Chapter Six
William
Warm sunlight awoke William. The bedchamber was quiet, save for the whispering of the sheets as he stretched.
Iver was gone, the spot he’d occupied empty.
It was to be expected—nobody slept past noon like William.
His shoulders should’ve sagged with relief that he was alone—no nagging, no criticism, no judgment—but instead, emptiness filled his chest. He’d known Iver wouldn’t stay in bed this long, but for some reason, William had wanted him to be there.
Normally, he would’ve lounged between the sheets for another half hour, but this was going to be a busy day. With half-closed eyes, he dragged himself out of bed, washed, and stumbled into the dressing room.
He rummaged through his wardrobe, selecting a gold-embroidered, red velvet robe and an ermine cloak. A gilded brooch here, a ruby ring there, and he was almost ready to face the day. Now, where were his silk shoes? He’d worn them yesterday… Had he kicked them off before climbing into bed?
William returned to the bedchamber, and for the first time that day, he really looked—and discovered things were missing. Not only had his shoes disappeared, but everything that’d been scattered on the floor was gone.
He spun around, scanning the room. Besides the furniture, nothing was in its place.
Disgruntled, William looked for his shoes under the bed.
Nothing. He checked the bottom of the cabinet but couldn’t find them there either.
The wardrobes in the dressing rooms contained his clothes and jewelry, but neither the shoes he was looking for nor the items that’d disappeared from the bedchamber, though he wasn’t sure of everything he was missing.
He didn’t recall anything of value lying around and doubted anyone would steal from him. It left one explanation: Iver had the chamber tidied up while William had been asleep. And now he couldn’t find anything!
Releasing a heavy sigh, William stalked into the Green Room, hoping to find Iver having a late breakfast, but he wasn’t there.
He checked the drawing room and the library, but no luck.
Finally, his patience wearing thin, William stormed into the study, letting the door bang against the wood-paneled wall.
He found Iver at his desk, absorbed in paperwork.
“Where is everything?” William asked, waving in the direction of the bedchamber.
Iver looked up from the letter he was crafting, his cool gaze gliding over William. “Good morning to you too.”
William set his jaw. “I just woke up and can’t find anything. What did you do?”
“What I did?” Iver’s sharp accent cut the air.
He replaced his quill in the inkwell and rose to his feet.
Faster than William could blink, he stood in front of him, mere inches separating their faces.
It startled William’s heart into a race, blood pounding in his ears.
Iver stared him down. “The room was a mess, so I called my chambermaid to tidy up.”
Iver’s chambermaid. That explained a lot. No servant of William’s would’ve dared. “You sent her in while I was sleeping? Are you insane?”
Iver sneered. “She was quiet, wasn’t she?”
“That’s not the point!”
“What is it then? Are you afraid of a chambermaid? I was two doors down the entire time. I would’ve torn her to shreds had she harmed a hair on your head.”
The fire in Iver’s eyes sent a shiver down William’s back.
Iver was so intense. Protective. William would do well to remember it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with his rank.
Royalty didn’t let royalty get harmed on their watch.
Plus, as Iver had pointed out, William was required for the production of an heir.
“Don’t ever send someone in for cleaning while I sleep.”
“Sure,” Iver said with such infuriating indifference that it didn’t feel like William had won the argument.
“Now, where’s that chambermaid? I need her to show me where she hid my shoes.” William gestured at his bare feet.
Iver chuckled—did he want to get punched?
“I sent her to prepare the throne room for the ceremony later today.” William was going to have a fit.
Iver was now deciding how and when the throne room was readied?
Rage boiled, but Iver gave him no time to launch into a tirade.
“Before you run after her, there’s something you should look at. While I was working—”
“Why are you working on our wedding day?” William erupted. “Who does that?”
Iver raised an eyebrow. “Someone who takes their duties seriously. I can see you don’t.
Because just as I was going to say, while I was working, I spotted this.
” Without looking, he swiped a sealed letter off the desk, holding it an inch from William’s face.
It had James’s red wax seal with its stag coat of arms on it.
“For how long has it been sitting there?”
William didn’t answer the question. The truth was a week, but Iver would die of shock if he said that.
Iver took a step back, creating space between them. For reasons William couldn’t explain, he didn’t like it.
“Considering who it’s from, this looks important and urgent.” Iver’s tone was milder. “I wonder why you haven’t opened the letter.” It didn’t sound like an accusation.
How could William explain without sounding like a fool?
How could a man of Iver’s confidence understand the cold dread an ordinary missive caused William?
How to justify that a piece of paper paralyzed him?
That it sent him on a frenzy of sex and alcohol that would allow him to forget about his duties for one more night?
Alcohol, though… he didn’t crave it this morning.
Huh. That had to be another effect of the fruit.
“I didn’t open the missive because I wouldn’t know what to do with its contents,” William said truthfully.
“Shall we have a look together?”
Iver didn’t wait for his response. He broke the seal and unfolded the letter, spreading the pages on the desk.
The missive contained a hastily scribbled message.
The orcs were closing in on James’s ancestral home of Castlehill and on Somerdale, the residence of James’s cousin, Richard.
Other southern castles had already fallen, particularly in the western valleys.
James feared the orcs would advance in the west, circle around and attack his and Richard’s holdings from both north and south.
It’d cut them off from the rest of the kingdom, making their territories easy targets to conquer and plunder.
Over the warmer months, James had expended all his resources to thwart the orcs, and he claimed to be in desperate need of William and the northern nobility’s assistance.
“What do you think?” Iver asked.
William worried his bottom lip. What did he think? He mulled James’s words over.
“It’s not a trick question,” Iver said when he didn’t answer. “I genuinely want to know what you make of the letter and the situation at large.”
This wasn’t a test? It felt like one, though that might have to do more with William’s upbringing and less with Iver.
“Both Castlehill and Somerdale are important strongholds in the south. Losing them would open Vale wide for the orcs. Over the past year, James has almost single-handedly held the south against an relentless onslaught. Nowhere have the orcs made less progress than in his territory. James is a bastion against the orcs. If his troops fall, the orcs won’t only control the south, they’ll press north.
James has been asking for my support over and over.
This isn’t his first missive. More like his fiftieth. ”
“So you think you must respond immediately?” Iver’s tone was free of accusation, no hint of criticism that William had left the letter unread, that he hadn’t helped his vassal in a time of dire need.
“Well… yes and no. Supporting James is important, but even if he has exhausted his resources, this is the beginning of winter. The orcs loathe the cold. They arrived in Vale just over a year ago and waited all winter to attack. They didn’t advance until spring.
It’s likely they’ll withdraw to the Great River where it’s warmer and resume their assault on Vale in spring.
It’ll lose them territory they’ve already conquered, but I think the cold will leave them no choice.
If they haven’t taken Castlehill by now, they’re not going to while the land is covered in snow. That buys us time.”
Iver nodded. “James knows this. But he’s still writing to you.”
“Because he’s nervous. The orcs didn’t march north last winter, but he isn’t counting on the same thing happening this year.
” William tapped the letter with his index finger.
“This keeps him at the forefront of my mind. He might not need troops right this minute with the cold repelling the orcs, but he’s still pushing for support.
Any knights he receives now can be trained in Castlehill over the winter.
Also, what he has today, he doesn’t have to ask for tomorrow. ”
Iver crossed his arms, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So you do understand military strategy. That’s what I thought.”
“That’s… what you thought?” Never in his life had anyone assumed William knew the first thing about politics, let alone warfare.
During his youth, William had had numerous private tutors, but none of them managed to mold him into the political mastermind his father wanted for a son.
On the contrary, he had found fault with William’s every thought, picking apart and ridiculing his ideas.
William had always felt inadequate dealing with matters of the state.
“You married me because it was in you and your kingdom’s best interest. You know how to use a situation to your advantage. Now, the question is, what are you going to do?”
“I need to help James—I asked for your knights so I could deploy them in the south.”