, and I realized there must be people here, in my own castle who have lived lives not dissimilar to yours.  Alexandra, I’ve never even considered what their lives are like.  It has never crossed my mind.  Every time you speak of something done to you or to those you knew, I am shocked, and I am angered.  My first thoughts faulted Edgar because he cares not for his people, but I myself have given servant girls to knights after winning tournaments, and I have no idea what happened to them afterwards.”

He took a long breath and tightened his grip on me.

“Had it not been for your intervention, I would have killed Thomas the day we arrived,” he said.  “If I had killed him, I would have lost you and never even known it was truly my own fault.  You stopped me from making what would have been the gravest mistake of my life.”

I felt another tear in my eye though it was not for the same reason.

“I need you, Alexandra,” Branford said.  He turned my face to his and pressed his lips against the corner of my eye, slowly kissing the tears from my face.  “I need you to show me where I am wrong.”

“Your word is law,” I whispered.  “How can you ever be wrong?”

“You will be my voice of reason someday,” Branford said, “when you are ready for it.  I need you to be exactly who you are.  I need you to help me help my people—especially now.”

“Why now?”

I watched as Branford’s chest expanded with his deep breath.  He let it out slowly while his eyes stared at the ground.

“I will be leaving tomorrow,” Branford finally said with his eyes still downcast.  I felt my chest tighten.

“Leaving?”

“Parnell is riding here tonight, and Ida will stay in Castle Silverhelm until we return.”

“Where are you going?” I asked though I knew the answer already.

“To war.”

And that was when I first began to feel like there was a hole in my chest.