The Concubine (Unexpected Circumstances 5)

“Of course you should,” I said, correcting him. “I am your wife. We share all of our burdens, this one most of all.”

He huffed again before looking back to my eyes and reaching out for my hand. He gripped it tightly and then pulled it to his lap as he ran his fingers over mine.

“One day in the near future, you will take the throne,” I said, “and I will be at your side as your queen. We must perform our duties to Silverhelm, no matter what they are. If we will not sacrifice for the good of our people, how could we ask them to sacrifice for us? How could we ask them to give up the grain they give to feed those on the other side of the kingdom? How could we ask them to send their sons to die in our wars if we will not do this for them…for Silverhelm?”

“Have we not done enough?” he asked. “Have you not done enough for your people? You already endure my presence, regardless of my mood. You…you are the only thing that keeps me grounded in my duties.”

He chuckled though there was no humor in the sound.

“And here you are, reminding me of my duty again,” he said, “but at what cost to you?”

“The cost to me is less than it would be if I were forced aside for another,” I reminded him. “This way we will have our child, and I will still be at your side.”

“I do not want to do this to you,” he said again.

“You must do this, Branford,” I said softly as I brushed my lips against his. “Go to her and create the child we need. You must do this for our people.”

“You are…so much better than I,” he whispered. “How can you bear this with such grace when I can hardly contain what this is doing to me?”

With my fingers placed just below his jaw on either side of his face, I tilted his head to me.

“Branford,” I started to say, attempting to use a tone I thought would be most convincing—a tone most like Sunniva’s, “sometimes I need Janet’s help when lacing up a dress, especially some of the fancier ones you enjoy the most when you take me out onto the dance floor and show me off to visitors.”

His expression was confused, but he nodded.

“Would I have been less dressed if Janet had not helped me?”

“Less dressed?” he questioned.

I obviously was not making my point clear enough. I tried again.

“Do you recall the Harvest Celebration this year?”

“Of course.”

“Do you remember what I wore?”

“Very much so,” Branford said, and a hint of a smile returned.

“All those laces and ribbons!” I smiled at the memory. “The gold and black interlaced with the browns and oranges of harvest.”

“You were stunning,” he whispered as he reached up and stroked my check once.

“You found me beautiful?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Branford said with reverence.

“Even though Janet had to dress me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t even reach the very first of the laces,” I told him, “and there was no way I could have attached all those ribbons myself. Janet spent several hours making the dress look right on me. Did you realize that?”

“Not so much, no,” Branford said. He was confused again.

“Was I less attractive to you because I could not have worn it had it not been for Janet’s help?”

“Of course not!”