“It might not be a boy, you know.”

I felt Branford’s arms wrap around my waist as he leaned his chest against my back and kissed my ear.

“It could be a girl,” he said quietly, “but the child is a boy.”

He rested his hands on my hips, and he reached around and wiggled his fingers at my sides.  I laughed and pushed his hands away so I could finish dressing.  Once I had the dress up around my shoulders, Branford quickly laced up the back of the bodice—a chore which he had adopted since I had yet to find a new handmaid.  In reality, he had become as adept at tying up the laces of my dresses as he was at untying them. As he finished, he trailed his fingers around to my front where they gently rubbed my belly.

As soon as Branford had overcome his shock the previous night, he had carried me to our rooms and lay me down in the bed.  For hours afterwards, he held me and stroked his hand over my stomach though there was not yet any visible evidence of what we presumed was hidden inside my womb.

Branford turned me around and placed his lips on my forehead.

“I will love our child, be it boy or girl,” Branford said as he looked down at me.  “It is not so much that I have a true preference though a male heir must come eventually.  I will cherish any child from your body, regardless.  I just…I feel that he is my son.  I am sure of it.”

I raised my eyebrows a little as I examined his expression.  There was no doubting the sincerity of his words. I only wondered how he could be so sure and hoped he would not be too disappointed if our first child was a girl.  I reached up to place my fingers against his cheek, and Branford turned his head to kiss my hand.  As I watched my husband’s eyes, they became intense and dark though seemingly with worry and not desire.  He took my face in his hands and leaned forward to press his lips against my mouth, kissing me deeply for a long moment as I wrapped my arms around his neck.  When he broke away, there was still anxiety in his eyes.

“Branford, what troubles you?”

“Do you know how tempting it is now,” he said softly as his fingers brushed over my cheek, “to lock you away in some tower where no harm can come to you?  It will take all of my strength to stop myself from doing just that.”

His gaze settled on my stomach for a moment before it met my eyes again.

“Though Silverhelm does not, Sterling Castle has such a tower.  At least, it did before Edgar tore it apart.  Perhaps it is best I have no control over it, for if it were still in my possession, I would undoubtedly make use of it.”

I worried my lip, biting it and tasting Branford on me in the process.  I considered his words and wondered if he truly meant them.  By the look in his eye, I had to admit I would not have been shocked to have him consider such an action quite seriously.  I tried to push the thought from my mind and distract him from such ponderings as well, for the idea of being locked up in a high tower in such a way caused a shiver to run through my body.

“Did someone live there?” I asked.

“That is where our guards—my mentors—lived,” Branford said.  “The ones who betrayed my family.”

He lowered his hand down my body until it reached my midsection, and he placed the palm of his hand over my stomach as I covered his fingers with my own.

“I did not think you could become more precious to me,” Branford said, “but you have.”

His lips brushed mine once more.

“I love you, Alexandra.”

“I love you, Branford,” I replied.

Branford smiled and took my hand before leading me first to breakfast and then to the practice field.  I took along my sewing and spent most of the day working on a shirt I was making for my husband out of the green silk he had purchased for me when we were first married.  He had bought so much fabric, I wondered if I would ever use it all.  Then it occurred to me that I would now have someone else to whom I could devote my sewing skills.  I smiled as I held up Branford’s shirt, already considering how I would make one to match in a much smaller size.

I touched my belly as I leaned back and looked out over the field.  A young recruit from the borderlands swung his sword haphazardly at Parnell as the experienced knight danced away effortlessly.  Branford further instructed the young man though the novice did not appear to be grasping the proper movements, and I could see my husband’s frustration in his stance.

Eventually, he waved the young man away, drew his own sword, and attacked Parnell.  The two went at it for several minutes, and I must admit I found it hard not to watch the muscles in Branford’s arms and back as he swung his sword.  I found myself daydreaming of the previous night as the same hands had caressed my body so gently.

A call from the road distracted Branford from his battle and me from my fantasy.  All eyes in the field turned as Sir Rylan rode up on his steed with a farmer’s cart behind him, a pair of slow mares pulling it steadily over the muddy road.  Sir Rylan’s arm waved in the air, and I stood to accompany Branford to where the knight had brought his horse to a halt.

“I have a gift for you,” Sir Rylan said.  He looked at me for a moment.  “Perhaps Queen Alexandra should return to the castle first.”

“My queen stays at my side,” Branford told him.  “What gift?”

“I would like to discuss the terms of the gift first, if we may.”

Branford’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at our ally.

“Explain.”

Sir Rylan swung his leg up and over the saddle and dropped down next to his horse.  Michael stepped forward and grasped the reins, moving the large animal off to the side and out of the way.

“You asked for the heads of Lady Kimberly and Sir Leland,” Rylan said.  “You have offered a substantial bounty for them both—more if brought to you alive.”

“I have,” Branford said with a nod.

“I want you to remove the bounty on Sir Leland.”

“Because he is of your blood?” Branford asked as his upper lip curled into a sneer.  “Lady Kimberly is of my own blood, I will have you know.  It will not prevent her from receiving punishment for her treachery against my kingdom!”

“Not because he is of my blood, no.”  Sir Rylan took a deep breath as he looked off toward the cart.  “However, my uncle favors him.  My uncle will still provide you with men, but he wants the price on Sir Leland’s head lifted.”

“He was part of this plot,” Branford said with a growl.  “You heard it from my own cousin’s mouth.  He was part of it from the beginning.  He interfered with a royal bloodline.  How could I possibly let that slide?”

“I intend to compensate you for it,” Sir Rylan stated.

“How?”

“You will cancel the bounty?”

“What compensation?” Branford said, demanding an answer.  “What could possibly be offered in return for this grievous favor?”

“In return, I will give you this.” Sir Rylan took a few steps backwards until he reached the edge of the cart.  Branford followed and we all peered into the back as Sir Rylan yanked back a rough blanket that covered a form lying in a pile of straw.

It was Lady Kimberly—bound and gagged in the back of the farmer’s cart.

“I need no other payment,” Rylan added.

Though I could feel the tension vibrating through the air as Branford’s hands clenched into fists, I was too consumed by my own thoughts as I looked down at the woman.  Nelle’s words entered my head in a rush, reminding me that it was Kimberly’s conniving and information about Branford’s past that allowed Janet to exploit my sympathy and compassion and allowed her treachery into our rooms.

It was Lady Kimberly’s plot to kill Branford’s children as they tried to grow inside of me.

In an instant, my mind traveled to a place it had never before encountered.  My vision became focused on the woman in the cart, and my limbs tensed as my throat constricted.  She was the one who started this plan by revealing information about Branford’s past to his enemies.  She was the one who devised the idea to kill Branford’s children, to deny him an heir, and to force him to take the concubine he did not desire.

A screech unlike any heard before came from my lungs as I lunged onto the cart and began pounding my fists into the former noblewoman’s face.  She cringed back, as if she could bury herself within the straw below her, but I was unrelenting.  She had no escape, and my hands burned and ached as they made contact with her head and shoulders.

I felt arms gently encircle my waist, but I paid them no heed—I just continued to rain blows down upon the woman below me.  Even as the arms pulled me backwards off the cart, I screamed incoherently at her as I reached out as far as I could, trying to inflict whatever damage I could to the horrible woman who caused all of this suffering.

“Shh…hush, my wife.” I heard Branford’s voice as I struggled against his restraint.  “She cannot harm you now…remember who you carry inside of you.  Do not be upset; do not endanger our son with your anger.”

His words stilled me, and I no longer fought as he pulled me away from the wretched view of the woman in the cart.  After he dragged me several feet, he stopped, turned me around to face him, and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

I let my cheek press into the cool links of his chainmail shirt, finding the feel of the armor on my skin strangely comforting as tears streamed down my face.  I fought back choking sobs as Branford continued to run his hand over my hair and whisper quietly in my ear.

“Kill her,” I choked out.  “I want her to die.”

“I shall,” Branford said, making his words a promise.  “She will.”

Footsteps approached us.

“What do you say to my bargain?” Sir Rylan asked quietly.

I felt Branford’s body stiffen, and he was as still as a statue for several moments.  He glared down at the woman in the straw, and the muscles of his jaw clenched.

“I will lift the bounty,” Branford said softly, “but that will not spare Sir Leland’s life should I come across him personally.  Whether he is in my lands, in your own, or at tournament—if I see Sir Leland again, he will die by my hand.”

“Understood, King Branford.”  Sir Rylan took a step forward and offered Branford his arm.  Branford reached out and grasped the other knight’s forearm.

My husband took a slight step toward the cart, and I could see Lady Kimberly’s body still and her eyes widen as he approached.  The side of her face was bruised, and there was a small cut on her lip from where I had hit her.  He looked down at her with as much hatred as I had ever seen.

Branford brushed his hand down my arm.

“Alexandra,” Branford said softly and without looking in my direction, “return to our rooms.”

“I want to stay,” I told him.  I reached up to brush tears from my face.

“No,” Branford said with a shake of his head.

“She did this to me, too!” I yelled back at him suddenly, and Branford turned—his fingers gripping my shoulders.

“You are not staying for this, my wife,” he said most adamantly.  “After Janet, you had nightmares, or do you not remember?  I will have nothing jeopardize my son!”

I glared up at him.  It was true. I hadn’t slept for a week after Janet’s execution, and every time I walked past a fire, the smell of charred flesh invaded my memory.

“I want to stay,” I repeated.

“Absolutely not.”  Branford called over to Michael to take me back to the castle, refusing to look me in the eye.

I grabbed for Branford’s hand and moved myself back into his line of vision.

“I am not to leave your side,” I reminded him.

He looked directly at me.

“Alexandra,” he repeated, “I want you to return to our rooms.  Stay there until I come for you.  Michael will accompany you and remain outside the door.”

“What are you going to do?” I demanded.

Branford’s eyes blazed for a moment but then tightened and darkened.

“I’m going to slowly and publicly torture her to death,” he stated.  “I do not want you to see what is going to happen to her.  Once her head is on a pike at the front of the castle, you’ll be able to see the results, just as everyone will.”

I steeled myself and tried to stand up taller.

“I want to be there,” I insisted again.  “I want to know what is done to her.”

“I will tell you,” Branford said, “but you will not watch.”

“What will you do?” I asked, pressing him for an answer.

Branford’s eyes further darkened.

“She is going to suffer,” Branford said as he snarled through clenched teeth.  “She is going to suffer because you have suffered.  Because I have suffered.  Because all of Silverhelm has suffered for what she did.”

“But I am not to be away from you!” I said again.  “If you are there, I must be there as well.”

“I want her blood on my hands.” Branford growled low as he stared at the helpless woman in the cart.  Kimberly’s eyes brimmed over with tears as she cried almost soundlessly into the cloth tied around her mouth.  “But it is not a good place for you…for our child.”

“Branford…you promised,” I whispered and immediately looked away from him.  I could feel the heat in my cheeks as the words came out of my mouth.  What I was doing was horrible, but I could not bear the thought of him doing such a thing without being there myself.  If I had to use his words against him to make sure I also witnessed her punishment, I was willing to do so.

“What do you mean?” he asked, and I felt his finger underneath my chin, trying to tilt my head up to face him.  “Promised what?”

“That you would not leave my side again,” I said.  “You said you would not leave me to the protection of others, but you will now leave me with Michael?”

“You are only going from the field to the castle,” Branford said.  “I will be there as soon as I am…finished.”

“What if…what if I need protection?” I heard myself ask.  “How can I be without you when I remember how close she was to me all that time?  You said you would not leave me, Branford.”

I could no longer look into his eyes and, instead, pressed my forehead to his chest.  I knew exactly what I was doing—using Branford’s fears to my own advantage.  But I was not afraid to watch what they would do to her.  I wanted to know exactly how she would suffer for what she had done to us.  I did not want to be stuck in our rooms alone while Branford exacted revenge that should be mine as well.

I felt the rise of Branford’s chest as he breathed deeply, and I felt his breath escape over the top of my head.

“Michael!  Parnell!” he called out as he turned from me.  The two men walked over to us.  “I am taking my queen away from this.  Prepare Lady Kimberly for public execution, and let me know when it is complete.  I want it slow, and I want it painful, and I want her to suffer.  In the end, I want to see her head displayed as a reminder to all how I feel about disloyalty.”

“Yes, my king,” Parnell replied with a nod.

While I tried to understand what had just been said, Branford walked with me a few steps and then stopped.  He turned me toward him and placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Stand right here,” he instructed before he spun on his heel and walked back to the cart.  He spoke quickly into Parnell’s ear before approaching the cart.  From where I was, I could see him lean over the bound Lady Kimberly and grab her by her hair.  He painfully pulled her head back and spoke, but I could not hear his words to her.  As Branford placed his head close to her ear and growled low, Lady Kimberly’s eyes went wide, then squeezed tightly shut as she began to twist her body and fight against her bindings.

“Come, Alexandra,” Branford said as he released the doomed woman and walked back to my side.  “I will escort you to our rooms.”

“What?”  I stopped and took a step back toward the field.  “What are you doing?”

“We are both going back to the castle,” Branford said simply.

“But what of Lady Kimberly?”

“You heard what I instructed.”

“But I want to be there!”

“You are not going to be there,” Branford told me.  “I will not have you upset and unable to sleep while you carry my son.  You were right—I did promise to stay at your side, and I will abide by that promise.  You reminded me of my duty and gave me the options that were acceptable to you.  I chose the option acceptable to me.  We will both be inside when she is killed.”

With that, he took my hand and wrapped it around his arm before he began to lead me away from the field.  He snapped at Dunstan to have someone bring my sewing up to me and then proceeded to the gates.  As we approached the entrance to the castle, Branford leaned close to my ear and spoke in low tones so no one else would hear.

“But I will have you know, wife,” he murmured, “that my body is tense because of what I would have done.  I will need some distraction for the rest of the afternoon.  By calling me from this, I will be sure to take my excess energies out on your body instead.  Do we understand each other?”

I glanced up at him, momentarily concerned about the implication of his words, but when I saw the mirth and lust in his eyes, I knew very well his meaning.

“If that is what it takes to keep you at my side,” I replied.  I tried to shrug nonchalantly, but my blush and shiver gave me away as he touched the side of my face.

*****

I slept late again the next day, waking to the sound of voices in the morning room.  Branford was speaking to Parnell and Rylan though when I spied through the bed curtains, I could see Branford’s chair was still angled so he could look to where I was at the same time.

“It makes no sense,” Parnell was saying.  “They aren’t destroying the whole thing; they are taking bits of it apart and putting it back together again.”

“They have to be searching for something,” Rylan replied in his characteristic deep voice.  “At least, that was the speculation from my source.”

“Do we not have spies there to give you information?” Parnell asked.

“There is a trusted man there,” Branford said softly, “but I cannot reach out to him.  He would be jeopardized, and I need him where he is.”

For a moment, the men were silent.  Then Parnell’s voice rang out again.

“There is still danger here, my king.”

“My men will patrol the borders as much as they can,” Rylan said, “but we cannot surround the entire Kingdom of Silverhelm.  There will always be the possibility of a breach.”

“Parnell, are there new recruits available if I wish to take some of the more seasoned men for duty in the castle?”

“Yes, what do you need?”

“I want additional guards—men you trust implicitly—around Alexandra at all times.  She and my unborn son must be protected.  I will remain at her side, but I may not always be enough.

“There is something else,” Parnell said, his tone hesitant.

“What is it?”

“Rylan found more information on Janet and her family.”

“Tell me!”

“Though her parents are long dead, there is a living sibling,” Rylan said.

“Where?”

“Unknown,” Parnell said, “but I do know his name.”

“And it is?”

“His name is Kolby, my king”

There was a long pause.

“Kolby?” Branford’s voice was just a whisper.

“We believe him to be the same, yes.”

“First Dalton surfaces within my borders, and now we find my wife’s handmaid was the sister to one of the men that murdered my parents?”

“Yes.”

“How was this not discovered before?” Branford bellowed.

“I went back to a previous source,” Parnell said.  “At the time, he claimed to know nothing, but when the deaths of Janet and Nelle were publicized, he decided to come clean with his knowledge.”

“He withheld this from us before?”

“Yes, sire.”

“Where is he now?” Branford growled.

“Quite dead, sire.”

“Good.  Repost the bounty on Yagmur and Salik.  If Dalton has reappeared, those other two are certainly close by.  Let it be known they may be in nearby territory, probably in Hadebrand.”

“Already done, sire,” Parnell replied.

“Good man.”

“If those two are both shown to be loyal to Hadebrand,” Branford said, “there could be proof of Edgar’s involvement in my parents’ murders.”

“My king”—I heard Parnell take a deep breath before he continued—“if there were such proof, we would have found it by now.”

“If only I had the strength of men to openly go against him.”

“Seacrest has only agreed to protection, not to go to war.”  Sir Rylan’s deep voice reminded my husband.

“I know,” Branford said with a sigh.  “Rylan, if you would just give me a hundred and fifty men—”

“Just a hundred and fifty, King Branford?” Rylan scoffed.  “How large an army do you think I command?  I have to protect my own lands as well, you know.  Considering our alliance with Silverhelm, we are now also potentially a target for Hadebrand.”

“They would not make a move against you,” Branford said.

“Agreed,” said Parnell.  “Your presence will keep them from our borders indefinitely.”

“How long do you think we will be needed?” Rylan asked.

“Until my heir is born,” Branford replied.  “Alexandra will not be safe until then.”

“It is amazing what the love of a woman will do to you, is it not?” Rylan said quietly.  Both Branford and Parnell chuckled in response.

“I would go to war for her in a heartbeat,” Branford finally said, “irrespective of the odds.  I would take on all of Hadebrand’s army myself if they stood between Alexandra and me.”

“I would do the same for Suzette,” Rylan replied.

“And I for Ida.”

All three of them chuckled again, and I decided to make my wakefulness known.  Branford ushered the men out of the morning room so he could help me dress.

“You could have gone to the great hall to meet,” I said as Branford tied the last of my laces.

“I did not want to wake you.”

“I could have stayed here.

“Not alone.”  I could feel him shake his head behind me.  “Not without me at your side.”

His lips pressed against the side of my neck.

“There are all these preparations we must make for the child,” he said, reminding me.  He gestured to the area not far from our bed where we had planned to make room for the baby.  “I would not leave you to do those alone.”

“Samantha and Sunniva are both planning to come here to assist,” I said.

“Nevertheless”—he breathed into my ear—“I will not leave your presence.  Before we begin such things, do you…do you wish to go to the castle wall?”

His hesitancy clued me in to the meaning of his words.  The castle wall was, without a doubt, where the head of Lady Kimberly was now on display, and he wished to go validate the deed had been done.  Not that he would question that his orders had been carried out, but he would still wish to see the outcome for himself.

“You do not have to look,” Branford said quietly as he turned me around to face him.  “Just keep your eyes to the ground.”

“I wish to see her,” I replied.

Branford inhaled deeply before exhaling in a huff through his nose.

“As you wish,” he said.

Branford led me slowly into the courtyard of the castle and past the nearly empty marketplace.  As we left through the gates, I could see why the shops were so empty, for everyone seemed to be in the field just outside the castle walls.

All eyes peered upwards.

Jutting out from the castle wall, stuck onto the end of a long pike, was the head of Lady Kimberly of Sterling, her long, golden-blonde hair cascading out and around her ashen cheeks.

I felt myself stumble slightly, and Branford’s arms pulled me up against his chest.  I pushed his hands from me and stared up into her lifeless eyes.

“Good,” I heard myself say.  “I hate her.  How could she do that to—”

Branford pulled me back against his body and gently silenced me.

“She cannot hurt you again,” he whispered into my ear.  “Never, ever again, my wife.”

*****

As Branford’s child grew in my womb, he kept his promise.

He was never far enough away to not have me within his sight and was usually within just a few feet of me.  He still trained his men in the field and had Michael and the other pages build a small structure next to the stables where I could sit within his view but without a draft.  There was even a place where a fire could be kept banked.  I was never turned away from meetings with the court, and even when Branford spoke with Father Tucker, he bade me stay inside the chapel where he could still see me while he and the Father spoke quietly near the altar.

It should have driven me insane to be so close to Branford at all times, but it did not.

This surprised me.

Sunniva chastised him for hovering around me constantly, and though Branford still respected his adoptive mother, he took his role as king quite seriously and eventually told her not to mention it again, for he was not going to change his position.  Later, when Branford was speaking to Parnell and Ida, I whispered into Sunniva’s ear that she did not have to worry, for I did not mind Branford’s closeness.

He was close to me in the nights as well.

This also surprised me.

I would have thought his desire for my body would have decreased since he had already started a child inside me.  At the very least, as my body changed, I would have expected him not to find me as pleasing to look upon, but he continued to insist I was more beautiful as time went by.  Indeed, he did spend inordinate amounts of time touching my growing stomach, backside, and breasts.

My breasts were certainly the most pleasing to him, and he used any and every excuse to touch them.  Before I was with child, Branford would sneak me away to seduce me, claiming the need for a child as the reason.  Now that he did not have such a compelling reason, he would sometimes resort to whining and moaning his way underneath the bodice of my dress so he could touch and kiss my breasts.

It was maddening.

And wonderful.

I set down the blanket Sunniva had taught me to crochet, the edges finally completed.  It did not look as good as the one she had made, but I was still proud of it.  I stood and stretched, stepping lightly from one foot to the other.  It amazed me how much my feet would stiffen up just from sitting!  I glanced over at the fire and saw it had turned to coals, so I moved to the stack of wood.  As I started to pick up a piece, I felt Branford’s hand on my arm.

“I will get that,” he said.

I looked up at him and smiled.

“I thought I was supposed to serve you,” I said, teasing.

His kissed my nose and placed his hand against my belly.

“You serve me in the most important way,” he said, and I felt my cheeks redden at his words.

As Branford rebuilt the fire, I folded the small blanket into the cradle gifted to us from Lord and Lady Sawyer.  It rocked slightly as I bumped it with my leg and it thumped against the wall a few times before I could steady it with my hand.  I reached back, trying to scoot the whole thing away from the wall a bit when I lost my balance and knocked into the table behind me.  The contents of the table spilled across the floor.

“Alexandra!”

Branford rushed over to steady me, but I had not really been in danger of falling.

“I am fine,” I said to reassure him.

“Let me get that,” Branford said as I started picking things up from the floor.

“I am still capable!”  I could not help the giggle that escaped me because I could not see the floor over my protruding stomach in order the reach all the fallen items.

Branford stood, grasped me by my hips and picked me up.  The act was not as easy as it had been for him before my stomach was so large.  He deposited me on the edge of the bed and took my face in his hands.  He brushed his thumbs over my cheekbones as he smiled down at me.

“At least you are smiling today,” he said.  “When you were so upset over that cup of cider last night, I was not sure what I was going to do with you.”

I blushed, for I had not known what to think either.  I had simply upset Branford’s mug and had then been unable to stop crying about it. He had finally called for Sunniva to calm me, but I fell asleep before she had even arrived.  I tried to reach for the items on the floor again, but Branford stopped me.

“Let me get it,” Branford said again.  He pecked at my lips and then dropped down next to the bed to start bringing everything from the floor back to the table.  There was my copy of the Holy Scriptures, the comb I had worn in my hair the day before, an empty mug, and the bowl made by my mother.  Branford placed them all on the table except for the mug, which he carried over to the morning room so the kitchen servants could retrieve it later.

I sighed and shook my head at myself before I arranged the items on the table.

“Oh no,” I said as I picked up the bowl.  There was a small piece of the carved wood missing from the bottom.  I managed to get myself off the bed and felt around on the floor until I found the piece that had broken off.  I turned the bowl over in my hands and held the small slender piece up to where it had obviously broken off from the rest of the bowl.

As I turned it over to see the bottom, I noticed something strange.  There seemed to be a hole in the bottom of the bowl now, not just where the piece would fit back inside, but further into the base of the bowl itself.  I tilted it to get a better look and confirmed there was a small opening in the bottom of the bowl itself—just big enough for me to slide two fingers inside.  When I further examined the piece that had broken off, I realized it was not broken at all but had simply managed to slide out of place.

Now that I could see how it worked, I easily replaced and removed the piece many times.  It was simple enough; with a little pressure in just the right spot, I effortlessly slid the movable piece over.  There didn’t appear to be anything inside of this bowl, but it would certainly be a clever place to hide something from prying eyes.

I put the bowl back with the piece returned to its proper spot on the table.  As it sat there, one could see no indication it was anything other than the carved bowl it had always been, but now that I knew its secret, I could see the base was much thicker than the sides.

“Did you see this?” Branford said as he walked back from the morning room to the side of the bed.  “Sunniva left it last night after you had already fallen asleep.”

Branford dropped a sack on the bed and untied the bindings.  Inside there were several articles of clothing for an infant.

“Apparently, these were once worn by me,” Branford said with a crooked smile.

I ran my hand up his arm.

“I do not think that is possible.”  I snickered.  “You were never so tiny!”

“I am sure you are right,” he replied with a laugh.  “I think Sunniva will like seeing our son in this clothing.”

“It may not at all be appropriate for a girl-child,” I said as I glanced at him sideways.  Branford still insisted the child would be a boy, but I had my doubts.  I reminded him often, just to make sure he would not be too shocked if the first child was not as he foresaw.

“Hmm…” Branford hummed and looked through the tiny shirts and breeches, handing them to me one at a time.  They were all so small, and I could not quite fathom how to care for someone so very tiny.  In my head, I saw the child with bright green eyes, wearing the little silk nightgown of red Branford placed in my hands.

The material slid through my fingers as I thought about what the child would look like as I held it to my breast, Branford’s ever-watchful eye looking over my shoulder at us.  He would kiss the side of my neck and place his hand on the babe’s head…

“Alexandra? Are you still with me?”

I glanced up at Branford’s smiling face and felt my own face redden.

“I am sorry,” I said quietly.  “I was lost in my thoughts.”

“What were you thinking about that made you smile so?” Branford asked as he sat beside me and pushed my hair over my shoulder.

“Our child,” I said.  I looked down at my stomach and placed my hand on top of the bulge.  Branford wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to his chest.

“Seeing you like this,” he said quietly, “is all I really want in life.  Just to see you smile—to be this happy.  It is all I want for you.  Boy or girl…”

His mouth turned up into a blinding smile.

“It matters not.  Just seeing you like this…it is everything to me.”

*****

I gasped and cried out as Branford moved slowly against me, his chest pressed closely to my back as he gently took me from behind.  I reached back to his hip, holding him against me as we both lay on our sides.  He wrapped his hand around my bulging middle, and his lips kissed trails over my shoulder as he took his time bringing about his climax.  He held my body tight against his as he moaned out my name against my neck.

With closed eyes, I lay in my husband’s embrace as I listened to his heavy breaths slowly begin to diminish.  The child in my belly kicked underneath Branford’s hand, and my husband gently rubbed the spot.

“He is tired of sleeping,” Branford said.

“It is time for us to rise,” I informed my husband.

“I already have.”  He laughed at his own jest.  “Twice this morning.”

“I thought you would no longer wish to indulge in such behavior in the morning,” I replied.  “Our child should be born within the month.  Are you not wasting your seed on me?”

“Never a waste with you.”  Branford’s hair brushed over my back as he shook his head.  I felt his hand creep around my neck and he turned my head to face him.  “Is it uncomfortable for you?”

“No,” I whispered as I felt my cheeks heat with my blush.  “Not when we lie like this.  When I am on my back, though, your child has a habit of kicking my ribs.”

“He is strong,” Branford said with a smile and then returned to his favorite subject.  “As long as you do not complain, I will continue to want you all the time.  Besides, I do not want to become unskilled.  Once you give birth to my son, we will have to start working on a daughter.”

He moved his hand from my stomach to my breast—heavy and full as it also awaited the birth of our child.

“You must tell me if you wish me to stop,” Branford said, reminding me as his thumb brushed my nipple.  It was so sensitive, even the smallest of touches made me shiver.  “I can see how much harder it is for you to move around, and you know if you do not spell something out to me, I am not going to notice it on my own.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Good.”  Branford kissed the edge of my jaw and then up into my hair.  I giggled as his rough cheek tickled the back of my neck, but eventually I had to push him away so we could dress.  We were to visit Sawyer on this day and needed to leave before the morning hour grew too late.  Branford himself had to go to choose a dozen warhorses for his new cavalry recruits, which meant that I had to accompany him since I was still never outside of his presence.

Both Branford and Michael had to assist me into the carriage when we were finally ready to leave.  I could barely successfully climb the narrow steps when I was not heavy with child, and now it was nearly impossible.  Once I was settled into my seat, and Branford was reassured I was comfortable enough for him to stop fussing over me, our accompaniment of guards surrounded the carriage, and we were off.

Though Edgar and Hadebrand had been strangely silent since the wretched tea was revealed by Nelle, Branford had never become complacent when it came to my protection.  He was even more adamant as my belly grew.  True to his word, I had barely been out of his sight since that day, and I could have counted on one hand the times I was not at his side.  I had learned much about the kingdoms during that time, probably much more than Branford had planned on sharing with me.

Sir Leland had gone into hiding once he discovered that his heritage would only protect him so far.  Branford and I made regular treks to Seacrest to discuss the relationship between Seacrest and Silverhelm with King Liam and to talk about the further protection Sir Rylan offered with his troops along our borders.  Branford still hoped to catch sight of Sir Leland so he could execute his own justice over him.

I had to admit to myself that Sir Leland’s part in the plot against us was not as great as Janet’s or Branford’s cousins, but I would not turn away if Branford were to cut him down.  After feeling that sense of satisfaction at seeing Lady Kimberly’s head displayed on the castle wall, I had to admit I was a far more bloodthirsty queen than I ever would have imagined.

Branford worried my new attitude would change me for the worse, but I did not think so.  I still made my rounds to the refugees who came to our castle gates, and I still cared for Branford as best I could as his child—his son, he still insisted—wore my body down.

After an hour, I found myself tired out just from sitting and was mildly annoyed with Branford for waking me early with his lustful desires when we had such a long day ahead of us.  It was too warm in the carriage as well, and though I fanned myself continuously, there was to be no relief from the heat of near-summer.

“Why don’t you try to rest?” Branford said.

“Do you not think I would rest if I could?”  I snapped at him before I realized the words were forming on my tongue.  “You are the reason I am so tired in the first place!”

“Alexandra!” Branford stared at me in shock.  “Whatever is wrong with you?”

I tensed, realizing what I had just said to my husband and king and the way in which I said it.

“Branford…I…”  I let my voice trail off, unsure what I could even say.  I half expected him to cuff me for such insolence though he had never done such a thing.  I glanced up and saw him looking at me sideways, his expression one of both anger and confusion.  Our child chose that moment to kick out at my already bruised ribs and cause me to wince.

Branford moved slightly closer to me and tentatively ran his hand over my stomach.

“Shh, little one,” he said quietly.  “It is all right.”

One of the babe’s feet pushed again at my stomach, this time against Branford’s hand.  I watched my husband’s half-grin as he rubbed his thumb over the spot where the child had kicked.

“So strong,” Branford said.  He looked back up at my face and followed the movement of his hand with his eyes.  He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and then turned me toward him, his voice still soft.  “You must be so tired of carrying him.  I know he has made it hard for you to sleep, and the heat of the day is uncomfortable for you.”

“I am so sorry, my king,” I whispered, but he hushed me with his lips.

“As soon as we reach Sawyer Castle, I will make sure you are taken to the lower levels, where it is cooler.  You will be more comfortable there and may even be able to nap while I gather the horses.”

I could only nod in response, glad Branford seemed to understand my reaction better than I did myself.  It occurred to me that he had spoken with Sunniva only a fortnight ago when I had been unable to stop crying after dropping that cup of cider.

Though it was too warm for such closeness, I lay my head on Branford’s shoulder as he fanned my face.  At least I could close my eyes for a time though I was not able to doze. The road was simply too rocky, and the carriage bumped along too much.  I wondered if we could possibly put some of the refugees to work smoothing out the road between Silverhelm and Sawyer and was about to mention it to Branford when the carriage came to an abrupt stop.

Branford lay his hand against my cheek as he encouraged to me to sit up so he could check on the trouble outside.  As he moved toward the carriage door, two of the guards rode up to the side of the carriage, and Branford peered out at them.

“My king—the road is blocked.”

“By whom?” Branford asked.  “We are in Silverhelm.  No one should block the road from me!”

“I do not know, my king, but there are many soldiers…”

“Soldiers?” Branford whispered low as his eyes darted over to glance first at my eyes and then at my belly.

And that was when I knew we were in danger.