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I looked at Branford sitting on the ground with a piece of straw in his hands. He slowly pulled it apart with his long fingers.
“You are sulking,” I said. I tried to keep my tone light though I wasn’t completely successful. “Will you do this every time you must…must…”
“Please do not speak of it,” he whispered quickly. He dropped his head into his hands. “I cannot…I cannot even think of…of what I’ve done…”
His voice hitched in his throat, but when I reached out to comfort him, he withdrew from me.
“How can you still bear to be in my presence?” he asked. He looked at me, and his pained expression hit me in the chest.
“You are still my husband,” I said, reminding him as I tried to keep my tears from reappearing. I moved closer beside him in the straw. “That has not changed.”
“I failed you,” he whispered. “I kept this possibility from you…did not prepare you for what could come. It is the same as how I failed to prepare for war, denying myself thoughts of a possible loss and what it would mean. I was blinded by my arrogance.”
“You have not failed me, Branford.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, and he did not pull away. “You have done what you must do for your people.”
“What if I fail them again as I failed them in war?” he asked though I did not believe he expected an answer from me. “What if Hadley does not…”
“Shh.” I hushed him as I moved closer. “Let us cope with one difficulty at a time, shall we? I do not honestly believe I can handle more than the present one right now.”
He finally looked directly at me and reached out his arms. I moved my arms around his neck as his encircled my body. His head rested against my shoulder, and he took several slow, steady breaths before speaking again.
“You will be far better as a queen than I will ever be as a king.”
I placed my fingers under his chin as he had often done to me in the first months of our union. I tilted his head up and moved mine to one side as I spoke.
“You will be a fine king, my Branford,” I told him. “The people of Silverhelm love you and look to you as their prince.”
“They love my choice of wife,” Branford said with a snort, “not me. I have only caused them war and pain. You are the one they cherish.”
“You have often told me we are one and the same,” I reminded him. “Of one flesh, we are. Will you take back those words?”
He tilted his head sideways, and his eyes closed partway. His chest rose and fell with his breath before he turned his gaze back to me.
“Never,” he whispered. “You complete me.”
“Our people love you,” I said again. “You have made your mistakes, and you have tried to rectify those as much as you can. Someday, you will set it all right again.”
“But in the meantime, I am at the mercy of that bastard in the next kingdom.” Branford pushed at the ground with both hands until he stood. He took several steps away from me, toward the opposite wall from where he sat. He placed his palms against the wood slats in the kennel and leaned heavily on them.
“There are days I wish I had died in that war.”
“Branford, no—”
“Many days,” he said, interrupting. “When I look at the families of the men who died in my war or see Dunstan trying to hold his head up as he limps around the castle, I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could somehow trade my life to erase all the damage I have done to my p
eople. There are only two things that keep me bound to this earth—my duty to my kingdom and you.”
“I already betrayed my kingdom because of my lust for vengeance,” he said quietly. He did not move from his position facing the wall. “I thought…I thought at the very least, I would never betray you.”
He turned slowly toward me, his green eyes blazing in the torchlight.
“And now I have.” His voice cracked. “And if she does not become with child this month, I will have to do it over and over again until she does.”
My stomach clenched, and I felt that I, too, might be sick. He was right, of course, and I knew this, but to hear him speak the words aloud was almost more than I could take. I stood, wanting to scream and deny what he said, but I knew I could not. It was something that simply had to be done.
I stood and took a step toward him. When he did not flinch, I went to him and threw myself into his arms. I pressed my face against the soft material of his shirt and inhaled the scent of him. The closeness had come to represent security and safety, and still I felt the warmth of his skin enveloping me and calming me.
Branford ducked his head, and I could hear his deep breath as he buried his face in my hair. He stroked from the top of my head to my waist again and again.
