Chapter 58
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
T he pressure of responsibilities outside this room were mounting with each passing hour, and yet, I couldn’t find it in me to leave. Not when Rowan’s perfect skin was against mine, her body prone and ready, her wicked mouth taunting me as I challenged the lengths of our stamina again and again.
One day soon, I would be forced to exist for my clan again. I would once again be my father’s executioner and put on the show of power he expected of someone who had finally claimed and tamed the feral princess of Lochlann.
But until that day, I had every intention of doing all of my claiming within the walls of our bedroom.
When we came up for air, or whenever Rowan fell asleep, I checked in with my men for news of Iiro’s movements. I sent letters thanking the clans for attending my wedding, asking subtle questions that allowed for even subtler answers about their feelings on the state of our kingdom.
And then I lost myself in my wife once again.
For six storms-blessed days, my father did not demand a single thing of me. And whether it was due to the fact that his mind was slipping deeper into the madness that seemed to take hold a little more each day, or the fact that he remembered I was on my honeymoon, I didn’t care.
I savored the moments alone with her until that was no longer an option.
Over breakfast in our bed, I was forced to break the news to her that a single week was all we could steal for ourselves.
“Starting this afternoon, we will need to be seen by the court,” I said, watching her face fall in response. “I couldn’t hold off meeting with the lords any longer than that, Lemmikki. And then there is the matter of the court needing to see you act as Clan Wife. The sooner they get to know you in this position, the better.”
I wasn’t fooled into thinking this would be an easy transition for anyone. Not the court, and certainly not my lemmikki. But sooner or later, the gauntlet had to be thrown, and now was just as good a time as any.
Rowan sighed, irritably picking up another piece of maple bacon from our tray before leaning back against the headboard of the bed.
“Lemmikki.” I drew out the word, but she ignored me.
Every part of her practically hummed as she consumed each bite. Her lashes fluttered as her tongue darted out to lick the syrup first from her lips, then slowly from each of her fingers.
Every ounce of my resolve to leave this bed waned while I watched her, naked in my bed, eyes closed as she groaned, appearing to derive as much pleasure from that last bite of bacon as she had from me.
A low laugh escaped me as I crawled over to press my lips against hers, darting my tongue out to taste her the same way she had done with her breakfast.
She hummed in satisfaction until I suggested that her happy food face was the same one she made whenever I gave her a release.
Her cheeks heated to the same shade of crimson as her hair as she threw a pillow at my face with a wide-eyed expression.
“What can I say? Food is delicious, you’re delicious, the way you make me feel is del—” Her words were cut off with a giggle as I pulled her closer to my side of the bed.
“And I appreciate delicious things,” she continued.
A growl rumbled through me in response, my fingertips pressing into the curve of her hips. More than anything, I wanted to take back everything I had said before and lock us in this room for the rest of our lives.
But instead, I forced myself to have a modicum of the self-control I had prided myself on possessing only seven days ago, choosing to partake of more coffee instead of more of my wife.
“Is there somewhere I can spar this morning?” Rowan asked a moment later, shifting enough so her body faced mine, the delicate strands of her hair brushing against my arm.
I swallowed my drink, setting my mug back onto the breakfast tray. I had accounted for this, for the life she would be forced to have here in Bear, as well as the life she wanted.
Of course, she would want to continue sparring. I could have arranged for a private ring, could have trained her myself, but that would be counterproductive to my long-term plans where she was concerned.
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” I said evenly.
Once we were finished with breakfast, we dressed and readied for the day, much to our mutual disappointment. Rowan was a vision in her new black gown, her curls pulled back from her face and secured with diamond-studded hairpins.
The stiff set of her shoulders coupled with her elegant features was enough to remind anyone who saw her that she was the daughter of a king and the future Clan Wife of Bear.
Even without the tiara, no one would question her role in either kingdom.
“Are we going to a private sparring ring?” she asked excitedly as we made our way through the courtyard.
Though the gray stones had been scrubbed several times over, some of them were darker than others. When I blinked, I could see the ruby ocean that covered the courtyard. The pile of corpses as Kirill and Pavel gathered the bodies to burn. Another blink and it was Rowan’s blood on the ground, her body that was flayed and chained to the whipping post.
Which only solidified my reasons for every plan I had set in motion to remind my people, my soldiers, and my court that she was a clan wife and would be protected at all costs.
“No,” I said, and she stiffened in response.
“Surely, the men will resent it if you make them leave.” Her words were tinged with concern, but she was still following me.
“They probably would,” I supplied with a small grin.
They would likely resent what we were about to do as well, but at least in this scenario, they would be able to see her skill with a blade. And if they had a problem with my wife using my sparring room, they could take that up with me directly.
I pushed open the doors, allowing Rowan entry before I followed, letting the doors slam shut behind us. One by one, the soldiers stopped what they were doing, their focus shifting to the woman at my side.
Rowan shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of their gazes. Her footsteps were harried as she kept in step with mine as I marched to the center of the room.
When Yuriy was the first to approach, it made things that much simpler. I glanced from my cousin back to my wife, before dipping my chin once.
“Perfect,” I said matter-of-factly. “You can start with Yuriy.”
Rowan’s brow furrowed in confusion while Yuriy let out a slow, awkward breath, his gaze sliding around the room at the rest of the men who were clearly at a loss for words.
“I’m not sparring with you?” my wife asked, her voice pitched low enough so that only I could hear.
“I’m sure there will be time enough for that later, Lemmikki,” I replied with a wink, infusing my tone with all the nonchalance I didn’t quite feel.
They wouldn’t see her as one of their own if she was only ever up against me. Besides which, she could best several of the men in this room, but I was not one of them. They would respect her faster if they witnessed her skillset from the outset.
Getting my soldiers to accept this side of my bride was only the first step of many, and frankly, likely to be the least difficult. Which wasn’t saying much.
“Yes, Lord Evander,” my cousin replied to my order before giving Rowan a dip of his chin. “My Lady.”
“Perfect. I’ll be back to check on you soon,” I said flatly, leaving them on display in the center of the room while I left to survey the rest of the men.
Much to their credit, the two only shifted awkwardly for a handful of seconds before beginning their warm-up stretches. The rest of the room watched, only falling back into their routines when I passed close enough for them to snap out of their stupor.
I didn’t hold back as I walked among my men, issuing commands or commentary on stance or techniques like it was any other day. Once I made two laps around the room, I grabbed two sparring swords before returning to the center of the room.
“Begin,” I demanded when my cousin hesitated.
They moved into position, my lemmikki wielding her sword with all the confidence of someone who wasn’t going into actual battle, while Yuriy did the same.
I took a breath, ready to issue another command when Rowan launched forward. She let out a small growl as she thrust her sword toward his abdomen.
A muscle feathered in my cousin’s jaw as he blocked her sword and backed away, refusing to attack in return.
After our time in Lochlann, he knew as well as I did how much sparring meant to her, as well as the fact that she could hold her own against him. So his hesitation wasn’t because of sparring with a woman, or my wife, but because of the soldiers watching.
Rowan attempted a cross-strike, and once again, he parried and stepped away.
“Stop holding back, Yuriy,” I said flatly.
He shook his head once before half-heartedly moving into a forward strike, his movements slow enough to be offensive. Rowan easily blocked his sword, taking another step back as my cousin looked at me.
I allowed him to see the order through the full force of my gaze. I would not command him again, and just because he was my family did not mean I would tolerate disobedience. Especially not today. Not here. Not now. Not with this.
He blinked once, giving me a dip of his chin before finally going on the offensive.
I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until the sound of their clashing swords and the small, strained sounds of their fighting eased something in my chest.
The longer they fought, the more the rest of the room grew quiet. My men slowly crept closer, paying rapt attention to the woman who was keeping up with one of their fellow soldiers.
I pretended to ignore them while calling out the same critiques to my wife that I had given them a few minutes before.
When they moved, so did I, calling out each of my thoughts as I talked them through the fight.
“Lemmikki, remember to lift your elbow,” I said, watching as her blows became more impactful with just the one adjustment.
“Yuriy, on your guard. She’s taking advantage of your weakness with your left.”
My cousin quickly modified his movements to gain the upper hand.
“Your footwork is sloppy, Lemmikki,” I said in a voice just loud enough for them to hear.
Her green eyes narrowed in irritation, but she shifted her bearing accordingly.
And finally, when they were both beginning to flag, I goaded my wife into making the finishing blow.
“Are you really going to let a woman beat you, Cousin?”
Rowan growled, her anger and stubbornness giving her the determination to end the fight. In several quick moves, she had my cousin tripping over his own feet before landing flat on his back with her blade to his throat.
Her chest rose and fell, a small grin tugging the corners of her mouth as she looked back at me.
Good girl, Lemmikki.
I didn’t praise her, though, not outwardly. There would be time for that later. Instead, I turned to the rest of the room while she helped Yuriy to his feet.
“Now, who can tell me what they did wrong?”
It took them less than a minute to respond, treating her, for the first time, like she was one of them by offering up the same critiques they would have given each other.
We still had a long way to go before I could expect this sort of mutual respect to stick. But for now, at least, it was a start.