Page 75 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

Caspian looked back at the letter, at the itemized list of tapestries and furniture and artwork that Caroline had commissioned. Things to make Frostholme warmer. More welcoming.

A place worth coming back to.

"The siblings want to meet you properly," Edwin said. "That's actually good news. It means they're willing to give you a chance. To see that you're not the monster they probably feared."

"I am called The Butcher of the North," Caspian pointed out. "Their concern isn't unreasonable."

"True," Edwin agreed. "Which makes it all the more significant that they're still there, helping your wife decorate instead of dragging her back to the capital. They've seen her. Talked to her. Observed the changes. And they're staying."

"Until I return," Caspian said. "Sterling says they want to meet with me."

"To assess whether you're treating their sister well," Marcus said. "Standard protective sibling behavior."

"Are you treating her well?" Thomson asked.

Caspian thought about the question. Was he treating Caroline well?

He'd invited her to dinner. Shared tea with her. Let her keep a dangerous pet. Agreed to her redecorating projects without question. Spent the last three days fighting through a Blightspawn incursion with unusual aggression specifically so he could get home to her faster.

"I'm trying to," Caspian said finally.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," Edwin said. "Let them assess. Let them see how you interact with their sister. If they're reasonable people—and Sterling seems to think they are—they'll recognize that you're not the threat they feared."

"And if they're not reasonable?"

"Then we deal with it," Edwin said simply. "But I suspect they will be. People don't help someone redecorate an estate they plan to remove them from."

Caspian rolled up the letter, his mind already working through the complications of tomorrow's return.

Caroline would be there. Happy to see him, if her words in the courtyard had been genuine.

Her siblings would be there. Protective. Suspicious. Evaluating.

The estate would be in the middle of redecorating projects.

It was going to be complicated.

"We leave at first light," Caspian said. "I want to be back at Frostholme by early evening."

"To deal with the siblings?" Marcus asked.

"To deal with everything," Caspian said.

After his officers left, Caspian remained at his desk, staring at Sterling's letter.

Nine thousand, six hundred gold crowns.

Tapestries. Furniture. Artwork. Plants.

Making Frostholme feel like home.

He thought about Caroline standing in the courtyard when he left, telling him she'd miss him. The way she'd looked worried for his safety. The way she'd called him 'my husband' with such natural possessiveness.

The way she was apparently spending his money to make his cold military estate into something warmer.

Something worth coming home to.

"Pathetic," Caspian muttered to himself again.