Chapter 10
Why Is She Looking At Dessert Like That?
Caspian had never been nervous about training before.
He'd fought monsters, led military campaigns, defended the northern border against overwhelming odds. He'd sparred against opponents twice his size and faced down creatures that would make grown men weep.
But standing in the training grounds at three o'clock, knowing his wife was about to watch from the eastern terrace, he felt something uncomfortably close to nervousness.
"You're adjusting your stance more than usual," Edwin observed, warming up nearby. "Very specific about positioning today."
"I'm ensuring proper form," Caspian said.
"You're making sure she has a good view," Edwin corrected, grinning. "Should I stand downwind so you're more visible?"
"Edwin."
"I'm just saying, if you're going to peacock, you should commit to it."
Before Caspian could respond, he caught movement on the eastern terrace.
Caroline had arrived.
She wore a soft pink dress that made her honey-blonde hair seem to glow in the afternoon sun. Her hair was arranged in an elegant updo with a few curls framing her face. She looked beautiful and composed and—
Was she carrying something?
Caspian squinted slightly.
She was indeed carrying something small and black-and-white. The Dreamweaver cub.
"She brought the murder kitten to tea," Edwin said, following his gaze. "Bold choice."
Caroline settled into one of the chairs on the terrace, placing the small creature carefully in her lap. Even from this distance, Caspian could see her speaking to it softly, stroking its fur.
She looked up, caught his eye, and her cheeks immediately flushed pink.
Then she smiled and gave a small wave.
Caspian found himself nodding back before he could think better of it.
"Oh, you're doomed," Edwin said cheerfully. "Completely doomed."
"Focus on training," Caspian ordered, drawing his practice sword.
"I am focused. Just also entertained."
They began their sparring routine, but Caspian was acutely aware of Caroline's presence on the terrace. He found himself choosing more dynamic moves, the kind that demonstrated skill and power without looking like he was trying too hard.
Which is exactly what I'm doing, Caspian thought with a flash of irritation at himself. I'm showing off.
He executed a complex combination—parry, riposte, spin, and disarm—that left Edwin's practice sword on the ground.
From the terrace, he heard a small sound. When he glanced over, Caroline was leaning forward in her chair, her amber eyes wide and focused entirely on him.
She was riveted.
"Oh, she liked that one," Edwin said quietly, picking up his sword. "Do the spinning move again."
"I'm not—"
"You absolutely are. And she's watching you like you're the most interesting thing she's ever seen."
Edwin wasn't wrong. Caroline's attention was completely fixed on the training ground, her tea apparently forgotten. When Caspian moved through a series of quick strikes and defensive positions, he could see her tracking every movement.
He might have made the moves slightly more elaborate than strictly necessary.
And when he transitioned into a demonstration of his dual-wielding technique—both practice swords moving in perfect synchronization—Caroline actually pressed her hand to her chest.
Even from this distance, he could see the blush spreading across her face.
She's watching me, Caspian realized. Really watching me. The way she watched from behind the hedge yesterday. The way she looks at me during dinner.
The way someone might look at something they found... attractive?
No. That couldn't be right. She was in love with Percival Sinclair. This had to be part of whatever game she was playing.
But she looked genuinely flustered. Her fan was moving rapidly, and she kept shifting in her seat.
"Your Grace," Edwin said, grinning broadly now. "I do believe your wife thinks you're impressive."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"She's blushing from here to the capital. And she hasn't touched her tea in ten minutes because she can't look away from you."
Caspian finished the demonstration with one final flourish—perhaps more dramatic than necessary—and sheathed both practice swords.
"I'm going to join her for tea now," he announced.
"Excellent. Try not to be too charming. We wouldn't want her to faint."
"Edwin—"
"Enjoy your tea, Your Grace!"
Caspian chose to ignore him and headed for the terrace stairs.
◆◆◆
As he approached, Caroline stood quickly—perhaps too quickly—and the small creature in her lap made a startled meowing sound.
"Your Grace," she said, her voice slightly breathless. Her cheeks were still pink.
"Lady Caroline," Caspian replied, reaching the top of the stairs.
Up close, the Dreamweaver cub was even smaller than the reports had suggested. It couldn't weigh more than fifteen pounds, with soft black-and-white fur and glowing amber eyes that watched him warily. Its twin tails were wrapped protectively around Caroline's wrist.
"I hope you don't mind," Caroline said quickly. "I brought Mochi. I wanted to introduce you properly."
She adjusted her hold on the creature, bringing it closer to Caspian. The cub's ears flattened slightly.
"There's no need to be afraid of my husband," Caroline murmured to the creature, stroking its head gently.
My husband.
Caspian felt something shift in his chest. She'd called him 'my husband,' not 'His Grace' or 'the Duke.' A possessive. An acknowledgment of their connection.
It was such a small thing, but it caught him completely off guard.
"He won't hurt you," Caroline continued, speaking to the cub. "He's actually very kind. Even if he doesn't smile much."
Caspian didn't know what to say to that.
The cub—Mochi—sniffed the air cautiously, then made a small meowing sound that was almost questioning.
"May I?" Caspian asked, extending his hand slowly.
Caroline's eyes widened slightly with surprise, but she nodded. "Of course."
He let the cub sniff his hand. After a moment, the small creature bumped its head against his fingers, and Caspian found himself automatically scratching behind its ears.
Mochi purred.
"He likes you," Caroline said, sounding delighted. "I was worried he'd be too nervous, but you're very gentle with him."
"It's just a cub," Caspian said. "Dreamweavers aren't inherently aggressive at this age."
"But they will be eventually," Caroline said, meeting his eyes. "I know they grow into apex predators. The staff made that very clear."
"And you bonded with it anyway."
"He was alone," Caroline said simply. "Orphaned. And he looked at me with these big eyes and—" She stopped herself, looking slightly embarrassed. "I couldn't help myself. I like animals. Even dangerous ones, apparently."
Caspian studied her. The genuine affection in her voice when she spoke to the creature. The gentle way she held it. The protective set of her shoulders.
"Please, sit," he said, gesturing to the chairs.
They settled into their seats, and Caspian couldn't help but notice the spread of desserts on the table. More variety than he'd seen in months—delicate pastries, fruit tarts, chocolate confections, small cakes with intricate icing.
"I may have requested a few extra desserts," Caroline admitted, following his gaze. "I have... a bit of a sweet tooth."
"I can see that," Caspian said.
A servant poured tea for both of them, and Caroline immediately reached for one of the small cakes—something with layers of cream and berries.
She took a bite, and her eyes closed.
A soft sound of pleasure escaped her throat.
And Caspian's brain short-circuited.
Because that expression—that exact expression—eyes closed, lips parted slightly, that small sound of satisfaction—
He knew that expression.
He'd seen it three months ago. In the garden at that ball. When the seduction spell had taken hold and—
The memory flashed unbidden: Caroline beneath him in the moonlit garden, her eyes fluttering closed, that same soft sound as he touched her, as she found her release, as—
Caspian picked up his teacup so quickly that tea sloshed slightly.
Do not think about that. Do not think about the garden. Do not think about that expression meaning anything other than she likes cake.
But she was making that sound again as she took another bite, savoring it with the same blissful expression, and Caspian needed a distraction immediately.
"What does it mean?" he asked abruptly.
Caroline's eyes opened, slightly dazed. "I'm sorry?"
"Mochi," Caspian said, latching onto the first topic that came to mind. "What does the name mean?"
"Oh!" Caroline set down her cake, reaching over to scratch the cub's ears.
"It's actually from an exotic dessert I had once in the capital.
It's this sweet rice confection—sticky on the outside, but filled with ice cream on the inside.
They come in different flavors. It was absolutely delicious and reminded me of something soft and sweet, so...
" She smiled at the creature. "It seemed to fit. "
"You named an apex predator after a dessert."
"A very good dessert," Caroline corrected. "And he's soft and sweet now. We'll deal with the apex predator part when we get there."
Despite himself, Caspian felt his lips twitch. "That's remarkably short-sighted planning."
"I prefer to call it 'living in the moment,'" Caroline said. Then, hesitantly, "Would you like to try some? The desserts, I mean. There's quite a variety."
She was offering to share with him. Another small gesture, but intimate in its casualness.
"Thank you," Caspian said, selecting one of the smaller pastries.
He took a bite and immediately understood why he typically avoided sweets. It was very sweet. Almost overwhelmingly so.
"Too much?" Caroline asked, watching his expression.
"It's well-made," Caspian said diplomatically. "But perhaps sweeter than my preference."
"More for me then," Caroline said, smiling. She picked up another small cake and took a bite, her eyes closing again in that same blissful expression.
Caspian took a long drink of tea and tried very hard to think about border patrol schedules.