In Her Shadow(9)

It's just nerves, she told herself as she rose.

The Governor swung his arm to the man behind him. "My son, Dux Lucius. Dux Lucius, this is your intended. Uh. . ."

"Britta," she said.

"Ah, yes. Sorry, I didn't quite catch it earlier. Please, everyone have a seat."

Dux Lucius did not react, his face as stern as it had been when he entered the room. And when they all sat down at the table, it remained stern.

"It should only be a minute before the staff brings our supper," said the Governor, halfway through unfurling his silverware. He looked like he was ready to say something else when a guard burst into the room. He glanced around for half a breath before he went to the Governor and whispered something in his ear. The Governor sat his silverware down on his plate and sighed. "If you two will excuse me," he said. "I've a bit of business to attend to. Please, Britta, enjoy your meal and the company of Dux Lucius. Dux Lucius, this might take a while. Make sure she gets home alright." And with that, he and the soldier vanished.

Britta glanced across the table at Lucius, hoping to get some sense of him. He stared at his plate. Did he blink? This wasn't normal behavior for a person. He hadn't even greeted her when introduced. Was he happy or unhappy with their arranged marriage? Britta had met the previous Dux once. Charming, jolly and oozing corruption, he had been the exact opposite of the rigid man sitting across from her. It worried her.

Before her thoughts could go any further, the wait staff came in carrying steaming plates of fish and vegetable. Mussels piled upon clams. Lobsters with crab legs. A cornucopia of the sea, one she was long used to – perhaps not in such large proportions. She chuckled to herself as they set the food down between them.

"What?" Dux Lucius said, his voice firm and even.

Britta glanced from the food to him. He stared at her, face impassive. She, however, was wide eyed. By this point, she'd expected to spend the meal in uncomfortable silence. "It's – uh." Britta shook her head. "It's silly. For some reason, I had it in my head that if I were in a Regnal household eating supper, I'd be eating Regnal food. Not the food I've grown up with my entire life."

"Ah," said Lucius, his face unchanged as he picked out the vegetables buried beneath the seafood and piled them on his plate.

"You don't like fish?" she asked.

He didn't respond at first, shoveling a fork full of kale into his mouth. Had there been a flicker of a frown when he tasted it? Britta wasn't sure. If so, she couldn't blame him. Surely the kale had absorbed the flavor of both the sea and its salt.

"I neither like nor dislike it," he said after he swallowed it down, but did not elaborate, focusing again on his food.

Britta pushed hers around on her plate. Why did she feel more alone now than she had when she'd actually been alone? "We should talk," she said.

Lucius didn't look up. "About what?"

"We're getting married."

"Yes, I know."

"That's something we should discuss."

"Why? It's happening. There's nothing either of us can do but accept it. Why talk about it?"

Britta set her fork down on her plate as gently as she could, afraid dropping it or slamming it might give the wrong impression. "It sounds like it bothers you–"

"It doesn't. I'm neither for nor against it."

"That sounds like a man who is angry."

His eyes flickered up from his plate and his gaze met hers. "Does it? I don't mean it to be. It's a good thing for us to get married, to help secure the peace between our two peoples."

"Okay," she said. "Peace between our two peoples. But what about us? We're going to have to live with this the rest of our lives. We should have some sort of discussion about how this affects us."

"Should we?"

Britta grit her teeth. What was his problem? "Yes, we should."

Dux Lucius wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair. "Alright then," he said. "Talk."

"Well. . ." Britta pushed her plate away as she turned her words over in her mind. She hadn't expected to be in this position, so she hadn't thought over what to say. What challenges might present themselves to two strangers forced into marriage? She'd been a fool not to have given this thought a long time before.

"Well?" he said and went back to eating.

"Children."

Lucius's didn't answer right away, his mouth full of kale again. He chewed slowly, excruciatingly, as if giving himself time to think it over. Maybe. Maybe he was just a slow chewer. His expression was, as it had been throughout, inscrutable. "One," he said.

"One? Only one? I thought you'd want more."

For the first time, Lucius's expression broke, if only for a second: his brow furrowed like he'd smelled something unpleasant. "I have one child." He went back to picking at the leafy greens on his plate. "I thought that's what you were asking."

"You do? I didn't know. That's the thing. I don't know anything about you. You don't know anything about me. We're going to have to find a way to make this work or we'll hate each other."

"No we won't."

Britta frowned. A strange thing to say. "We won't?"