“Yes, Aunt,” Pauline answered. She cleared her throat, then lifted her chin. “This is my son. Would you like to see him?”
Silence vibrated through the room. Lady Adele’s mouth hung open. “How is it possible for you to have a son?” she finally asked.
Pauline shrugged. “Oh, I got him in much the usual way.”
Her aunt looked at me and my white-blond hair and then back at the baby. I saw the assumption she was making, and I was about to correct her, but then I said nothing. I would leave that to Pauline.
The baby broke the silence with a loud wail.
“Bring him here,” Berdi said holding her arms out. “I know how to rock that sweet potato so he—”
“No,” Lady Adele said. “Let me see the child. Does he have a name?”
Pauline crossed the room. “Not yet,” she said as she laid the baby in her aunt’s arms. “I’m still trying to find the right one.”
Lady Adele patted, jiggled, and shushed the baby, and he quieted. She looked up at Pauline, her eyes blinking, her hand still patting, and it seemed, her mind spinning. “Finding a name isn’t so hard,” she finally said. “We’ll help you. Now go sit, your stew is getting cold. I’ll hold him while you eat.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
Even through the closed balcony doors, I could hear the laughter in the dining room. It was a good thing. A rare thing. It was momentary, I knew. The worry would close in again, but for a few hours, it was a blessed saving grace from the cares that gripped us. Names for the baby had been bantered around the table. Orrin offered up his own name several times, but most of the names were drawn from revered historical lines in Morrighan. When Kaden suggested Rhys, saying that a name that had no Morrighese history to live up to might signify a fresh start, Pauline agreed and it was settled. The baby was named Rhys.
I had waited for at least five minutes after Rafe left to excuse myself. I didn’t want anyone to think his departure hastened my own—but it had. The room suddenly grew hot, and I needed air. He had never spoken or looked at me again after my toast, which shouldn’t have bothered me. There were so many at the table, so many conversations, and we were … nothing. At least nothing more than two leaders working together to find answers.
I heard the door open behind me, the conversations from the dining room growing briefly louder, then muffled again as the door clicked shut.
“Mind if I join you?” Sven asked.
I waved to the balcony rail beside me, though I really didn’t want any company. “Please do.”
This wing of the citadelle looked out on the forested hills—the same ones Pauline and I had disappeared into months ago. The tops of the trees were a black jagged edge against the starlit sky.
Sven stared out into what was mostly darkness. “You’re not cold out here?” he finally asked.
“What’s on your mind, Sven? It’s not the goose bumps on my arms.”
“I was surprised you offered a toast to the king’s betrothal.”
I sighed. “There’s been awkwardness. You’ve probably seen it. I thought it might be best just to get it out in the open and behind us.”
He nodded. “You’re right. It’s probably for the best.”
Bitterness rose in my throat. I hated things being for the best. They never really were. It was a phrase that sugarcoated the leftover crumbs of our options. “But I was surprised at how swiftly the betrothal happened after we parted.”
Sven looked at me oddly. “You do understand that he had no choice.”
“Yes, I know, for the stability of his reign.”
A furrow spread across his brow. “He turned down plenty of barons offering their daughters for the stability of his reign, but he couldn’t turn down the general’s offer.”
“Then the general’s daughter must be very special.”
“Without a doubt, she is. She—”
Why was he doing this to me? I turned to leave. “Excuse me, Sven, but I—”
He reached out and lightly touched my arm to stop me. “I figured he didn’t tell you everything. You need to hear this, Your Highness. It won’t change anything. It can’t change anything,” he said more gravely, “but maybe it will give you a better understanding of what the king had to do. I don’t want you to think him so shallow that as soon as you were out of his sight, he forgot you.”
He told me that Rafe had returned to a kingdom in more turmoil than any of them expected. The assembly and cabinet were at one another’s throats, commerce was in shambles, and the treasury greatly depleted. Dozens of decisions that had been put off were thrown at Rafe. He worked from sunup to late into the night. Everyone was looking for the young king to restore confidence and offered him a hundred opinions on how to do it, and all the while the general was breathing down his neck like a lion ready to pounce—the same general who had challenged him.