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I wrapped my arms around his head, and I held him to me as my own tears began to fall. I stroked his head as my mind raced to think of how this would come to be. If Hadley agreed to come here and provide such a service, how would our lives together change? Would Branford still be here with me in our bed at night, or would he go to her?
How could I bear watching him leave our rooms to be with Hadley?
Then I remembered the times Whitney had come to our castle—to my home—with her sneers and her veiled insults. How many times had she suggested I was too inadequate to be Branford’s wife? How many times had she all but said I was unfit for my station and unworthy of the family I now called my own?
I would not give her or anyone the satisfaction of thinking I was too weak to perform my royal duties. If those duties included having another woman bear my children to continue my husband’s bloodline, then that is what I would do.
As I reached this conclusion, Branford’s sudden outburst startled me.
“I will not do it!” Branford yelled with his voice full of venom. He stood with me still in his arms, turned around, and lowered me back to the chair before he started pacing the room with vigor. “They cannot force me to lie with her! Even if they bring her, I will still refuse!”
“Branford, what are you saying?”
He stopped moving and turned to stare at me. I could see his gaze darting back and forth as he considered his options. He took a deep breath and nodded as he came to some kind of conclusion.
“I will take you away with me,” he said softly. He came back to the chair and knelt in front of me as he glanced toward the door conspiratorially. “We will both leave Silverhelm forever. There are many lands far away, and I have skills that would be welcome in any kingdom’s army. As long as they do not know who we really are…”
I looked into my husband’s eyes and knew he would do what he envisioned. He would take me from here as he had proclaimed. I could see it written all over his face. He would leave his family, his kingdom, his right to the throne, his home, and his duty…for me.
I shook my head slowly from side to side.
“Branford,” I said as I reached for his arm, “we cannot do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because your duty is here, and your people are here,” I told him. “You said yourself—you will need to take the throne. In these times, you cannot abandon your people when they need you most. Could you just leave Camden and Sunniva with no successor? You might as well hand Edgar the entire kingdom before you go. We cannot do that. Your sister’s child will be born soon. Would you choose to never look upon your niece or nephew? Would you never again see your sister? No, Branford, I cannot let you do that. We cannot leave.”
His expression became crestfallen, and his breathing emerged labored.
“Then what can I do?” he asked. His eyes pleaded with me to give him another answer—another option—but I had none to offer. He dropped his head to my lap, turning his face to one side as I placed my hands on top of his head. My fingers entwined with the soft strands of my husband’s hair.
My husband.
He was now, and would always be, my husband. No matter what else anyone forced upon us, we would still belong to each other.
My love.
“You can do your duty to your people and your kingdom,” I said softly to him. “You can father an heir with your concubine, and we will raise the child as ours.”
His head turned slowly so he could look up at me.
“How can I?”
“You must, Branford,” I said. “You must do this to bring a child to Silverhelm as its king after you. Even if I cannot…if I cannot bear your child, it still must be done.”
He reached out and worked his arms around my waist, and he held his face to my belly.
“I love you,” I heard him whisper.
“As I love you, my Branford.”
His gaze turned back up to mine.
“Always yours.”
He stood slowly and pulled me up into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest before he turned us both around and sat back in the chair. He pulled me with him, and I straddled his legs and leaned forward to place my lips upon his mouth.
At first, our kisses were soft and slow, but as I felt his desperation for me grow once again, he moved his hands inside my robe—pushing it apart until our bare chests were pressed together.
