CHAPTER ELEVEN
B EING MARRIED HADN ’ T actually changed his way of life all that much, decided Tomas several months later. He’d known from the beginning not to expect Claudia to be a stay-at-home wife, eagerly awaiting his return after a day of blissful homemaking, but the time she spent in service to the Crown and the various charities she’d adopted, and her continued service to Ildris and his northerners, meant she didn’t actually spend a lot of time in Aergoveny.
Likewise, he was busier than ever as he travelled between the manor and the winter fortress and carved out the time to join his princess wife at the various state banquets and luncheons Casimir insisted they attended.
Far from his reputation being sullied, it had been thoroughly gilded once his high-country wedding to the Crown Princess had become common knowledge. The people of Byzenmaach approved of Claudia’s choice of partner. Photos of him and his eagles had helped. He was of Byzenmaach and his pedigree went back generations. He brooded photogenically.
He was the new Lord of Aergoveny, and Aergoveny had claimed him.
As Casimir had warned, he now had his own political capital to spend.
It had only taken one excruciatingly boring state dinner and a round of idle conversation between him and some of the courtiers who’d been stirring up rumours about Claudia’s legitimacy and planting stories about her unfortunate Stockholm Syndrome. They’d even begun wondering aloud, and in his presence, when Claudia might give birth. Apparently, they’d thought themselves beyond reproach or justified in their smear campaigns. Perhaps they’d thought him toothless.
How deluded was that?
He’d begun by reminiscing about a particular hunting party some of them had attended at the winter fortress many years ago under the rule of the late Leonidas. Pity about those heinous rumours of sexual assault on the son of the Duke of Laire, wasn’t it? Such a tragedy, the boy’s subsequent suicide. Such a shame no one in attendance had ever seemed to have the stomach to get to the bottom of it.
Wasn’t it?
So many stories of those dark times towards the end of King Leonidas’s life.
Weren’t there?
Claudia had called it extortion, or was it intimidation? One of those big words suggesting borderline criminal behaviour.
Tomas called it small talk.
They shared a bed once or twice a week—enthusiastically, he had no complaints—but as their baby grew, his touches became more tentative. There was a baby in there! What was a man to do but be very, very careful in his approach?
He spent hours of every day setting up the new falconry the way he wanted it, and Claudia spent almost every waking moment deep within the political bowels of her brother’s court, buying into the crisis of the day. And there was always one of those.
He was everywhere and nowhere, always playing a part these days. Only in the sanctuary of Lor’s kitchen did he allow himself to drop the mask and be himself again. Claudia’s wolfhounds were at his feet more often than not, and he always had at least one falcon with him. Sometimes Ana and Sophia would likewise find refuge from the demands of the Crown while Claudia and Cas debated policy and execution late into the night.
He might have even been content with his marriage of—what had they called it?—two spirited individuals, if he didn’t already carry with him the memory of what a loving marriage could be.
His parents had shown him the sweetness of silences that did not clamour to be filled.
The intimacy of private glances and perfect understanding. The cups of tea in the morning, made with care by a loving hand and served in a favourite mug. Foundation memories. He wanted them.
His morning coffee whenever he stayed in Claudia’s suite at the palace came on a silver tray at exactly seven a.m., lukewarm, too weak and utterly impersonal. Just this morning he’d barked at a maid who’d entered their bedroom just as he’d exited the shower. He hadn’t expected her to be there.
He hadn’t liked the way her sly sideways gaze had flicked at him.
‘Did you really need to send her away so curtly?’ Claudia had chided.
‘Did she really need to freshen the linen at five minutes past six in the morning?’ he’d snapped back.
He hated losing control of his responses and being found lacking.
And for all their fine talk about making a home for themselves and loving memories to go with it, neither he nor Claudia were making that happen.
Lor took that moment to place a hot mug of beef broth on the table in front of him and although he said his thanks, he promptly got lost in the thought that Claudia wouldn’t even know it was his mug, let alone that he’d made it at school one year and given it to his mother as a birthday gift. The last time Claudia had set a cup of anything down beside him... Nope, she never had.
Lor, Ana and young Sophia all knew more about him than his wife did.
And off he went, being morose again.
This right here was why letting emotions rule your life was a bad thing.
And then Sophia clambered up on the stool next to him, bringing her special soup in her special cup with her, and regarded him solemnly. ‘Did one of your falcons die?’
‘No.’ He certainly hoped not. Sophia’s fixation with death was well known, mainly because she’d been told from a young age that both her father and aunt were dead when they weren’t.
‘Did you make a mistake and get into trouble?’
‘Maybe.’ He huffed a laugh. ‘Why?’
‘You’re sad.’
‘Nah.’ He held up his forefinger and thumb, set approximately an inch apart. ‘Maybe this sad. I was thinking about my mother, who died a long time ago. I made this mug for her when I was about as old as you are now. Have you done mug making yet?’
She shook her head with vigour. That would be a no, then. ‘But I want to.’
‘And you will,’ said Ana. ‘Say goodnight, Sophia. It’s bedtime for you and me.’
Everyone in the kitchen began the goodnight chorus and by the time the heavy kitchen door swung shut, Tomas was halfway through his soup and determined not to look sad again, even if he was.
‘Are you happy about becoming a father soon?’ asked Lor with far more of a read on him than he was comfortable with.
‘Sophia’s a nice kid. I like kids.’ Which didn’t exactly answer the question. ‘Raising a kid who’s a member of the royal family to have similar values to the ones I grew up with won’t be easy, though.’ First time he’d voiced that thought. ‘How do you teach someone to value a misshapen mug when they have access to the best of everything? Does Claudia possess anything belonging to her mother, other than royal jewels? I don’t think so.’
‘Maybe not, but in my experience it pays to think of Claudia more as an orphan raised by a foster family. She’s not going to let on that a particular possession of hers is important, even if it is. She may say some of the falcons are hers but there’s no loyalty from them in return—she knows that just as well as you do. She has a horse she treasures, but it’s cared for and ridden by Gabriel and his grooms these days because of her pregnancy. She does have two very loyal wolfhounds.’
They both looked down. Those wolfhounds were currently sitting at Tomas’s feet.
He hadn’t meant to take them on, but Claudia’s palace meetings ran for days sometimes, whereas with him at least the dogs got a run.
Lor wiped her hands on her apron. ‘Has she talked about their defection to you?’
‘I didn’t realise it was a competition.’ But what if Claudia thought of it as such? ‘I thought I was helping.’
‘You are very caring, very competent and very helpful, yes. You bring rules and safety with you—I predict that your children will idolise you. But with that happy head start into parenting comes a warning. Don’t cut your wife out of the child-raising if she doesn’t take to it as naturally as you do. That woman has been surplus to requirements all her life. Include her. Make her feel essential to your wellbeing and happiness. Talk to her about what you want from this new world the two of you are creating. There is her northern world, to which she is beholden for keeping her alive. There is her brother’s world, into which she brings challenge and reform—a world where she’s more often cast as a villain so that Casimir can be seen as the good King. And then there’s your world, and to my old eyes she’s doing her damnedest to make you happy. It doesn’t help that you disappear for days on end, leaving her to get on with paying her dues.’
‘She wants me to go,’ he protested. ‘She encourages me to get on with paying mine.’
‘And in a secure relationship, individually working hard and coming together when the work is done would be enough. Is your relationship secure, my stalwart heart? Or is there still so much to learn about each other and discuss? Can’t do that when you spend most of your time apart.’
Who knew that having Lor point out the obvious could make him feel so miserably unfit for the role of husband?
‘She comes in here some nights when you’re away and without fail she reaches for your mug, and she treats it with the same care you do, even though she doesn’t know its history. She just knows it’s yours.’ Lor eyed him shrewdly. ‘It’s the little things that reveal so much, isn’t it. Who you really are. What you value most. Even if you don’t know how to keep hold of it.’
‘Keep talking.’ Might as well admit he needed some tough love. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but my marriage is withering.’
‘You need my wise words.’
Yes, he did. ‘I need to fix it.’
‘Claudia doesn’t want to let anyone down and they use her and you know this. She’ll work herself to the bone in service to others, it’s happening in front of your eyes. She finds it very difficult to even state her wants and needs, let alone follow through. So get in there and put your foot down, Tomas, and make it easier for her to follow through.’
He was listening.
Two days later, Tomas braved the underground swimming pools of the winter fortress in search of his princess wife. He didn’t like the watery caverns carved into the side of the mountain, no matter how many sconces lit his way. He didn’t see luxury in the fluffy towels and scented oils placed strategically. He found the place eerie, truth be told. Give him sky above his head, not solid rock all around him. Maybe he just wasn’t a cave person.
But Silas said Claudia had taken to bathing here of an afternoon, so he swallowed his dislike and journeyed forth, into the gloom.
Claudia sat by herself beneath the waterfall, a wrap tied around her rapidly changing body, her head slightly forward to let the water from the underground riverway pound down on her shoulders and neck.
By the time he’d removed his clothes she’d seen him and had made her way to the shallow end of the pool where the steps were, her amber eyes alight with curiosity and...dare he imagine pleasure?
‘I thought you were away for two more days,’ she said by way of greeting.
‘I heard from Lor that your meeting was cancelled, so I asked Balo’s grandfather to step in and supervise the apprentices through to the beginning of next week. Might work, might not. Delegation is not my strong point, but I’m trying to build teams that won’t fall apart in my absence.’
‘He must be good for you to even consider bringing him on.’
‘He reminds me of my grandfather.’ Tomas settled on the step beside her, half in the water, half out. ‘He handles the goldens in ways I’ve never seen before, but it works. I can learn from him. That region is a treasure trove. Have I thanked you for choosing it for me lately?’
‘Not lately.’
He leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss that started gently and then he very deliberately set about adding layer after layer of gossamer passion and promise.
‘Thank you,’ he whispered when his body had stirred sufficiently to make it abundantly obvious that he was pleased to see her. ‘I can’t wait to get you there more often. Did I tell you that Caitlin’s father has taken on a new manager? I interviewed her for an apprenticeship yesterday.’
‘Really?’ Delight looked good on her.
‘I offered her the position on the spot. It’s people, isn’t it. Key people in key positions who can change the world. She’s one of them. You’re one of them too.’
She smiled and leaned against him and it was enough to make him happy.
‘I like it when you touch me or lean against me or trail your hand across my shoulders when you walk by,’ he rumbled, mindful of Lor’s advice that he should be more forthcoming. He was getting used to having to use his words more in all sorts of situations, rather than expect others to pick up on his non-verbal cues.
‘You like it when I scratch the feathers at the back of your neck too.’
He huffed a laugh. So he did. ‘Blame it on my early childhood conditioning. My father was a man of gestures rather than words. When I was younger, he’d carry me on his shoulders. When I got older I’d work my skinny little kid guts out to earn a pat on the back. My mother was big on putting my favourite food in front of me in my favourite bowl. Then she’d run her hand through my hair and mutter about there being more twigs in it than a bird’s nest.’
‘So touch is an expression of love for you. Good to know.’
‘And you work yourself to the bone for the people you love. It’s what you do. Baked into your psyche. It’s what I want to talk to you about.’
She eyed him warily.
‘You’re doing too much for others and too little for us.’ He came right out and said it.
She was silent a long time. Long enough for him to immerse himself in the water completely and rise, shaking the droplets from his hair and pushing the hair from his face. Hardly Aquaman, but she always seemed pleased enough with his body and that in turn pleased him.
‘They need me.’
‘They can’t always have you. I and our baby are going to need you more.’
She dropped her gaze and skimmed her hands through the water in lazy figure eights, making ripples but not splashes. A turbulence that lapped at his skin rather than attacked it.
‘One of my ways of showing love as a kid was to try and be as invisible and unobtrusive as possible,’ she offered finally. ‘If I could just be still enough and silent enough, they could pretend I wasn’t there, and Cas wouldn’t have to try and protect me and end up taking a beating. Not breathing too loud was my version of love.’
And that was just heartbreaking, but he should have guessed. He’d seen first-hand what her childhood had been like, never mind that she’d never been like that with him as a kid.
‘Was it like that for you in the north as well?’ He moved closer, putting his hands to her belly, and measuring growth in finger spans.
‘To start with, yes. I breathed very quietly and I was always wondering where I would go or what I would do if they simply packed up and left me behind. Then I overheard one of the elders saying I’d be of more use once my father was dead and Cas became King and I clung to the thought that somehow I could be of use. I tried to learn as much as I could. I was forever putting myself forward, being the first to volunteer for anything and everything so I could be of use .’
‘They manipulated you. I’ll never think differently. But more to the point, don’t you think you’ve repaid that debt in full?’
‘I—don’t know.’
‘Ask them what more they want from you. Tell them your focus is shifting to your baby and allocate what you do for them to other people for the next six months. When they prove competent—and they will—leave them in those positions.’
He sneaked a glance and could see she was thinking it over as she chewed delicately on her bottom lip. Her matter-of-fact recounting of that time in her life horrified him. It sat at odds with how she usually spoke well of her time in the north. Maybe both versions could be true. Maybe all that mattered was that he understood her duality and listened to her concerns.
‘It makes sense that you would swing from being barely visible to being all up in the thick of things, determined to be useful.’ He pressed his lips to her belly. ‘It makes sense that you’re struggling to find a middle ground to reside in, but I’m here to help you find that balance if you’ll let me. You are half a fingernail wider across the belly,’ he declared.
‘You think I’m failing you and our baby.’
‘No,’ he countered firmly. ‘ No . But I want us to remember what we talked about on the night of our wedding and that we chose to make our relationship, our baby and our home, our first priority. And we haven’t been, so let’s do a reset. Both of us. Okay? I’ve been just as guilty as you of letting other things get in the way.’
He gathered her close and she clung to him. He hugged her tight and bobbed them up and down, dunking them at one point to wash away her tears. He cast about for something to show how deeply he wanted to make her feel wanted and secure.
‘Balo’s nonna ’s a potter, so I made you a mug when I went to see them about his grandfather stepping into that supervisory role.’
‘You went to offer a man a job and ended up making a teacup?’ Her smile was watery, but she wasn’t crying that he could tell.
‘Yes. It’s wobbly but I think I’ve improved since I made that one for my mother—you’d recognise that one. It’s the one in Lor’s kitchen that I always use. I couldn’t decide on a colour for your glaze—it’s a toss-up between the blue of the sky or amber like your eyes. I have to go back to paint it once it’s dry.’
‘Blue. Blue for the sky.’
‘You could come too and see what you think of the blue tableware for our day-to-day use at the manor. I liked it.’
She pulled away as far as he would let her—which wasn’t far. ‘Tomas Sokolov, are you nesting ?’
‘Is that what you call it?’
‘What do you call it?’ she demanded.
‘I’d rather not think about my newfound fascination for pottery at all, but I do want you to come to Aergoveny with me tomorrow and stay the night if you have the time. The wolfhounds have missed you.’
‘That’s a lie. They miss their nomadic way of life. At least with you they get to ride out every now and then.’
‘It’s not a lie—I stand by what I said. They miss your company. So do I.’ Words, words, using all the words until he broke through to her. She wasn’t the only one who could learn new tricks. ‘Please, I need you to take some time for yourself. We could ride out and explore. What did the doctor say about you riding?’
‘Not to,’ she replied dryly. ‘I’m allowed to swim, so here I am, lolling about in the shallows because Cas has forbidden me to jump in the river opening, even though he still does.’
Tomas had been in that fast-flowing coil of darkness only once. Between the swiftly moving undertow and the grate at the end that could pin a person like a fly on a swat, he’d been fearful for his life. ‘To be fair, it’s a death trap.’
‘Exactly. So Cas is now banned from swimming there too. He can’t die until he and Ana have offspring that are old enough to sit on the throne without me having to be Regent. And you’re not to take any notice of the rumour going around that I tried to poison my brother yesterday. That is not in my wheelhouse.’
‘So...ah...what did happen to the King yesterday?’ He dreaded the thought that Claudia would ever have to take her brother’s place, but it could happen. She was next in line. Sophia hadn’t been born in wedlock, so would never rule Byzenmaach. Royal succession rules were archaic and absolute.
‘He got a stomach bug from Sophia, who got it from school. But don’t let that get in the way of a good royal poisoning plot. Some courtiers work tirelessly to plant a wedge between me and Cas.’
‘Who? I want names.’
‘You can’t have names if all you’re going to do is threaten to reveal all their dark secrets if they oppose me.’
‘Says who?’
‘Says me.’
‘Spoilsport. Claudia, listen to me. No one is ever going to come between you and your brother. The bond you forged in childhood grows stronger by the day. He needs and wants you in his life because he loves you. That you choose to support him so thoroughly is a blessing in his life, but you could step back tomorrow and he would still love you just the same. Talk to him about taking more time for yourself. Blame the baby, or me, but talk to him about placing your political focus where he needs it most and delegate the rest. You don’t have a royal secretary—why not? Ask Rudolpho to train one and then delegate . You’ll get more done in less time. I’m sharing my newfound wisdom with you freely so that you too may learn what I’m learning.’
‘You’re a saint.’
‘Hardly. I just want more of you to myself.’
‘Why didn’t you just say you were feeling neglected?’
‘Wouldn’t have learned nearly as much about you if I’d come straight out and said it, now, would I?’
‘You’re sneaky .’ She sounded delighted with that discovery.
‘No, I’m not. I’m honest to a fault. And stalwart.’
‘And naked.’
He hadn’t forgotten. ‘Have I mentioned how very pleased I am to see you?’
‘Well, you have now.’ She locked her legs firmly around his waist and began to rub herself against him. ‘But I know how much you prefer nonverbal communication. Maybe you could show me.’
Challenge accepted.