Chapter 33
The Walk of Shame
The training grounds of Frostholme were active at ten o'clock in the morning, but something was off.
Normally, by this hour, the Duke would have already led his men through four hours of rigorous drills and moved on to his other duties. But this morning, Captain Edwin was running the training session—something that rarely happened when the Duke was in residence.
The drills were competent but subdued. The men went through their forms with less intensity than usual, casting occasional glances toward the courtyard gates.
Edwin stood watching the troops, arms crossed, barely suppressing a grin.
"Should we send someone to check on him?" Lieutenant Marcus asked quietly during a water break, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
"Give it another few minutes," Edwin said, his grin widening.
"He's never been late before," one of the younger soldiers said. "Not once. Not in the entire time I've served here."
"First time for everything," Edwin replied.
"Do you think something's wrong?" another soldier asked. "What if there was an attack? What if—"
"There was definitely an attack," Edwin said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just not the kind you're thinking of."
Several of the soldiers snickered.
Then, finally, the gate opened.
Duke Vanthorn strode into the training grounds, his silver hair still slightly damp from a recent bath, his expression utterly relaxed in a way none of them had seen before.
Edwin stepped forward immediately, his face arranged in an expression of exaggerated concern.
"Your Grace!" he exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "We were about to send a search party! We thought Blightspawn had invaded the estate! That corrupted creatures had breached the walls and dragged you from your bed in the night!"
Caspian stopped, one eyebrow rising. "Edwin."
"Truly, we were moments away from mobilizing," Edwin continued, warming to his performance. "Perhaps even alerting your father. After all, you've never—not once in eleven years of service—missed morning training."
"I'm aware," Caspian said dryly.
"So naturally, we assumed the worst," Edwin said. "A catastrophic emergency. A crisis of unprecedented proportions. Perhaps even—"
"Are you finished?" Caspian interrupted.
"Almost," Edwin said, then shifted to a more teasing tone. "Where have you been, Your Grace? Did you perhaps get lost between your chambers and the training grounds? Should we post additional signs? Mark a clearer path?"
Several soldiers coughed to hide their laughter.
Caspian's expression remained perfectly composed. "Are you quite done?"
"Oh, wait," Edwin said, his grin becoming absolutely wicked. "I've just remembered. The servants mentioned that the Duchess is missing from her chambers this morning. How strange. And several guards reported seeing you carrying Her Grace to YOUR bedchamber last night. How very curious."
The soldiers weren't even trying to hide their amusement now.
"And," Edwin continued, "the kitchen staff mentioned they brought breakfast to YOUR room this morning. For two people. What an interesting coincidence."
Caspian's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but close.
"So," Edwin concluded, "would you like to revise your story about being delayed by Blightspawn?"
Behind them, soldiers were frantically exchanging coins, trying to be discreet and failing miserably.
"I told you!" one hissed. "Before the month was out! Pay up!"
"The Duchess actually tamed The Butcher," another muttered in awe.
"He's NEVER been late," a third said. "Not once. Not for anything. And now—"
"I said she'd have him wrapped around her finger within weeks," someone else crowed. "You all doubted me!"
Caspian looked past Edwin to where his men were conducting their barely-concealed betting settlement.
"You bet on when I'd be late to training?" he asked.
Immediate silence.
Several soldiers suddenly found the ground very interesting. A few others attempted to look innocent and failed spectacularly.
"Actually, Your Grace," one brave soul admitted, "we bet on when the Duchess would successfully distract you enough to make you late."
"Or," another soldier added, "when you'd stop being able to leave your wife's bed in the mornings."
"That's the same bet, Garrett," someone else said.
"No it's not. There's nuance—"
"Gentlemen," Caspian said, and everyone immediately fell silent.
He looked around at his assembled men, all of whom were watching him with a mix of trepidation and barely-suppressed amusement.
Then Caspian smiled—actually smiled, wide enough for everyone to see.
"I'm a married man now, Captain," he said to Edwin. "A happily married man. My wife had... needs this morning."
The training grounds erupted.
Soldiers whooped. Someone dropped their practice sword in shock. Edwin laughed so hard he had to brace himself against a training post.
"Saints preserve us," Lieutenant Marcus said faintly. "He made a joke. The Duke made an actual joke about his—"
"His spicy married life," Edwin finished, wiping tears from his eyes. "Oh, this is the best day of my entire military career."
"Should we even bother with training today?" someone called out. "Or should we just accept that the world has fundamentally changed and nothing makes sense anymore?"
Caspian walked to the weapons rack and selected his practice swords with his usual efficiency. "Of course we're training."
"Really?" Edwin asked. "You're four hours late and you want to train now?"
"I have to maintain my physique," Caspian said, testing the weight of the blades. "My wife has certain... expectations."
The laughter that followed probably echoed all the way to the main estate.
"I can't," Edwin gasped. "I actually can't. This is too much."
"Your Grace," Lieutenant Marcus managed, "with all due respect, who are you and what have you done with our Duke?"
"I got married," Caspian said simply. "Properly married, this time. And I intend to enjoy it."
He moved to the center of the training ground, falling into a ready stance. "Now, are we training or are you all going to stand there gaping like landed fish?"
That got them moving, though the grins didn't fade.
Edwin joined him, picking up his own practice weapons. "You're in an excellent mood."
"I am," Caspian agreed.
"Four hours late."
"Yes."
"Making jokes about your wife's needs."
"Also yes."
"And completely unapologetic about all of it."
"Why would I apologize?" Caspian asked, blocking Edwin's first strike with ease. "I'm exactly where I want to be. Doing exactly what I want to do. With exactly who I want to be with."
Edwin grinned, pressing the attack. "Marriage agrees with you."
"Married life with Caroline agrees with me," Caspian corrected, parrying and counter-striking. "There's a difference."
They moved through the familiar patterns of their sparring, but even Edwin could tell something had changed. Caspian's movements were as precise as ever, his skill undiminished.
But there was a lightness to him now. A looseness that hadn't been there before.
He looked... happy.
Actually, genuinely happy.
"So," Edwin said as they broke apart and reset. "The Duchess. She's... different now?"
"Very different," Caspian said.
"Good different?"
"The best different," Caspian said, and there was something warm in his voice that made Edwin's grin widen. "She chose me, Edwin. Not because of obligation or family pressure. She chose me."
"And you chose her back."
"Without hesitation."
Edwin nodded, then lunged forward with a complex combination that Caspian deflected smoothly.
"I'm happy for you," Edwin said sincerely. "Truly. You deserve this."
"Thank you."
They continued sparring, and around them, the rest of the soldiers continued their own training routines. But everyone kept stealing glances at their Duke, who was moving through familiar patterns with a small smile on his face.
The Butcher of the North.
The Frost Reaper.
Winter's Blade.
Currently four hours late to training because his wife had "needs," and completely shameless about it.
"You know the men are going to talk about this for months," Edwin said.
"Let them," Caspian replied. "I don't care."
"They're going to make up increasingly ridiculous stories."
"Still don't care."
"Someone's probably going to write a very inappropriate ballad."
"Edwin."
"What? I'm just preparing you for the inevitable."
"The only thing inevitable," Caspian said, executing a particularly impressive disarming maneuver, "is that I'm going to continue being late to training sometimes. And I'm not going to apologize for it."
"Because of your wife's needs," Edwin said, grinning.
"Because I'm choosing my wife," Caspian corrected. "Every time. Without question."
"Even over your sacred morning training routine that you've maintained religiously for a decade?"
"Especially over that."
Edwin shook his head in mock despair. "You're completely lost to us."
"I prefer to think of it as found," Caspian said. "I was lost before. Now I know exactly where I belong."
"In your wife's bed until ten in the morning?"
"Among other places," Caspian agreed cheerfully. "But yes, that's certainly become a favorite location."
Lieutenant Marcus, sparring nearby, missed his strike entirely and nearly took out his partner. "I'm sorry, did our Duke just—"
"Yes," Edwin confirmed. "Yes, he did. Just accept it and move on."
The training session continued, and despite starting four hours late, Caspian pushed through every drill with his usual intensity.
But when it finally ended and the men began dispersing, Edwin caught his arm.
"Seriously, though," Edwin said quietly. "I'm glad you found this. Found her. You've been alone too long."
"I didn't know how alone I was," Caspian admitted. "Until I wasn't anymore."
"The Duchess—Caroline—she makes you happy."
"Deliriously so."
"Then she has my complete and eternal loyalty," Edwin said. "Any woman who can make The Butcher of the North show up four hours late to training with a smile on his face and jokes about his wife's needs deserves a medal."
"I'll let her know you approve," Caspian said dryly.
"Please don't," Edwin said quickly. "I'd like to maintain some professional dignity."
"Too late for that," Caspian pointed out. "You're the one who made the speech about Blightspawn invasions."
"That was comedy gold and you know it."
"It was ridiculous."
"And yet you're smiling," Edwin observed.
Caspian didn't deny it. "I have a lot to smile about these days."
"Good," Edwin said firmly. "You deserve it. All of it."
As Caspian walked back toward the main estate, he could hear the soldiers behind him still discussing the morning's unprecedented events.
"Four hours late!"
"Making jokes!"
"About his wife!"
"Did you see him smile? Like, actually smile?"
"The Duchess must be amazing."
"Or terrifying."
"Possibly both."
"Definitely both."
Caspian's smile widened.
Yes, he thought. Caroline was definitely both.
Amazing and terrifying and absolutely perfect.
And he couldn't wait to get back to her.