Lady Kendall looked relieved. “Well, that’s good. It will give us longer to get to know the lieutenant. And to make some arrangements.”
Goddess, he’d seen that gleam in women’s eyes before. Mostly his mother’s when she’d been involved in arranging weddings for his brothers. No good came from such things. But his mother had died shortly after Alec’s wedding. So she wouldn’t be able to try to turn his wedding into a court spectacle. He and Sophie needed a quick and quiet wedding, much as he hated the thought that neither of his parents would be present.
But perhaps now wasn’t the best time to voice that opinion. Not with her father still likely to go off half-cocked if he thought his daughter was being slighted. He got the impression that Sophie had gotten that stubborn streak she’d demonstrated from him, along with the temper she mostly tried to hide.
From outside he heard the chimes of an hour bell somewhere nearby start to ring. Six. It would be growing dark. He was under strict orders to have Sophie back in the palace before nightfall. Which was another thing her parents weren’t going to like. But best to get it over with.
“We should be going,” he said. “It will be night soon.”
Lady Kendall looked stricken. “So soon? I thought you would be staying with us, Sophie.”
“The queen-to-be thinks Sophie will be safest in the palace.”
“The palace has bloody holes in its walls,” Sir Kendall objected.
“It’s also full of battle mages, Illusioners, and temple devouts,” Cameron said. “Given her powers, she is best protected by those for now. Goddess forbid there should be another attack, but if there is, Sophie will be of interest now that she’s manifested.”
“All the more reason to hide her away somewhere unexpected,” Sir Kendall grumbled, but he waved a hand. “Fine, then. Take her away. But I expect word of an audience time first thing in the morning. And, Sophie, you are to come see us again tomorrow.”
“I have to go to the temple,” Sophie said. “I’m having . . . instruction. And I need to attend the queen-to-be as well.”
“I’m sure you will still have a spare hour or two,” Sir Kendall said firmly. “Come here and let us fuss over you a bit. We’re not going to let the palace steal all of you from us. Not just yet.” He shot Cameron a look that brooked no argument. So Cameron didn’t offer one, just made his good-byes, gathered up his wife-to-be, and fled back to the palace.
The carriage shuddered and jolted over the cobblestones, and Sophie tried not to wish that she were staying behind with her parents, where things could be uncomplicated for a few hours, whether her father was angry or not. She didn’t think he would actually object to the wedding and, quite frankly, it wouldn’t matter if he did. Royal witches were the court’s to command.
She wasn’t sure she liked that thought now that it was real. Of course, the court could degree any noble marriage, but in reality that seldom happened where magic wasn’t involved.
A sigh escaped her, and Cameron looked back from the carriage window.
“Are you all right, milady?”
“Yes.” She sighed again, irritated at his insistence on formality. “Can’t you call me Sophie again? After all, we’re going to be married.”
His lips pressed together briefly; then he nodded. “As you wish. Sophie. When we’re in private.”
“Then you won’t have to remember it very often until after we’re married. Not if things continue as they have for the last day.”
“This is hardly a normal situation.”
“I know. It’s just . . .” She hesitated. “It’s just that we haven’t had a chance to talk. About this—” She waved a hand between them. “And I haven’t had a chance to . . . to apologize. I brought this on you.”
He shook his head. “It took two of us, Sophie.”
“I stepped into the ley line.”
“And I should have thought to warn you not to. Not to mention known better than to touch you once you did.” He shook his head again, looked rueful.
“You knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That a ley line might do . . . that.” She didn’t know how much the Red Guard standing outside on the back of the carriage where a groom would usually ride might be able to hear, so she kept her voice low.
Blue eyes widened for a second. “That it would make us power-crazed?” Cameron opened his mouth, then paused. “I had . . . heard,” he said eventually, and she knew he wasn’t about to tell her the whole truth, “that if two people with magic do such things, the power can make it more . . . intense.”
The words weren’t meant to hurt her, but they did. Because they meant that he could have been with any royal witch and he would have reacted the same way.
She looked away. “I see.”
“Forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m not offended. You were honest.” She leaned forward, touched his hand quickly, then drew back as the heat flared between them again. “I would like to think that we can give each other that, at least. Maybe we didn’t choose this marriage, but we can choose how to behave. Give each other respect, and maybe other things can come.”
He nodded. “That seems fair to me. All right, honesty, milady. I will give you that. If you will do the same for me.”
“Then can I ask you a question?”
Wariness. But then he nodded. “Of course.”
“Is there someone else? Someone you were hoping to wed?”
He straightened on the seat, large and solid in the small space. “No,” he said firmly. “No one I was hoping to wed.”
Which didn’t answer all of her question. The part about there being someone else. That made her think there was. Someone he wasn’t going to wed. Someone already married, perhaps.
“I wasn’t a virgin,” he added. “I have had other women in my bed.”
That brought an unexpectedly sharp pang of jealousy.