I blew out a breath. “Ami, I only meant—”
“I don’t care what you meant.” She rubbed her eyes and looked away. “I’m tired and I’m willing to face a long night for a few hours of peace right now, all right? It’s not like I’ll be doing anything else with my time. At least I won’t be distracted by you.”
I stiffened at the well-aimed jab. Finding time alone together had become a challenge, even with the Tala nurses and other retainers. The twins loved being with their mother best, especially Stella, who seemed to understand she’d been unfairly deprived of Ami’s loving care for that first month she’d been in her abductor’s hands and was determined to make up for it. If they couldn’t have Ami, they wanted to be climbing on me, showering me with affection that warmed even the burned-out coal of my heart. It struck me then that I’d be losing Astar and Stella, too, when I left.
They would be too young to remember me. Much better for them, as they shouldn’t be warped by my presence, seeing a man like me as some sort of father figure. A bitter comfort.
Still, I’d thought Ami enjoyed the sneaking about, finding places to be together where we wouldn’t be discovered. Especially when I put my hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure, and sternly ordered her not to move. All for discretion’s sake—but also a game that excited us both. The memories of those stolen moments sent a shudder of need through me, and I wanted her with as much helpless lust as ever. The thought of never touching her again…
“Ash,” she whispered, her eyes dark on my face before she determinedly averted them. “Don’t look at me that way. I … can’t.”
I nodded stiffly and tried to think of what I should say.
“Would you—” She held up a hand alongside her face, as if shielding her eyes from the sun. “Would you please just go away?”
I nodded again, even though she wouldn’t see it, and rode into the wind to tell Graves of the decision.
4
“Your Highness, Queen Amelia—welcome to Lianore!” The duchess swept a deep curtsey to Ami, her elaborate brocaded skirts glittering with crystals.
“Lady Veronica.” Ami brushed self-consciously at her skirts, then held out her hands to raise up the older woman. I knew Ami felt underdressed in her traveling gown and cloak. Never mind that she outshone everyone, even dressed in peasant rags. Another aspect of how she lacked the confidence others assumed she possessed—she liked to be polished or she felt vulnerable. “It’s so good of you to welcome us with no notice.”
“Not good of me at all, Your Highness,” Lady Veronica assured her. “This manse is enormous and benefits from having people stay. And, I’ve a number of parties planned for the Feast of Moranu—your blessing on the preparations will guarantee that I’m the most popular hostess of the season! Also, I’ll be able to make everyone jealous that I’ve seen the precious prince and princess.” She peeked ostentatiously around Ami to Willy and Nilly—thankfully in human form, but hiding behind their mother’s full skirts—then curtseyed again. “Welcome to Lianore, Your Highnesses. Princess Stella, Prince Astar—do you like pastries and sugared fruits?”
Wonderful. No way the twins would pass up that offer and impossible that they’d sleep any time soon. Ami glanced over her shoulder at me, gaze opaque, a set to her mouth that dared me to comment. I kept quiet. She’d told me it wasn’t my problem.
Astar hung back still, but Stella pushed forward—small fingers in her mouth, but beaming—and nodded emphatically. Following her lead, and not one to miss out on a treat of any sort, Astar stepped out, threw back his head and howled, but fortunately retained human shape.
The duchess gestured the children toward the feast hall—an invitation they accepted by taking off at top speed—and Ami looped her arm through Lady Veronica’s, her bright head tilted toward the darker one.
Servants stepped up to show us men the way to the barracks, though Graves knew the way. I followed along, habitually checking the security of the premises. The Duchess of Lianore had been widowed a number of years and had preserved her lands and manse intact despite several internecine conflicts. She was no fool—and the alertness of her guards reflected that.
“Lord Ash!” the duchess called.
I looked back to see her hastening after me. “Come and join us.” She smiled warmly and I automatically took the hands she held out, her fingers thin and festooned with rings. Large earrings with cascades of crystals matching those on her gown sparkled with the chagrined shake of her head. “So rude of me,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “not to make sure you knew to come with us, not go with the men at arms.” She looped her arm through mine, giving me a choice between going with her or fighting her off. “But you’ll forgive me, won’t you? I’m sure you know better than most how dazzling your lady can be.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” I tried, “but I am no lord and—”
“Nonsense. I’ll make you a lord of one of my little properties if I must. It’s hardly a secret, the amour you share with our lovely queen.” She winked at me. “You make her happy, so you at least deserve a small farm and cottage. I shall dub you Lord Sousbois. It’s a small place, but I doubt you’ll spend any time there.”
Though a bright star of a headache formed behind the bridge of my nose, I could no more argue with her and still be polite than I could resist her elegantly dragging me into the feast hall. The long table for dining guests was set as if a party might commence at any moment—and grander than anything I’d ever seen, even at Castle Avonlidgh. Old King Erich, Hugh’s father, had been an ancient warhorse of a soldier, a relic of the Great War, and treated the capital of Avonlidgh more as a fortress than anything. I understood why Ami found the place gloomy in its austerity. And Castle Ordnung, despite best efforts to restore it to something of its former glory, still couldn’t match this—even if Her Majesty had been the sort to have the patience for it.
My parents had celebrated the Feast of Moranu when I was young, but had never possessed the wherewithal for anything on this scale. Still, I recognized many of the elements. The impoverished boy in me soaked it in with delighted wonder—and a bite of jealousy at what he’d missed. That same poisonous envy that had plagued me watching all those men dance with Ami.