Chapter 10 #2
"Your training was incredible, by the way," Caroline said suddenly, opening her eyes. "The way you moved with both swords—I've never seen anything like it. You're very skilled."
Was she... complimenting him? Again?
"Thank you," Caspian said carefully. "You mentioned watching yesterday as well."
Her cheeks flushed pink. "Yes, well. I was taking a walk and happened to pass by and—you're very impressive. To watch. I mean, your technique is impressive. Very... athletic."
She was rambling. And blushing furiously now.
Caspian found it oddly endearing.
"You're welcome to watch anytime," he heard himself say. "The eastern terrace does provide an excellent vantage point."
"I noticed," Caroline said, her blush deepening. "Thank you for the recommendation. It was very... helpful."
They sat in silence for a moment, both drinking tea. Caroline fed Mochi a small piece of cream pastry, which the cub devoured enthusiastically.
"He's going to grow into a very spoiled apex predator," Caspian observed.
"The best kind," Caroline said. Then, more seriously, "I know having a Dreamweaver on the estate might be concerning. If you'd prefer I find somewhere else for him—"
"No," Caspian interrupted.
Caroline looked up, surprised.
Caspian wasn't entirely sure why he'd said no so quickly. Tactically, it would make sense to relocate the creature before it became dangerous. But looking at Caroline holding the small cub, at the protective way she cradled it, at the genuine affection in her eyes...
"You've bonded with it," he said finally. "Familiar bonds are not easily broken. And from what I understand, Dreamweavers are fiercely loyal to their bonded companions."
"They are," Caroline confirmed.
"Then it would be cruel to separate you. The creature stays." He paused. "With conditions."
"Of course. Anything."
"It needs proper training as it grows. No aggressive behavior toward staff. And when it reaches maturity, it will need appropriate accommodations—something larger than your chambers."
"That's very reasonable," Caroline said, nodding quickly.
"And you're responsible for its care and feeding."
"I understand."
She was looking at him with those wide amber eyes, and Caspian noticed—not for the first time—how they caught the afternoon light.
Then she smiled. Genuinely smiled, bright and delighted and grateful.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Really. Thank you for understanding. I know it probably seems silly to get so attached to a creature that will eventually be dangerous, but—"
"It's not silly," Caspian said. "Loyalty and compassion are valuable traits. Even when applied to future apex predators."
Caroline's smile widened, and Caspian felt that odd shifting sensation in his chest again.
This woman had tried to poison him three weeks ago.
And now she was sitting across from him, feeding cream pastries to a Dreamweaver cub, blushing when she talked about watching him train, calling him 'my husband' with a possessive warmth that made something in him want to believe it was real.
None of it made sense.
But watching her carefully feed another piece of pastry to Mochi, her expression so open and genuine, Caspian found himself thinking that perhaps sense was overrated.
"Would you like more tea?" Caroline asked, already reaching for the pot.
"Please."
As she poured, her sleeve slipped back slightly, and Caspian noticed she wasn't wearing any of the elaborate jewelry he knew she owned. Just a simple bracelet. Understated. Practical.
Different from before, when she'd worn every expensive piece she could find as if trying to prove something.
"I should probably tell you," Caroline said, setting down the teapot. "I apologized to several of the household staff. For my previous behavior."
"I heard."
"You did?"
"The staff reports are very thorough," Caspian said dryly. "Apparently there's a running theory that you've been possessed by a benevolent spirit."
Caroline laughed—actually laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Oh no, really? A benevolent spirit?"
"Leading the votes at 60%. Changeling replacement is second at 25%."
"What's your theory?" Caroline asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Caspian considered the question. What was his theory?
That she was plotting something elaborate? Possibly, though her behavior seemed too consistent, too genuine.
That she'd finally accepted her situation and was trying to make the best of it? More likely, though it didn't explain the sudden completeness of the change.
That she was exactly what she appeared to be—a woman trying to build a new life, make amends, and adopt every dangerous creature she encountered?
"I'm still observing," Caspian said finally. "Gathering data."
"Very tactical," Caroline said, still smiling. "Should I be concerned that my husband is conducting surveillance on me?"
My husband. There it was again. That casual possessive that made his chest do strange things.
"Only if you're plotting something nefarious," Caspian replied.
"My only plot currently involves determining which dessert to try next," Caroline said, eyeing the table. "I'm thinking the chocolate one. Though the fruit tart also looks tempting."
"A difficult strategic decision," Caspian said, and was rewarded with another smile.
Mochi, apparently satisfied with his pastry intake, curled up in Caroline's lap and began purring loudly.
"He's content," Caroline observed, stroking the cub's fur gently. "This is nice. Just... sitting here. Having tea. Normal."
"Is this not what you expected from marriage?" Caspian asked before he could stop himself.
Caroline was quiet for a moment, her hand stilling on Mochi's head.
"I don't know what I expected," she said softly. "But this—" She looked up at him. "This is better than what I had. Better than being miserable and angry all the time. I'm glad we're trying. Even if you're still suspicious of me."
"I am suspicious," Caspian confirmed.
"That's fair," Caroline said. "I would be suspicious too. But I meant what I said at dinner. I want to make this work. Whatever 'this' becomes."
She met his eyes directly, no guile visible in her expression, just honest sincerity that Caspian wanted to believe despite all logic suggesting he shouldn't.
"We'll see," he said.
"We will," Caroline agreed, selecting the chocolate dessert. She took a bite and made that sound again—that soft, satisfied hum that went straight through Caspian's carefully maintained composure.
He took another long drink of tea.
This was going to be more complicated than he'd anticipated.
Caroline enjoying desserts with the same expression she'd worn during that night in the garden. Caroline calling him 'my husband' and blushing when he caught her watching him train. Caroline being gentle with a dangerous creature and genuinely apologizing for past wrongs.
Caspian was a tactical genius. He could analyze battlefields, predict enemy movements, plan campaigns months in advance.
But he had absolutely no idea what to do with a wife who looked at chocolate cake the way most women looked at jewels, who named apex predators after desserts, and who made his carefully controlled world feel suddenly unpredictable.
"Same time tomorrow?" Caroline asked, finishing her chocolate cake with obvious satisfaction.
Caspian heard himself saying yes before his tactical mind could suggest this might be unwise.
"Excellent," Caroline said, smiling at him with what appeared to be genuine pleasure. "I look forward to it. And I'll see you at dinner tonight as well?"
"Of course," Caspian said. They were starting to establish a pattern, he realized—dinner together each evening. Another opportunity to observe her behavior. To gather intelligence.
To see her blush when she looks at you, his traitorous mind supplied.
"Wonderful," Caroline said, her smile widening.
So did he, Caspian realized with some alarm.
He was looking forward to having dinner tonight and tea with his wife tomorrow.
To watching her feed pastries to her future apex predator.
To seeing that delighted expression when she tasted something sweet.
To the way she called him 'my husband' as if it meant something.
Edwin was right.
He was absolutely doomed.