Chapter 5 #2
"Friends," he said, like the word was foreign.
"Is that so strange?"
"You've spent two months crying over Earl Sinclair and telling anyone who would listen that you were forced into a marriage with a monster."
Carol winced. "I—yes. I did. And I was wrong. You're not a monster."
"Everyone calls me The Butcher of the North."
"Well, yes, but—" Carol scrambled for something to say. "That's just because you're very effective at your job! Monster defense is important work. Someone has to do it. And you're obviously excellent at it. Over fifteen thousand kills is very impressive!"
Caspian stared at her.
"That came out wrong," Carol said quickly. "I mean—not that killing is impressive. Well, it is when you're killing monsters that would otherwise hurt people. Which you are. So it's good. You're doing good work. Protecting the kingdom. Very heroic."
She was rambling again. She couldn't stop herself.
"The training I saw this morning was remarkable, by the way.
Your technique with the sword—very fluid.
And your estate management is clearly excellent because everything runs so smoothly and the gardens are immaculate and—" Carol realized she was still talking and forced herself to stop. "I'm talking too much, aren't I?"
"Yes," Caspian said. But something in his expression had shifted slightly. The corner of his mouth was definitely twitching now. "You've never complimented my swordsmanship before. Or my estate management."
"Well, I should have. It's all very impressive." Carol paused, then decided to risk it. "Though I have to say, the fact that you're immune to poison is both terrifying and somewhat inconvenient. From a... theoretical standpoint."
She immediately regretted it.
But then—
Was that almost a smile?
It was gone so quickly Carol couldn't be sure, but for just a second, she thought she saw actual amusement in those green eyes.
"Inconvenient," he repeated, his tone dry. "Yes. I imagine it would be. Theoretically."
Carol felt her own lips quirking up despite her nervousness. "The wine did taste odd that night, didn't it?"
"Distinctly odd," Caspian agreed. "Though I've had worse."
There was a beat of silence.
And then—miracle of miracles—Caspian almost smiled. It was barely there, just the slightest softening of his expression, but it was real.
Carol felt something warm bloom in her chest.
The second course arrived, and the conversation shifted to safer topics. Carol asked about the northern border defenses. Caspian, after a moment's hesitation, actually answered with more than one-word responses. She asked about the estate, the staff, the logistics of managing a duchy.
He was still wary. Still watching her carefully for any sign of deception. But he was talking.
And when she accidentally made another joke about the weather being "less frozen than she'd expected from a place called the Frostmarch," he almost smiled again.
Progress.
Small, tiny, barely-there progress, but progress nonetheless.
◆◆◆
By the time dessert arrived—a beautifully presented berry tart—Carol's nervousness had transformed into something else.
She was still acutely aware of how attractive her husband was, especially when the candlelight caught his silver hair and those devastating green eyes.
But she was also discovering that underneath the cold exterior and terrifying reputation was someone interesting.
He was incredibly intelligent, with a tactical mind that could analyze complex military situations in seconds. He cared about his people and his duty deeply, even if he struggled to express it. And he had a dry, subtle sense of humor that caught her off guard.
"I heard you apologized to half the household staff today," Caspian said, cutting into his tart.
Word traveled fast. "Not half. Maybe a quarter."
"The kitchen is convinced you've been possessed by a benevolent spirit."
Carol laughed—actually laughed. "Is that the running theory?"
"That or you've been replaced by a changeling." His eyes flicked to hers. "The staff is taking bets."
"What's your theory?" Carol asked, genuinely curious.
Caspian was quiet for a moment, studying her again with that intense gaze that made her pulse quicken.
"I don't have one yet," he said finally. "But I'm watching."
"That's fair," Carol said. She met his eyes despite the blush she could feel creeping up her neck. "I'd be suspicious too."
"You're very different from how you were yesterday."
"Yesterday I was miserable. Today I'm trying not to be." Carol took a bite of her tart—it was delicious. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"You tried to poison me three weeks ago."
"And you just kept drinking," Carol pointed out. "Which is arguably more concerning. Who does that?"
"Someone who's immune to poison," Caspian said, but there was definitely amusement in his tone now.
They finished dessert in a comfortable silence that felt miraculous compared to the tense beginning of the meal.
When the plates were cleared, Caspian stood. Carol quickly rose as well.
"Thank you for dinner," she said. "I... enjoyed this."
He studied her one more time, those green eyes unreadable.
"We'll dine together again tomorrow night," he said. It wasn't a question.
Carol felt her heart skip. "I'd like that."
He nodded once, then turned to leave. Paused at the door.
"Lady Caroline."
It was the first time he'd said her name. Carol's breath caught.
"Yes?"
"If you're going to watch my training again," he said, not turning around, "you don't have to hide behind the hedge. The eastern viewing terrace has a better vantage point."
And then he was gone, leaving Carol standing in the dining room with her mouth hanging open.
"Did he just—" she started.
"HE MADE A JOKE!" Lumi squealed. "He actually made a joke! Do you know what this means?!"
"It means he's definitely watching you back," Missy said, sounding impressed despite herself. "Nicely done, Bestie."
Carol pressed her hands to her burning cheeks.
She'd done it. She'd survived dinner with The Butcher of the North. They'd had an actual conversation. He'd almost smiled. Multiple times.
And unless she was completely misreading things, he was maybe, possibly, potentially willing to give her a chance.
It wasn't friendship yet. It wasn't even close to trust.
But it was a start.