Page 97 of Crimson Kingdom
“Planning to poison me, Lemmikki?” The corner of his lip quirked up, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s to prevent...heirs.” I watched his face carefully, but his expression didn’t twitch. With a sigh, I went on. “You said you didn’t need them. Does that mean you don’t want them?”
He searched my features, his own carefully neutral. “It means, as I said, that it makes no difference to me.”
No difference.
While I was imagining a life and a future with Evander, was he content with the fact that we belonged to each other in some distant way, no matter where we were?
“Of course it doesn’t,” I breathed out bitterly.
He raised his eyebrows, but the rest of his face was carved into careful neutrality. “Am I to understand that you’re both upset with me for making decisions for you and upset with me when I don’t?”
For you.Not us. Me.
I abruptly realized that all the talking in the world wouldn’t force him to see this differently, and I was tired. Tired of arguing on our wedding night, tired of the push and pull that defined our lives.
“You’re right,” I said, willing my face to be as indifferent as his was. “I’m being ridiculous. You have made it amply apparent on now four separate occasions that it makes no difference to either you or the alliance whether I even stay in the same kingdom as you, so I suppose I’m the only one making an issue of it.”
“Feel free to recall that you wouldn’t even consider my proposal before I made that offer.” There was an edge to his voice.
“Is that what you think?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Evander, if you had come into that council room and proposed a real marriage, there would have been no question. No debate. No talk of territories or trade or advantages.”
He went still.
“Instead,” I continued, my voice rising, “you waltzed in talking about ownership and benefits and how little you cared if I was around. So I got to spend a week agonizing over whether to choose the man who wanted to share a life with me, even if I could never truly return his feelings, or the one who I loved with every last broken piece of my soul but refused to admit he wanted a real marriage with me.”
A lump rose in my throat, and my next words were barely a whisper. “And I am sick to death of trying to make you want things that you don’t.”
Evander’s eyes widened. He parted his lips as if to speak, but for once, he didn’t seem to know what to say.
Tears stabbed at the back of my eyes, so I got to my feet, turning around and gesturing vaguely toward the endless row of buttons on the back of my dress.
“Let’s just get this over with.” At least my voice was steady. “I won’t lie to my people, and we don’t even have the option of lying to yours. If we’re giving them an alliance, we can at least give them a real one.”
He still didn’t move, though, for long enough that I had time to reflect on the fact that the only thing worse than our wedding night as it was currently going would be if he rejected me on top of it all.
Then I felt his presence at my back, his hand going to sweep my hair across my neck, tucking it over one shoulder. Even that simple gesture sent energy humming across my skin.
A sigh escaped me, but I couldn’t be sure if it was relief or sadness.
What did I really expect him to say?
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than he sucked in a breath to speak.
“You are not the broken one,” he said, deftly unhooking the top pearl button from its loop. “And the life you would have in Bear, away from your family, sharing an estate with a woman who tried to kill you--and very nearly succeeded--dealing with Socairan prejudice and superstitions and politics, is a far cry from the one you have here.”
Something inside me splintered as I realized what he was saying.
Evander didn’t believe he was enough of a reason for me to leave my life here behind.
He unfastened another button. “I thought that by keeping my own desires to myself, I would allow you to make that decision unburdened. I see now, that was an oversight on my part.”
It might have been the first time I had ever heard him admit that he was wrong about anything. I held my breath.
“But as for what I want,” he said, pressing his lips to the bare skin at the nape of my neck. “Yes, I want to share my life with you. And yes, one day, I would like to grow our family.”
He continued with his slow unbuttoning, kissing every inch of skin he exposed. “What I want is to hear your voice every day, talking to my cat, teaching my soldiers inappropriate card games and tavern songs. I want your cursed hair in my face and your clothes strewn messily on my bedroom floor.”