The King's Spinster Bride, (Royal Wedding #1)(14)
Mathior arrives a short time after dark, and I’m surprised to see that he is not alone. Three warriors have accompanied him, and as he enters my chambers and takes off his white fur cloak, the men line up against the wall and wait by the door.
“Is there a problem?” I ask as Mathior thumps down into the chair across from mine at the table.
“Problem?” he asks, filling a cup with wine and taking a large gulp of it. He drinks deeply and then leans back, sighing, as if he’s had a long day. I notice he’s a little sweaty, his long hair damp on the one side, and I feel suddenly nervous. My palms grow moist and my heart pounds because when he drinks again, he watches me over the brim of his cup.
“You have armed guards with you. Do you expect trouble?” I arch a brow. “Or do you expect me to assassinate you?”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I think you could not harm a flea, my lovely Halla.”
“Then what is it?”
Mathior sets down his cup and leans forward, giving me a sly grin. “We are not yet wedded. They are here to chaperone us, as is custom. Until I have claimed you as my wife, we cannot be alone together.”
Heat scalds my cheeks. “I see.” I pick up my own cup and take a long drink, because I need a bit of courage after hearing that. His words—and the sexy tone he says them in—make me think of the upcoming wedding. I force myself to relax, to keep my tone neutral as I set down my cup. “I’ve let the housekeepers know that there will be a wedding ceremony. Just let me know when you would like to—”
“Tomorrow.” His one eye gleams with a possessive light as he takes another drink. “We begin tomorrow with the Revealing of the Bride.”
“Very well,” I say faintly. Tomorrow I will be stripped naked before the court and offered to him like a barbarian slave girl. I’m both horrified and aroused at the thought. Shifting in my seat to ease the throbbing between my thighs, I toy with my cup. “How long will you remain in Yshrem after the ceremony?”
His gaze narrows. “What do you mean?”
I fear I’ve offended him. The eve before my wedding is not the time to anger my conquering bridegroom, and I feel a shiver of worry skitter down my spine. I lick my lips and compose myself. “Your father did not remain in Yshrem. Your people are a nomadic one, are they not? The hunting lands are not impressive here. We are a cultivated country with fields and not forests. I am merely curious how long you will remain in Yshrem for the wedding before you and your men leave to return to your homelands.”
Mathior gets to his feet. Everything inside me clenches, and I worry I’ve said or done something so offensive that he’s going to leave. I open my mouth to protest, but as I watch, he heads toward the shuttered window instead, and my fears die in my throat. He pushes open the casement shutters and then looks over at me, gesturing out. “Come and tell me what you see.”
I rise and move to his side, my skirts swishing over the stone floors. “It’s dark outside.”
“Not so very dark,” he tells me. “Come and look anyhow.”
I do, peering out the window. My chambers are high up in the keep itself, so I have a good view of the castle surroundings. The courtyard below has the usual shuffle of servants and guards heading back and forth on their tasks, the stables full this time of night. Torches flicker on the battlements. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, so I look farther. Outside of the castle walls themselves, I see dark shapes dotting the ground, and campfires. Horses wander between the shapes and I realize the triangular dark shapes are tents. The cyclops warriors have chosen to stay outside of the castle walls. “What does this mean?”
“Mean?” he asks, brow furrowing.
“They do not stay within the gates of Castle Yshrem? Is that what you wished for me to see?”
Mathior chuckles. “They do not stay within because they choose to be near their horses, nothing more. No, I wished for you to see that they set up tents.” He gives me an amused look, as if this explains everything.
I’m even more confused than before, though. “And?”
“And a cyclops does not set up a home unless he is staying for a time. He will sleep under the stars if he will journey onward shortly.” He reaches out and touches the long singular braid I have over my shoulder. My hair is so long and thick that I don’t want to leave it loose like the cyclops do, but one of the ornate braids of my people seems uncompromising. So I tied it into a simple, loose braid over one shoulder. As he touches it, I’m oddly glad that I did such a small thing. He likes my hair, and it fills me with pleasure at such a small realization. It takes me a moment to realize he is still speaking, even as he touches my braid. “My men and I are staying.”
“You are?” I cannot help but be surprised. “In Yshrem?”
“For a time, yes.” He doesn’t let go of my braid, thoughtfully rubbing the tail of it between his thumb and forefinger as he gazes out the window. “It’s clear to me that my father was wrong in many of his choices. I will not say he was wrong to conquer this place”—and he flashes me a grin—“but he was wrong to ignore it in favor of his own preferences. A good king must see to all his people, and now that it is mine, I must see to its well-being as much as any cyclops lands.”
I’m impressed by his thoughts. He seems young to me, but his words are wise. “I can rule from here if you are needed elsewhere.”