“War?”  The word came out of my mouth in barely a whisper.

Branford nodded his head once.

“With Hadebrand?”

He nodded again.

“King Edgar has amassed an army.”  As Branford confirmed my fears, I remembered the words of the forester from days ago.  “Those that attacked us were not robbers but men from Hadebrand, hoping to ambush me on my way back from Sawyer.  If we had paused much longer, they would have had many more men waiting to claim my life and likely yours as well.  They sit near our borders now, barely a day’s ride from here.  Their intent is clear.”

I was completely unable to respond.  Since the day we were wed, I knew this was what he wanted—what he had planned to do since long before he brought me back here as his wife—but his words were unexpected, nonetheless.  I knew though—I knew something was wrong since the day we picked up Amarra from William and took her to meet the rest of Branford’s dogs.  Since that day, he had been distant and often completely absent.

We rode back to the castle in near silence, speaking only of mundane things and not broaching the subject of Branford’s impending departure.  He gripped me tightly against his chest, and he kissed the top of my head over and over again.

When we returned to our rooms in the evening, my eyes fell upon the leather-wrapped package I had planned to save for the celebration of Branford’s birth.  I felt pressure behind my eyes as I reached for the gift and picked it up slowly.

“My…Branford?”

Branford broke into a smile for the first time since we had left the meadow.

“Yes, my Alexandra?”  He cocked his head to one side and graced me with his half smile.  I felt my cheeks redden.  If we were married for fifty years, I would never get used to that particular expression.

“May I…may I give you something?”

“I can think of something I would like to get from you,” he said darkly.  I turned to find his eyes moving slowly down my body and back up again.

“It is not that,” I said as I shyly turned my head back to the bound leather.  I unwrapped it, reached in, and brought out the saddle blanket I had made.  “I…um…this was some of the cloth you bought for me.  It is actually for Romero, I suppose.

I decided to just hand it to him before I lost my nerve altogether.  Branford took the bundle of cloth from me and examined it.

“I have been learning to embroider,” I explained, abruptly feeling foolish.

“You embroidered the Sterling coat of arms?”

“Yes,” I replied.  “It does not look as good as the queen’s work, but I am getting better.”

“You have done a fine job,” he said.  He opened up the cloth and examined the whole piece.  “It is a saddle blanket, yes?  The embroidery will rest right near Romero’s left shoulder.”

“Yes, it will.”  I smiled, glad it was obvious.

Branford’s gaze met mine, and he leaned forward to kiss me lightly on my lips.

“Thank you, my wife.”

“I have one more thing for you,” I said quietly.  I wasn’t sure why I felt nervous giving a gift to him directly even though he had accepted the one for Romero gracefully enough.

“What do you have?” Branford’s half smile appeared, making his eyes twinkle with playfulness.  He raised an eyebrow at me, and I realized he might think I was offering something else.  I blushed readily, and he laughed.  “Go on—tell me.”

“It is just a little thing,” I said with a shrug as I brought out the green silk and held it to him.  Branford took it in his hands, turning it over and over.

“Is it a scarf?” he asked.

“Not exactly,” I said.  “You are to wear it round your neck, though.  It is supposed to be worn under your armor to bring you luck.”

“Luck?”

“And keep you safe,” I added softly.  “Sunniva told me if I made you something to wear near your heart, it would bring you luck.”

“It is like a baldric, then?” he asked as he raised his arms and positioned the cloth over one shoulder and across his heart.  I nodded, glad he understood.  “You made this for me?”

“Yes.”  I stepped from one foot to the other, and my voice dropped in volume.  “When you wear it, the embroidery goes, um, it goes over your heart.”

“I will wear it with the utmost pride,” he said as he adjusted it until the embroidery was in just the right place.  He reached out and touched the edge of my jaw, turning my face to look at him.

“I was going to save it for your birth celebration,” I said quietly.  I tried to hold in the tears I could feel in my eyes.  I wanted to be strong for him.  I didn’t want him to see me upset. “Perhaps it will keep you safe in the days to come.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, his eyes intense.  He looked at me for a long moment before he lowered his gaze, took a deep breath, and looked at me again.  “Alexandra, I know we have not been in each other’s company for so very long, but…”

He paused a moment and smiled broadly, his fingers still tracing my cheek.  His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and he took a deep breath before he spoke again.

“I will be eternally grateful that you caught my eye that day,” he finally said.  “So much has changed since then though it has not even been a month.  I have longed for war with Edgar for years, and now that it has come, all I can think of is the dread I feel when faced with leaving you here.  I expected to be eager for war, but now…”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me to him.

“What is different?” I asked.

“I do not know if I can bear being away from you,” Branford murmured into my neck.

Later that evening, after Branford had filled me with his child-giving seed, he held my body close, and he found that spot on my neck, right underneath my ear, to kiss and suck.  With his face still in the space between my head and shoulder, he drifted quickly into sleep.  This did not surprise me, for I knew he had not slept much these past few nights.

My mind could not rest even though my body desired it.  I felt as though I was trying to memorize the feel of his warm body against me, his hands in my hair, and the slow, steady rhythm of his slumbered breaths.  I reached up to touch the side of his rough face and wondered if I should have shaved him the night before since it would be some time before I would have another opportunity.

Some time.

But how long?

How long did a war last?  I had no idea when he might return, and I found myself wondering if there was something I should say to my husband.  Some words of encouragement or of comfort though I did not have any words to offer.  There were words I wished to say—longed to say—but the time did not seem to be right.

“I love you,” I whispered softly as I stroked the side of his face, confident that only the darkness had heard me.  Rousing my husband from sleep was quite a task, and I knew my quiet words would not even come close.  These were the words that ran through my mind continuously as I thought of how our day would start with Branford leading his army away from the castle and off to war with Hadebrand.  Would telling him such words spur on his bravery or cause him distress?  What if he thought I only said the words because he was leaving and not because I truly had feelings for him?  I remembered well his words when he took me as his wife for the first time—when he said he hoped that someday we would have stronger feelings for each other.  Though I was sure he did not yet feel the same way for me, my own feelings became more apparent to me each day.

The hours wore on, and as I took a deep breath, I was no more decided on the matter than I had been at the beginning of the night.  I lay my head back on Branford’s chest and closed my eyes though I knew it was too late, and dawn would be upon us before I would find any slumber.

As warm breezes began to rustle through our open windows, I felt Branford stir in his sleep and gently ran my fingers over the side of his rough face.  He hummed under his breath, and his head turned to kiss the side of my hand.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked quietly.

“Somewhat,” I said, for I had dozed a little.

He turned his body toward me and pulled me tightly against him.  He brushed his fingers slowly up and down my arm.  There was still some time before dawn and his departure.

“You must promise me something,” he said into the darkness.   “You must take care of yourself for me.  I do not know how long I may be away from the castle, but I want to be sure when I return to find you in good health.  Perhaps even showing my child in your belly, hmm?”

His smile was impossible not to return as he rolled on top of me and brought us together as one.  My arms wrapped tightly around his back as he moved inside of me, but I was far too anxious to relax under his touch and find my release.  Branford seemed to sense this and kissed me softly as he poured into me only a few minutes after he started.

He moved his hand up my shoulder to cup my face, and I turned to look at him.  He brushed my cheek with his thumb, and his expression was melancholy as he traced the lines of my face.

“Promise me,” he repeated, his voice more earnest than before.  “Rest and eat properly.  You had almost nothing of your dinner last night.”

“I will try,” I told him.   “Will you do the same?”

He continued to look into my eyes for a moment before nodding.

“Battle tends to make for good rest and a hearty appetite.”  He tried to smile, but it faltered quickly.  I turned my head to lie on his shoulder, and his hand went to my hair, stroking it gently as the sun began to emit an eerie glow in the field outside our window.

“I will worry for your safety,” I admitted.

“I shall be fine, my wife,” he said.  “And the castle guard will remain partially intact, so you will not be without protection.  Colin will remain as your guard, and I believe Amarra is adjusting well to the pack and will also provide you security.”

This was not something I had considered.

“They could come here?” I whispered.

“I will not allow that,” Branford stated with conviction, “but it is always better to remain cautious.”

I looked at him, intending to press him on the matter, but was interrupted by his mouth on mine, his hands pressed tightly to my back as he kissed me again and again.  They were light, quiet kisses, and when he was finished, his gaze bore into mine as he touched my face and hair.  I looked closely at him, wondering when I would again feel the touch of his hands in my hair or his lips on my throat.

All too soon, he rose quietly and began to dress as I heated water for his tea and donned a simple dress.  I took his arm as we walked in silence to the field where Parnell was already assembled with many men and what appeared to be hundreds of warhorses.

Camden and Sunniva appeared shortly after, and I spotted Ida sitting off to the side of the field and staring at her hands clasped in her lap.  She occasionally glanced at Parnell, who was instructing a page on the proper adjustment of a horse’s saddle.  Branford released my arm and went to him, speaking quietly with words I could not hear.  The men assembled outside the gates were kissing wives and children before mounting their horses and lining up with the rest of the army.

I could not help but wonder which of them were saying their final goodbyes.

All of us stood outside the castle gates.  The field was covered with men and horses as far as the eye could see.  Black and gold banners were held high in the front of the group, and others held spears, halberds, and maces high into the air as they shouted back and forth to each other in the dim morning light.

Branford and Parnell approached, and Sunniva immediately grabbed Branford and buried her forehead against his chest.  He held her tightly and spoke softly into her ear.  Ida and Parnell leaned close to one another, their hands clasped tightly together as they just stared into each other’s eyes, not speaking.  Sunniva finally released Branford from her grasp and told him to be careful.  Camden and Branford clasped each other’s forearms and spoke softly before Camden took Sunniva’s arm and led her away from the scene.

I stood in mute shock, my brain unable to process everything that was happening so quickly.  Branford looked into my eyes as he closed the distance between us and placed his hands on my shoulders.

“I will return to you,” he said.

As much as I wished to believe his promise, I knew it was a promise he could not guarantee.  I closed my eyes as I felt the back of his hand slide over my face.  I could feel the eyes of those in the court who had come to see the knights off to battle as well as the eyes of the knights as they watched our exchange.  I wished I had the forethought to have said my goodbyes to him in the privacy of our rooms.

“Please be careful,” I responded.  I looked back to his eyes and felt a tear escape from the corner of my eye.

“No…no…Alexandra, do not cry.”  His fingertip captured the wetness before he leaned close to kiss the same spot on my cheek.

“I don’t wish to be apart from you,” I said as I leaned against his hand.

“You will be with me,” he said softly.  He took my hand and placed it over his heart and over the baldric he wore underneath the links of chainmail.  “Right here with me—always.”

Again, those three words came to my thoughts, and I wanted to say them.  Again, I stayed my tongue, knowing this was not the right time.  Still, my emotions took over, and I was unable to hold back any longer.  I threw myself against his chest, and my tears flowed freely.

Branford held me to him a moment before he pulled my arms from around him, and he forcibly separated our bodies.  He touched the side of my face and brushed his lips over mine.  When I looked to his eyes, there seemed to be more he wanted to say, but as he parted his lips and licked over them, he said nothing more.

He turned and mounted his horse, calling to his men as they all began to ride through the castle gates.  I stared after him, my unwavering gaze at his back until not only Branford but the rest of the company had disappeared from view.

I felt a hand on my arm and turned to find Sunniva beside me, her eyes also full of tears.  She pulled both Ida and me close to her, and we all embraced together.

“Be strong for them,” she whispered to us.  “Pray for them.  It is all we can do now.”

*****

The thoughts and feelings that went through my mind during those first few days were far too convoluted and confusing.  I knew of Branford’s desire for war since the first day I came to Silverhelm, and though I had considered in the back of my mind what it might be like, the reality of it was far, far different.

My mind would not stop producing the most horrific of images, usually dealing with a messenger coming to our rooms to inform me of Branford’s demise on the battlefield.  Every time the door to our rooms opened, I cringed, sure that this was the time they would tell me of my husband’s death. Thankfully, it was usually either Janet or Samantha, Thomas’ wife, bringing me something to eat, but more often than not, the meal remained untouched.

At one point, my concern had been only for myself, wondering what would become of me if Branford were no more.  Now, I did not care.  If he fell, whatever happened to me no longer mattered.  I could go back to being a handmaid—perhaps to Ida.  It would be preferable than to be known only as Sir Branford’s widow.

I lost track of the number of days I simply lay in our bed, trying to stop thoughts of Branford from plaguing my conscious mind.  I slept only when I could no longer keep my eyes open.  Ida had sat beside me a few times, and I tried to hold conversation with her, but her state was not much better than mine.  I feared we were more harmful than helpful to each other

When a messenger finally came to my door, my body went cold as he began to speak.

“Your presence is demanded by Sunniva, Queen of Silverhelm,” he said simply and then left the room.

His words did nothing to ease my sense of dread as I pulled myself from my position on the bed and found Janet waiting to help me dress.  I wanted to fight her on the choice of attire, but we both knew if Queen Sunniva was calling for me, I needed to be properly dressed.

“You may go, Janet,” Sunniva said as we entered the grand hall and approached the throne.  Camden was not present, nor were there any other members of the court—only Sunniva with Ida standing beside her.  “Alexandra, we need to speak.”

I felt my hands begin to tremble, and I found myself unable to look into the queen’s face.

“I know what you are feeling,” she said, “for I have felt it many times before, but you cannot continue as you have been.  If you do, I will be forced to send you to another part of the kingdom so your influence does not compromise our people.”

Had I heard her right?  Was the queen going to send me away?  If I were to be sent to another part of the kingdom, where would I sleep, and with whom would I stay?  I thought of the rooms I was in and how many of the items there still carried Branford’s scent or even his very presence.

The very idea of being away from the rooms I shared with my husband was absolutely unendurable.

“Please, my queen.”  My voice was barely a whisper.  “Please do not send me away.  I will do whatever you ask of me…I meant no harm…”

“I realize that, Alexandra.”  Queen Sunniva reached out and took my hand.  “I do not wish to be cruel, but our people are talking, and they are worried.  They need to have confidence in their prince’s army, and how can they feel as such when his own wife is so devastated by the war that she will not leave her rooms?”

“I feel the same as you,” Ida said.  “Mother’s already told me the same thing.  Knowing Parnell is so far from me…and possibly in danger…It is very tempting to do as you have done and isolate myself, but we cannot do that.  Our people need us to show our strength.”

I had not considered it in such a way.  I was not used to even the idea of others looking to me for their guidance, and I felt a completely different chill run up my spine.  Was I worthy of this station?

For the sake of Branford and the sake of his people, I would have to be worthy.

“Branford expected Amarra to be in your rooms by now,” Sunniva told me.  “She was to be included as part of your guard, and yet she is still with the rest of the pack.  I do not think Branford would like that news, do you?”

“No, my queen,” I said softly, looking down at my feet and clasping my hands together.

“Alexandra, I am not chastising you,” the queen said.  “I am concerned for you and for your health.  You are not eating well, and I know your nights are without rest.  The messenger keeps inquiring about your well-being at Branford’s request, I’m sure.  Thus far, I have kept him from checking on you personally, but it is only a matter of time before Branford demands it.  How do you think he would react?”

I closed my eyes for a moment and then nodded.  I could not argue with her even if I were so inclined.  If Branford came back and found me as I had been only an hour ago, he would be most displeased.

“You have to care of yourself,” Sunniva said.  “Not just for your own sake but for Branford’s.  You are a part of the royal family now, Alexandra.  Your duties lie outside of yourself.  One of the things we must do is think of our people first and ourselves second.  Do what you must do for the kingdom first, and then you will have the luxury of doing what you wish.”

“Yes, my queen,” I said quietly.

Queen Sunniva stood and stepped up to me.

“None of that now,” she said with a slight smile.  “You are my son’s beloved wife, and my title is not necessary when you speak, regardless of the topic.”

I smiled and nodded again.  She ran her hand over my hair and stopped at my shoulder.

“He cares very much for you,” Sunniva told me.  “Do you realize this?”

“I…I think so,” I replied.  “I care for him, too.”

“I can see that.”  Sunniva nodded and stepped back.  “Now go to the kitchens and eat.  You need your nourishment.”

I bowed my head and did as my queen bade me.

After that conversation, I spent my days trying to keep myself together—for the sake of Ida, Sunniva, Janet, and the other people of the kingdom.  I ate because I had promised Branford and the queen that I would though it was difficult to eat much.  At night, I could not force myself to sleep, and spent much of the time clutching Branford’s pillow to my chest and being only marginally comforted by his scent.  Every time I closed my eyes or took a bite from my plate, I could not help but wonder what he was doing at that moment.  Was he fighting, his sword drawn high above his head as he charged into the middle of battle?  Did he fight from atop his steed or on the ground?  What if he were thrown from his horse?  What if he were hurt right now as I rested or ate or spoke of mundane things with Janet?

What if he were lying on the field of battle at this very moment, injured…dying…

While I did what?  Worked on my sewing?

I was literally disgusted with myself, but I still spent my days smiling and speaking pleasantly with the people around the castle.  Each afternoon, I went to check on Branford’s dogs and smiled at the stable boy who made sure they were fed properly.

At night, I let it all come back to me.

I sat in our chair with Amarra at my side.  Janet continued to offer to stay with me through the nights, but as always, I sent her away.  Having anyone else in the room only reminded me that Branford was not here.  I didn’t even know where he was—still on the road to Hadebrand?  Camped somewhere near the border, waiting for the enemy to attack?  Or was he—right now—engaged in battle, his life in danger?

A cold shiver ran up my spine.

I had not told him I loved him, and now I wished that I had.

I blinked a few times and realized the fire had nearly gone out, and it was quite late.  I had barely slept since he left, and though I was exhausted, I did not try to fool myself into believing slumber would come easily to me this night.

I pointed to Amarra’s cushion by the fireplace, and she obediently clambered on and lay down.  Tossing a few more logs onto the fire, I stood and walked across the room to the bed.  I lay down on my back and stared at the dark ceiling illuminated only by the firelight.

Even his smell had dissipated from the pillows.

He could be dead or dying right now…

I pushed the thoughts from my head and tried to quiet my mind enough to sleep.

*****

The days passed.

In the mornings, I sat in the chair by the fireplace, drank the tea Janet prepared for me, and tried to ready myself for the coming day.  I would dress in the finest dresses and go to the grand hall to meet with those in the court.  Afterwards, Ida would spend a few hours a day tutoring me.  I had learned the sounds of the letters and was starting to read a few simple phrases.

In the afternoons, I worked on my embroidery, often sitting on one of the benches near the marketplace, where many of the people of Silverhelm would stop and speak to me.  I smiled for them.  I kept conversations pleasant for them, and I felt as if every word that came out of my mouth was a lie.

In the evenings, I would sit in the garden with Janet or sometimes Ida.  Janet told me little of her life with Sir Leland, and I could see she did not wish to speak of that time.  She did speak of her life in Seacrest before she was sold to Sir Leland and seemed to have fond memories of tending to fields before hardships on the family who took her in necessitated her sale.

I shuddered when I thought of what she must have endured the two years she had been with that awful man.  Even compared to me, she was quite young and conducted herself more as a child than as a woman.  She was still gracious and helpful in all things and had even begun to help care for Samantha—the widow of the brave carriage driver who had saved me.  Samantha was a small, frail woman with silver hair and hands that shook when she worked for too long.  As Branford had promised, Samantha had her own area in the servants’ rooms.  Though she could do little work, she was still paid a full servant’s wage for the few hours she was able to help prepare food for the kitchens.

As I learned about the different nobles in the Kingdom of Silverhelm and their relationships with each other, the days continued to pass.  As I began reading small parts of scripture that were not too difficult, the days passed.  As I sewed, walked through the marketplace, or helped Sunniva tend the gardens, the days passed.

I held it in.   I did not let the people see the state I felt inside.

At night I began to pray for my husband.

*****

Sunniva convinced me to stay in the Women’s Room during my bleeding just to keep with the tradition though I was not required to do so with Branford away.  The days there passed even more slowly as I hid my disappointment, for I would have been quite grateful to discover that Branford’s child grew inside of me.  I had thought of what it would have been like to be able to tell him of an expected child when he returned, but it was not to be.  I thought of all the times Branford had not returned to our bed at night when he had been consumed with the impending battles.  If he had been with me, perhaps a child would have started to grow.

The day after I returned to my own rooms, Janet was there, filling the bath with hot water from the kettle.  I finally allowed her to coax me into the tub.  Janet poured water over my head as I sat in the person-sized bathtub in the bedroom.  I had never even taken such a bath, but apparently, Sunniva advised it.  I assumed her words to be more of an order than a suggestion.

I leaned back and tried to relax in the warm water as Janet washed my hair.  I had not yet before this evening even thought of using the person-sized leather tub for bathing while Branford was away, and I had to admit it definitely had its advantages.  It was obviously made with Branford in mind, and there was plenty of room for me to stretch out my legs and just let the warm water flow over me.  I breathed in the deep, lavender scent from the herbs Janet had added to the water and tried not to think.

It was difficult.

It had been so long since Branford and his army had left for Hadebrand.  There had been a messenger who brought news to Camden of the war’s progress nearly every day, though I was not privy to all the information.  Camden would hear the messenger’s report first and would then speak with Sunniva, Ida, and me.  I was quite sure we did not hear everything he did, but what we did hear was bad enough.

Hadebrand’s army outnumbered Branford’s two to one, and even though Branford’s men were skilled, many had been lost in the three battles that had commenced since the beginning.  At the time of the last report, both Parnell and Branford were without great injury.

Janet poured more water over my head, and I closed my eyes.  The warm water felt good, but all I could really think about was how I now wanted to have Branford back so I could bathe him here.  I squeezed my eyes shut, breathed deeply, and tried to pull myself together.  Janet finished rinsing me and then helped me out of the bath.  She brought forth a soft cloth to dry me and then helped me into my dressing gown.  I dismissed her soon after, preferring my solitude.

I rubbed the top of Amarra’s head as I stared at the fire, passing what I hoped would be enough time to allow me to sleep.  When I felt so exhausted I could barely see the embers, I finally moved myself to the bed.

The evening was stiflingly hot, and there was little breeze from the window.  I wrapped my hair up around my hand and lay it out against the pillow to try to cool myself off.  It did not truly help or at least not significantly.  I pushed the sheets away and rolled over, closing my eyes tightly until sleep finally came, however briefly.

I woke abruptly.

The fire had gone out, but the heat of the summer night was still nearly choking me.  The warmth would have made it difficult to sleep under the best of conditions, and in my mental state, I had only dozed off and on through the first part of the night.  I could hear Amarra getting off of her raised cushion to opt instead for the coolness of the floor near the morning room.

I dozed for a short time.

My head felt strange, and I had no ability to focus as I was roused unexpectedly from sleep yet again.  I felt movement on the bed, and for a moment, I thought Amarra had actually jumped up to the mattress.  I could not see anything in the deep black of the moonless night, but whatever was sitting beside me was much larger than the dog.  I felt deft fingers brush against my arm, and I gasped in a breath in order to scream.

“Shh, shh, shh!” A voice called out, and I felt a hand cover my lips, pressing down.  “Do not cry out, my beautiful wife.”

“Branford?”  My dreams had become so real now, I could hardly tell the difference, for I was sure the hands on me belonged to my husband, but how could it be so?

“Yes.”  His fingers released my lips, and both hands coiled around my back.  I inhaled his scent, heavy and comforting.

“Branford!”  I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, realizing I was not dreaming.  “Branford, are you really here?”

“Yes, my wife.”  He lay down beside me, and I moved close to him.  I reached up and stroked his cheek as he laid his head atop mine.

“Is it over?” I asked tentatively.  His hair, grown longer since I had seen him last, brushed my cheek as he shook his head.

“I needed to see you…to know for myself that you are all right.  The messenger’s information was too vague.”  His hands traveled my body as if taking inventory.  He paused as his fingers brushed over my sides.  “You are not eating enough.”

I closed my eyes and pressed my face into his neck.

“I am trying, my…Branford,” I told him.  He pulled me away from his skin and kissed me softly.  I placed my hands on his shoulders, and I gripped the chainmail shirt he wore over the leather armor covering his body.  I wondered again if I was dreaming, but if so, it was a dream made of the most real sensations.

“I have missed you so much,” he whispered against the flesh at my neck.  He opened his mouth and tasted my skin.  His hot breath covered my face as his hands covered my body.  “You smell so good…like the lavender bushes in the garden.  Please…Alexandra…I need you.”

“Yes,” I said with a nod, and his hands grasped the hem of my nightdress, ridding me of it quickly.  I heard the clink of his mail shirt as he dropped it off the side of the bed, and a moment later felt him pressed close against me, the warmth of his skin enveloping me as his mouth crashed to mine.  He slid his hand down my arm, over my waist, and to my leg before he brought his fingers around to the inside of my thigh.  He nudged my legs apart, and his fingers searched and discovered.

Branford drew the moisture from my body with his fingers, using it to coat me between my legs and up to the tiny spot he knew so well.  His fingers circled it, moistening the flesh before they reached back inside of me, and his thumb pressed and rubbed.  He sucked gently at my neck as his fingers pumped inside of me, curling back suddenly as he pressed again with his thumb.

“Branford!  Branford!”

My body shuddered and clamped down on his fingers.  I heard his own gasp as I reached out and wrapped my fingers around his arm.  My head thrashed from side to side as he kept up his steady rhythm until I fell apart completely.  His kisses trailed from below my ear, down my neck, and back up again.

Branford shifted, and I opened my legs to him more completely as he settled between them and readied himself.  With soft touches from his lips against my temple, I felt him guide himself into my body, and the warm, welcome pleasure washed over me as he pushed forward and buried himself in me.

As we connected—his body joining with mine so completely—I took a long, deep breath.  It was the first I had been able to fill my lungs since he had gone off to war.  I felt the touch of his tongue on my nipples, licking in circles at first, but then sucking in earnest.  His hands explored where his mouth did not, all the while keeping his slow, steady thrusts inside of me.

“So beautiful…so soft…my wife…” he mumbled into my skin.

I touched his hair, his arms, and his shoulders—running my hands over and over his skin as if I could not get enough of it.  I couldn’t.  He said it was not over—he may even be leaving yet tonight.  I wrapped my arms around him and raised my head up to run my cheek over the top of his.  He released my nipple and he kissed me, his tongue caressing mine as his hips continued their ceaseless rhythm.

Branford’s warm hands were in my hair, on my face, sliding over my ribs and down to my hips.  Even with the heat of the summer night heavy in the air, his touch was comforting to my skin.  I reached around his back, tightly gripping the muscles just below his shoulders as his movements began to quicken.  I lay my head back, wrapped my legs around his hips, and tried to match his hurried movements.

I heard his low moan as I felt him empty inside of me, his body suddenly going taut as his hips collided with mine.  He held himself there a moment before his muscles relaxed, and he rolled to his side, holding me close and nuzzling the skin at my neck.

“Do you need anything?” I asked softly.  “Water?  Or tea?”

“I just want to hold you.”  His head rested heavily on my shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me.  I felt his fingers skim my belly before they wrapped around my waist, and he pulled me close.  I reached for his hair, stroking it softly from the top of his head, down his temple, and then down to his chin.

“If it is not over,” I asked tentatively, “how are you here?”

“I had to see you…be with you,” he said.  “I have been insane without you.”

I felt his fingertips clench, digging into my skin.

“I rode alone.  I left the rest of them behind, hiding in the forests.  God, Alexandra—what have I done?”

My muscles tensed as the words poured from his mouth in a rush.

“I had good men, Alexandra.”  He raised his head to look me in the eyes.  The sorrow etched on his face tore at my heart.  “I trained them myself…they were good soldiers.  But there were just too many against us.  I did not believe Edgar could gather such an army together in so short a time.  I didn’t realize…”

His breath hitched in his throat, and he held his eyes closed tightly.

“They are almost all dead,” he said softly.  He opened his eyes, and they implored me for an answer.  “Where did he get so many men?  You lived in his house...where did they come from?”

I could only shake my head in response.

“I am responsible for all of it.  I knew when I chose you, it would be the final straw—the final insult to bring him to action.  I did it with purpose and clear intent.  All of their deaths are on my hands.  All of them my fault...and I…I…I do not regret my actions.”

His gaze darted to mine again, and his hand reached to my cheek.  He stroked my skin softly.

“I cannot regret them,” he said quietly, “for they brought you to me.  God must have had some plan in mind, because He gave you to me.  But the cost…so high…but you are so, so worth it to me.”

His other hand came up, and he held my face between his palms.  His eyes looked deep into me as he leaned forward.

“I love you, my beautiful wife.  You are my world, and regardless of the loss, I would never, ever take back any of my actions if it would mean I could not have you.  I love you.”

My skin began to tingle as his words became clear, and I tried to search his eyes for some indication I had either heard wrong, or the words were not true.  I found none and chastised myself for even considering it.  Branford was not the kind of man to say such words without cause.

“Branford…”  I reached up and touched his face, drawing my fingers over his jaw before I lifted my head up and placed my lips against his.  “I love you, my husband.  You are everything to me.”

His eyes widened as he looked down at me.

“I did not truly even dream…” he started to say, but quickly shook his head and ended his sentence with his mouth against mine.  He continued to whisper the words against my mouth as I did the same.  Eventually, he moved his lips to my neck, settling into the place he seemed to like the most.  He held me, and I ran my fingers through his hair for some time before he spoke again.

“I have to surrender.” Branford’s whispered words cut through me.  “If I surrender now, allow them to take what they have already gained without protest, I should at least be able to keep them away from here—away from you.  To keep him away from my people, I will have to give him what he wants.”

“What does he want?” I asked.

“Sterling Castle,” Branford said.  “He has always wanted it.”

“Why?”

“I have never understood his fascination with it.  It does not matter now—if I offer it to him, he will let me end this.  I must be able to bring peace back to Silverhelm.”

He found my fingers with his and brought them up to his lips, slowly kissing my knuckles.    He rubbed the side of his face against the backs of my fingers and then held them against his chest.

“I have failed,” he whispered.  “What must you think of me?”

I gripped his hands as they began to shake.

“I think you are considering your people first, putting yourself behind them and your kingdom,” I told him.

His gaze turned to meet mine, and a slow smile crossed his face.

“You sound like my mother,” he said quietly.  He reached up and touched my cheek, then leaned in to kiss me softly.  “Very, very wise.”

“She has taught me much,” I said.

“I can see you have taken her words to heart quickly,” he mused, “when it often took me many hard lessons before I understood her words.  You are a very smart woman, my wife.”

I knew he could not see the blush on my face, but his fingers stroked across my cheekbone anyway.

“I will have to return to my men soon,” Branford said.  “But I loathe the idea of leaving you.  I swear, I will return as soon as I am able.”

“I will be here, waiting for you,” I whispered in return.  “I love you.”

The words seemed so easy now, and his returning smile and sentiment was enough to send my heart into rapid thumps against my chest.  Branford held me a moment longer, then pulled himself out of the bed, quickly donning his clothes.  He strode across the room, pausing briefly to stroke Amarra’s head.  He did not look back as he left our rooms, and even from our window, as I watched him ride off into the night, he did not turn his face to look at me.

A messenger returned late the next evening with news of Branford’s surrender to King Edgar.

And that is how Silverhelm lost the war.