It was a bittersweet moment when the scout on top of the castle called out, signaling the return of Branford’s army.  As the people of Silverhelm crowded around the castle entrance, what was left of the men who went off to fight came into view.  As the small group approached, the wails of those who had lost their loved ones rose up into the early evening sky.

As I spotted Branford atop Romero, his silhouette catching my eye immediately as he appeared on the horizon, I knew from his posture that he was weary and despondent.  I longed to run to him as some of the other wives were doing when they saw their husbands in the distance, but I stood my ground.  I stood tall as Sunniva did beside me, ready to greet the army as a whole, recognize their sacrifices, and do what I could to help our people accept the loss in their hearts.  After our people were cared for, then I would tend to my husband.

Thirty-eight of Branford’s two hundred and fifty men returned.  Some of those that did make it were greatly injured, being dragged in makeshift carts behind the horses.  Some were beyond hope and only returned to die in their own lands with their families around them.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw the cart that bore Dunstan.

He was lying on his back, his right thigh wrapped tightly in cloth.  Branford dropped from Romero’s back, handing the reins to Michael, and walked beside my former bodyguard with Parnell close behind.  Branford’s gaze met mine only briefly as the horses came to a halt near the gates.  He reached over and helped Parnell to pull Dunstan from the cart, carefully wrapping his arm under the injured leg.  Though conscious, Dunstan was in obvious pain, and the bandages around his leg were seeped in dark blood.  The two knights carried him past the onlookers and into the castle as the rest of the court followed.

“If he had not suffered such injury, Branford might not have come out of the final battle unscathed,” I heard Michael say to Camden as he walked up beside us.  “We owe Dunstan for the life of the prince.”

“We will repay that debt in any way we can,” Camden responded.

I followed behind with the royal family as they took Dunstan to the barracks and placed him on one of the beds.  Branford lay his hand on the man’s shoulder and spoke softly to him, and Dunstan nodded his response.  Branford then turned and came to me and placed his palm against the side of my face, his eyes full of concern.

“Is there anything you can do for him?” Branford asked.

“I will look,” I said, “but I know so little of wounds such as these.  I don’t know if I have the skill to help him.”

“Whatever you can do,” Branford said as his hand dropped from my cheek.  “Anything.”

I held back my tears as I approached.  Parnell and Michael laid Dunstan on his back on the mattress, and he cringed in pain as his leg was shifted.  They stood near Dunstan’s head, holding his shoulders to keep him from moving as I slowly unwound the bandages from his leg.  The cut was deep, red, and continued to bleed lightly.  I remembered Edith speaking once of using a sewing needle and thread to bind a bad cut together, but I was not sure if such a thing could really be done.

Janet appeared, bringing Dunstan a cup of tea she said would help with the pain.  He drank it down as I talked to Branford about Edith and her unusual sewing.  His eyes widened at the thought, but when he spoke, his voice was desperate.

“Do you think you could do such a thing?” he asked.  “Use a needle to sew through a man’s skin?  I have heard of it, but I have never seen it done.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “I have never done it before or even seen it be done.  It would be very painful.  If nothing is done, I fear the leg will be lost.”

“If it could save his leg, he would endure the pain.”

I nodded and sent Janet for my sewing needles and the strongest thread she could find.  Michael fetched water and cloths to clean blood from the leg while Branford attempted his own brand of pain reduction—in the form of strong mead.

As Dunstan drank, I put everything I would need on the end of the bed.

“He will have to be held down tightly.”  I looked to Branford, who nodded and switched places with Michael.  He knelt on the floor and wrapped his hands around the young man’s calf—holding it firmly against the bed while I wiped blood from the gash in his thigh.

Dunstan’s body jerked as the needle entered through his skin, but he did endure, as Branford had said he would, until I had to pull the skin taut so the thread could pull and bind the edges of skin and seal the gash.  I wished I was able to close my ears as well as my eyes as he began to scream—necessitating both Parnell and Camden to hold him against the bed as he thrashed.  Branford’s arms flexed, and the muscles grew tight as he tried to keep the leg from moving.

“Work quickly!” he said through clenched teeth.

“I am trying,” I replied.  I did not want to have to retrace my stitches, so I knew I needed to be careful.  One of the other solders joined us to keep Dunstan as still as possible.  I had managed to sew up two-thirds of the wound when Dunstan’s body went still.

“Is he—?” Branford cried out to Parnell.

“Passed out,” Parnell replied with a shake of his head.  “He still breathes.  We should finish quickly.  I do not know if he can take much more.”

With Dunstan unconscious, I could work faster to complete the remaining stitches to hold the wound closed.  With Janet’s help, I wrapped clean bandages around Dunstan’s thigh and sat back.  Sunniva came up beside me, holding out a bowl of clean water.  The queen herself helped me to clean the blood from my hands, and the king and prince moved Dunstan to a more comfortable resting place.

“Will he live?” Sunniva asked quietly.

“Only time will tell,” I said. “He is through the worst of it, I think.  But I know very little of healing.”

“You were magnificent,” Sunniva stated.  “It is fitting—he saved Branford, and now you may have saved him.”

When the tears came to my eyes this time, I let them fall.

Janet was left to watch over Dunstan as Branford and I followed the king and queen back to the grand hall, Parnell and Ida trailing behind.  When we arrived, there were a few members of the court waiting for us, and Branford gave a quick recounting of Edgar’s army, the battles they fought over the time he was gone, the losses, and the conditions of his surrender.

There were many concessions Branford was forced to give to Hadebrand.  His title to Sterling Castle was given to Edgar, along with the lands encompassing the village of Wynton.  In addition, Edgar now held a high position in the court at Silverhelm and would be coming to the castle on a regular basis to meet with Camden and Branford.  This, it seemed, was the most regrettable of all the concessions Silverhelm was to endure with the loss of the war.

After hearing the depiction of Branford’s surrender, Camden dismissed us, telling Branford to rest and tend to me.  My husband’s weary eyes met mine, and he did not hesitate to take my arm and lead me to our rooms.  As soon as the door behind me was closed, I was in his arms and being carried swiftly to our bed.  He pulled off my clothing unceremoniously and discarded his in the same manner.

He reacquainted himself with my curves, sliding his hands slowly from my shoulders to my hips before coming back up to wrap them around my breasts.  He suckled each of them in turn as he slowly brought our bodies together.

I dropped my head and groaned at the feeling of the pressure inside of me as he entered.  I missed this so very, very much while he was away.  For a long moment, he stayed still and buried inside of me, and I was grateful.  When he began to move, he moved slowly in and out of me as his mouth warmed my nipples.  He moved one of his hands down between our bodies, and his thumb matched the pace of his slow thrusts.

“Oh!   Branford!” I cried out as his motions quickened and my body responded, clenching tightly around him.  I dug my fingers into his shoulder blades, and my back arched as his tongue and teeth continued to work my nipples.

“I love you…my wife…”

“My Branford…”

Branford moaned his prayers as he filled me, the tight muscles of his arms capturing my body and holding it firmly against his own.  Rolling to his side, he held me in his tight embrace as he kissed and nibbled at my neck.

“I love you,” I whispered to him.

“And I love you,” he replied, “more than you will ever know.  Images of you in my head were the only reason I could keep going.  Even when loss was inevitable, I knew I had to get back to you…see your face again…”

“I missed you so much!” I cried as I wrapped my arms around his neck and finally let my tears flow freely.  He held me tight against him, whispering softly to me and rocking our bodies together.

Though still exhausted from countless nights of poor sleep, neither Branford nor I did much sleeping the night of his return.  However, we did spend most of the morning lying in the bed with our arms wrapped tightly around each other.

“I do not ever wish to be away from you again,” he told me.

“Then do not leave again,” I responded.

Branford’s eyes sparkled at me as he leaned forward and captured my mouth with his and then continued over my jaw to my ear and down my neck.

“Never again,” he whispered against my skin.  “Besides, I have a mind to keep you right here until you are definitely carrying my child.”

“I would not object,” I responded.

I worked my fingers through his hair and vowed to myself to cut it for him this morning as well as to give him a shave and maybe even make use of the bathtub.  I lay my head on the pillow, and Branford settled against my shoulder, gazing up at me for a very, very long time.

In the days that followed, Branford and Camden spent many late nights together, discussing what had happened and how Silverhelm would recover from the loss.  I knew my husband’s sense of guilt over the deaths of his men weighed heavily on him, and he did his best to ease the suffering of the families who lost their fathers and husbands.  Dunstan survived though he would probably walk with a limp for the rest of his days.  He could no longer be a soldier, but he would still be able to serve Silverhelm with the highest of honors—as the savior of his prince and future king.  In the months that followed, despite dealing with the losses he had endured, Branford was very single minded.

Branford’s sole focus became securing his heir.

*****

Autumn…

Winter…

Spring…

Summer…

Autumn…

Winter…

*****

The first snow fell lightly from the sky, tiny little flakes that were just barely enough to cover with a dusting of white the field outside the morning room window.  It was beautiful to witness, and I had found that winter was my favorite season in Silverhelm.  I inhaled the cool, crisp air before closing the shutter to the chill.

I walked back into the bedroom and nodded at Janet, who was collecting my things.  Branford sat motionless, his arms resting on his legs as he leaned forward, his hands dangling between his thighs.  He did not look up at me as I gathered my sewing and placed it on top of the pile of clothing near the wardrobe.  My heart ached for him…for us…but there was nothing I could do.

It was my second winter as Branford’s wife, and despite what had become nearly constant effort over the harvest season, I was again heading to the women’s room for my bleeding time.  Janet placed my clothing in a leather wrap and hoisted it under one arm.  As the girl moved around the room, Amarra followed her—sniffing with curiosity at the bundle under her arm. We started toward the door when Branford called out.

“Alexandra, wait,” my husband implored as his eyes met mine.  I paused, and Janet followed suit.  Amarra’s ears perked up at the sound of Branford’s voice, and she went to his side.  “Stay a moment.”

“Branford…”  I let my voice trail off.  I knew how difficult it was for him, for it was the same in my heart.  Being away from him—even for only a handful of days—was always painful, and our people paid for it dearly at times.  Branford’s temper may not have been what it once was, but his bite could still be felt most readily.  I had heard talk of our people going to the church in droves to pray for me to be with child soon, and I knew Branford’s prayers had increased manyfold.

“Just a moment alone.”  His eyes darkened as he looked at Janet and then back to me.  With a motion from his hand, Amarra jumped onto her cushion by the fire and settled her head on her paws to watch us.

“We are not supposed to.” My reminder was unnecessary, but I felt I needed to say something.  I had already waited too long to leave the company of my husband.  His audible breath and clenched hands demonstrated how much this particular rule from the church held no interest for him.  I was sure if it was in his power, he would abolish the practice completely.

“We should go, Lady Alexandra.” Janet spoke quietly, her gaze darting between mine and my husband’s.

“I am still speaking to my wife,” Branford stated.

“She should be—”

“So help me God, Janet,” Branford yelled suddenly, “get the hell out of this room, or I will throw you out the window!”

Glancing at me quickly, Janet wisely heeded his words and scampered out the door with an armload of my things.  I turned to Branford and shook my head.

“You should not scare her so,” I said, chastising, but he was not interested in such words.  For the most part, Branford was more reserved in his treatment of the servants of Silverhelm Castle, but he had never warmed toward Janet.  I knew he had searched for more information on her background—her family and her homes prior to Silverhelm—but he had been unsuccessful.  This made him nervous.

Branford rose from his chair and pulled me against his chest, crushing his lips against mine.  Though I knew it was my duty to resist, I was incapable of denying myself to him and his passion.  I parted my lips and tasted his tongue in my mouth as I circled his neck with my arms.

“I cannot stand for you to be away from me!”  He moaned against my lips.  “If I had known last night, I would have taken you again.”

“I know, my Branford,” I whispered back.  I ran my hands from his neck into his hair, tilting his head to look at me.  “I love you, and I will be back soon enough.  We can try again.”

He blinked a few times and looked to one side, nodding his head but still not releasing my waist.  His gaze found the window, and he seemed to contemplate the falling snow as his fingers pulled me closer to him.

“I hate this!” he suddenly yelled.  He turned his blazing eyes back to me, and I could not help but cringe a little though I knew I was safer here in his strong arms than anywhere else in the kingdom.  “I hate being separated from you, and I hate that you are still not…not…”

He lowered his head to my shoulder as his hot breath came out of his mouth in pants.

“I know, my Branford,” I said softly.  “I know it pains you…I am so sorry.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around my back and he pulled me even closer against his body.

“My anger is not directed toward you, my wife,” Branford said, his voice slightly calmer.  He looked out the window again and sighed before he rested his cheek on the top of my head.  “At the moment, I am only angry with God.  I’ll go ask forgiveness from Father Tucker later.”

“I know,” I whispered against his neck.  I felt his lips on the top of my head, and I pressed mine against his throat.  “I must go now.”

“I do not want you to.”

I reached up and stroked the side of his face.  He was so beautiful, even when he demonstrated his petulant side.  His grip on me tightened, and I allowed him to pull me close for another moment.  I heard his sigh as his hands dropped from me.  “Go quickly before I change my mind.”

I nodded and headed out the door.

“Alexandra?”

“Yes?”  I looked back to his pained eyes.

“I love you, my wife.”

I smiled at him.

“And I love you, my Branford.”

Though most of the kingdom would agree, Branford’s marriage to me had tempered him somewhat, but he was often still a mystery to his people.  He hid what was inside him most of the time and rarely showed his emotions.  He tried to keep many of his thoughts to himself, even from his adoptive parents, but never from me.  Truly, there was little Branford could keep from me even when he tried.  I knew he was allying with Seacrest and Peaks—securing armies to win back the childhood home that was precious to him.  He also spoke to Parnell late in the night about bringing both Wynton and even the Village of the Eagle back into Silverhelm lands.

Someday, there would be another war.

As he began to feel his years, Camden’s health was frail, and it was possible Branford would take the throne within the next year.  The fact that I had not yet given him a child was tearing him apart, and I knew it.  As much as he prepared for another war, he dared not attempt battle with Hadebrand again as long as he had no heir.

I longed to make it so—to give him that peace—but there was nothing I could do.

Even as Branford whispered to me that it was God’s will, and He would grant me a child when He saw fit, I knew that sentiment did not really hold true for my husband.  He needed a child of his seed, and time was running out.  I wasn’t sure what would happen if I did not conceive soon.  I had not truly allowed the idea to enter my thoughts, even when I remembered the words King Camden spoke to me when I was still new to this castle.

The Women’s Room was warm and inviting with its fires burning brightly.  I took my place at the far side of the room where the large bed had been moved away from the chill of the window.  Janet arranged my things on a table and hugged me briefly.

“I’ll get your tea,” she said, “and I will make sure the kitchen sends Sir Branford his favorite foods for his supper tonight.”

“Thank you, Janet,” I replied.  “He may not appreciate it, but at least he may eat.”

“I’ll make sure of it, Lady Alexandra.”

As I settled in and picked up my most recent sewing, the door opened to reveal Ida, her rounded stomach looking more and more protruding every day.

“Ida, you are so close!” I exclaimed.  “You look as though your child will be brought forth any moment now.”

“You may be right,” Ida said.  She was unable to hide her smile though I knew she tried to keep it subdued around me.  Truly, I was ecstatic for her and for Parnell.  Though their child would be a child of Sawyer, I knew Sunniva felt joy when she thought of her impending grandchild.  I hoped it kept her mind from worrying about Camden’s health.  “I have felt pains for the past day now.”

“I cannot wait to see your child,” I said.

Ida’s smile faltered when she saw my things near the bed and realized I was in the room for more than just a visit.  She came to wrap her arms around me, and I heard myself sigh against her.

“How is Branford taking it?” she asked.

“In his usual manner.”

“Has an alert been issued?” she said, trying to smile again though it did not show in her eyes.

“I believe Janet has warned everyone, yes.”  I shook my head.  “His temper has improved.  Unfortunately, that means he is more melancholy.  I believe that frightens the soldiers more than his shouting.”

Ida lowered herself into the chair beside me and leaned back as she tried to find a comfortable position in which to sit.  She placed her hands across her huge belly as she tried to lean toward me and speak softly.

“I’ve heard if you come together every night for a month, you are bound to be with child soon.”

“Just every night?”  I scoffed and placed my sewing on the table beside me.  I saw no reason for discretion with my husband’s sister, and I leaned toward her as well so our heads were nearly touching.  “Ida, your brother is…well, he’s nearly insatiable.  Unless I am staying in the Women’s Room, he takes me as much as three times a day, sometimes more.  Every night and every morning when we are sharing a bed, he is inside of me.”

Ida looked down and her cheeks flushed.

“What will you do?” she asked quietly.

I lifted my shoulders only to drop them again.

“I will pray,” I said.  “What else can I do?”

*****

The day after I left the confines of the Women’s Room, all the nobles were called to court for the usual discussions of state.  King Edgar and his entourage entered the grand hall and strutted through the room to take their seats at the front of the court.  Princess Whitney was there, as usual.  Her only real purpose seemed to be to annoy Branford.  But with Whitney came Hadley, so I could not be disappointed.

Having my lifelong friend here in Silverhelm with me every fortnight was wonderful. We had always been close, and it seemed nothing had changed between the time I left Hadebrand and the time she started visiting Castle Silverhelm as part of King Edgar’s procession.  She was not allowed in the grand hall with the court, but soon after the court adjourned, Hadley was given leave of Whitney for a short time, and she would join me in the gardens.

“It is so good to see you again,” she said as we embraced.  “I know these meetings are hard on you and Silverhelm, but I am glad to be in your company again.”

“As am I,” I agreed.  “How are you faring?”

“Well,” Hadley said with a nod.  “Though I’m not sure exactly what Princess Whitney has in mind.  She seems to be hinting at the possibility of marrying me to someone though I know not who it could be.  I am well past marrying age though, and I’m worried who it may be.  At least I have never been given to a man, so I hope it will be someone of good station.”

“Would you welcome this?” I asked.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Hadley said.  “The idea of leaving her employ and being bound to a man is not distasteful.  However, there are some men who are distasteful themselves.  As long as he is not cruel, even if I am a second wife, at least I will have a chance at a family.”

“Indeed.” I had to agree with my friend.  “I was lucky that Branford chose me though I was not so sure at first.  If it does happen, I hope you will be with a man who is as kind to you as Branford is to me.”

“If you had told me that after I first met him, I would not have believed you!” Hadley giggled and covered her mouth with her hand.  I smiled in return.

“He has his moments,” I replied.

“Recently?”  Hadley’s voice quieted, and I knew of which she spoke.

“In the past few days, actually,” I admitted.  I held nothing back from her.  “It is another month I am not with child, and he is understandably concerned.”

“But you…I mean…you are with him…”

“He takes me often, yes,” I said with a sigh and a smile.  “It is not for lack of effort on his part, of that you may be certain.”

“Then it must only be a matter of time,” my friend said with conviction.  She sounded so sure of her words, and I only wished I could feel as certain as she.

I did not.

A messenger appeared in the garden, informing us that we were required again in the grand hall.  I thought this odd, for the court had already gone about its own business, and the messenger seemed quite sure our presence was needed, not just mine but Hadley’s as well.  We looked at each other questioningly, but we were each as bewildered as the other.  In case we should not get another chance, Hadley and I embraced once again, said our quick goodbyes, and returned swiftly.

Within the hall, Branford sat next to Camden.  As I entered, King Edgar and Princess Whitney stood and began to walk toward Hadley and me.  Whitney’s eyes, narrowed in a cruel smirk, found mine and then looked abruptly away.

“A word, Hadley,” King Edgar said as I continued on my way to my husband’s side, and Hadley stopped to speak to her king.

As I approached, Branford’s gaze met mine, but he quickly looked back toward Camden, his expression furious.  King Camden did not raise his gaze to me but kept his eyes trained on Branford.

“I said I did not wish her to be summoned,” Branford said with a growl under his breath.

“It must be done, Branford,” Camden said quietly with a shake of his head.

“Then I will do it in my own way!”  Branford stood abruptly, his eyes still glaring at his adoptive father.  He huffed out a breath through his nose, closed the distance between us, and grabbed for my hand.  He took a step toward the main doors, where King Edgar still stood with the princess and Hadley, then turned quickly and led me out the small door behind the thrones.

He practically dragged me up the narrow back staircase and threw open the door to the hallway.  Once we were in our own rooms, he shut the door with a crash and turned to me.  I cried out in surprise as he lifted me into his arms and wrapped them tightly around me.

“I never, ever want to hurt you.”  He moaned his words against my neck.  “Never…I love you…cherish you…you are my world…”

“Branford…what are you talking about?”

“Please…my wife…my Alexandra…I need you…”

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.

It was his way.  When he was distressed or angered, he took my body and entered me like a zealot comes to a temple.  There he would worship his troubled thoughts away until he could again think clearly and with the best interests of his people at the forefront of his mind.

This was my sacrifice to Silverhelm.

And what sweet sacrifice it was.

He thrust his hands under my skirts, and he pushed them up and around to the back of my legs.  He pulled at my undergarments, discarding them quickly before his hands captured my bare flesh instead.  I started untying the laces of my bodice though I doubted I would have the chance to take it off.

With his mouth pressed tightly to mine, he lifted me from the floor, turned, and pushed my back against the door to the hallway.

“Branford…someone will hear…”

“Let them listen,” he responded.  “Let them hear what I do to you.”

He reached for his trousers, and they fell quickly to the floor.  I felt the tip of him at my entrance and gasped.  A moment later, he was inside of me, and my head dropped back against the wooden door as he began the measured movements of his hips.  My body hit the door with each thrust, creating a knocking sound that I was sure echoed through the hallways as my mouth turned up into a wry grin.

Yes, people of Silverhelm.  In case you were wondering, this is what your prince does to me.

He tore at the remainder of my clothing as he continued his relentless pounding.  He finished the laces I had started to untie and pulled the whole dress up and over my head without breaking his rhythm.  In turn, I released the ties of his shirt and ran my hands up his chest and down his arms after the garment was tossed to the floor.

Branford pulled out of me, pushed away the clothing that still clung to us, and tossed my naked body over his shoulder.  I squealed as I felt his large, warm hand squeeze my buttocks before he walked us to our bed and tossed me onto the center of it.  He crawled up my body like a wild, hungry animal—with blazing eyes and panting breaths.

Branford’s gaze stayed locked with mine as he rose up on his knees, bringing my legs with him.  He entered me again, slowly pushing and pulling but with increased intensity.  Perhaps it was the way he was looking at me—desperate, needy, longing—that made me realize something was very wrong.  I had no chance to think about it.

With my ankles in his hands, he brought his arms behind his back, wrapping my legs at his hips.  I held on to him as he moved forward, filling me as he reached up above me and grasped the headboard of the bed.

“Hold on tightly to me,” Branford said in a low whisper.  “Tell me if it is too much for you.”

I could only nod in response as his arms tensed, and he gripped the top of the bed with his fingers.  Using the wooden frame for support, he began thrusting into me—slow and hard.

I cried out as he pulled back and entered me roughly.  I reached for his body, and my hands splayed out on his chest as I tried to keep up with his movements.

“Is it too much?” he whispered as he kissed my temple.

“No,” I shook my head.  “Please…more…”

“As you wish,” he murmured, and the speed of his hips increased.

Over and over again, he thrust hard and deep into me, pulling at the headboard with each thrust, using the leverage he gained to nearly lift me off the bed.  I tightened my legs around his waist and lifted my hips up to meet him stroke for stroke.  I grasped the hair at the back of his neck as I looked up to his face.  His eyes were closed and his mouth partially open as his body strained to thrust into me harder and deeper.  The muscles of his arms worked to hold tightly to the top of the bed as he twisted, plunged, and moved inside of me.

He was glorious….magnificent…inhuman in his beauty.

My body rippled, shuddered, clamped down, and let go as I cried out for my husband.  I felt his muscles stiffen as he released into me, and instead of his usual, murmured prayers, he arched his head back and screamed to the heavens.  With the release of his grip on the headboard, his body dropped over mine, and I felt the slickness of the sweat on his chest cover my skin.  He nestled between my neck and shoulder, running his nose along the vessel in my throat, his kisses following the trail.

“You are mine,” he whispered softly against my neck.  “You are all I have ever wanted, my wife…my perfection.  You are what made me a man.”

“Yours,” I moaned back to him, still somewhat incoherent.  “Always.”

“I am yours, too,” he told me.  “No matter what, Alexandra—I belong to you.”

“We belong to each other,” I said.

“I love you so, so much, Alexandra.”

“I love you, Branford.  More than anything.”

He tightened his arms around me, nearly crushing my chest into his.  His labored breathing continued for some time, and his body remained tense even long after his release.  He rolled to his back, still holding me tightly so that I rolled with him.  His eyes were clenched shut, and when I reached up to touch his face, his expression was pained.

“Branford?  What is it?”

He looked at me for a long moment, then cupped his hands around my face and kissed me thoroughly.  He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, holding me to him as his lips molded against mine again and again.

I knew when my husband was agitated, and I knew when he was deflecting.  He was obviously upset about something and trying to distract both of us with his skilled hands and tongue.

“Branford, please,” I said as I broke away from his kiss.  “Tell me what is upsetting you!”

He pushed himself away from me and out of our bed.  He reached for his robe and wrapped it tightly around his shoulders to ward off the chill.  His steps took him near the fire, where he added another log, leaned against the mantle, and tried to calm himself.

I had no idea what had made him so obviously angry, but he spent several minutes composing himself before he turned to me again.  Even then, he did not speak right away.  He went from looking at the fire, to Amarra, to the window, and then made the cycle again but did not seem able to bring his eyes to me.

It was concerning, to say the least.

“I have…news to tell you,” Branford said in a low voice.  He kicked at a wayward piece of bark, propelling it toward the fire.  He stepped to one side, touched Amarra’s head, and then turned to the window.

It was his way of continuing the deflection from whatever subject was on his mind or the overthinking of the same.  I was not sure which.  Whatever he and Camden had spoken of in the grand hall must have been troubling.  Could King Edgar be asking for additional concessions?  We had given him nearly all we could spare.

“What news?” I asked when he did not immediately elaborate.  I sat up, pulling the sheets around my chest to ward off the chilled air.

“Hadley is going to move to Silverhelm,” Branford said so quietly I could hardly hear him.

“She is coming here?” I asked for clarification, but I could not hide my excitement.  I loved my home here and Branford’s family dearly, but I had known Hadley all my life, and we understood one another.  “To live?  In Silverhelm?”

“Yes.”  Again, I could barely hear him.

“This is wonderful!” I exclaimed as I beamed at him, but when I looked closer, my excitement diminished, for Branford had gone quite pale.  I stood and grabbed my own garment for warmth before walking slowly to my again silent husband.

I felt strangely hesitant and somewhat frightened.  These were feelings that were almost completely unfamiliar to me now.  I did not understand why such news would be of concern to my husband.  Surely he did not think Hadley would be a spy from Hadebrand—he had also learned to appreciate and accept her during her visits to Silverhelm.  He had mentioned several times that he wished Hadley would replace Janet in her duties and that he had enjoyed the few times they had spoken together.

I reached out for him as I instinctively tried to make contact with his skin to comfort him though I did not know the reason he needed such reassurance.

“Branford?  What is it?”

He took a step backward and away from me, and the pain in his eyes tore at my heart. He gripped his hands into fists, and the muscles of his arms strained against the pressure he exerted over them.  He looked at me first then turned his head away and closed his eyes.

“She is coming here…”  He halted his word and took another deep breath.  “She is coming here as my concubine.”

And that is when my world shattered.