Perhaps I am lying when I pretend as if a conversation is all that will take place in the king’s tent. Perhaps I ache to be the recipient of his hunger again.
When the dust settles at the auction tonight, the final event of the Joining, I might end up betrothed to someone who doesn’t attract me like Corbet does.
In fact, finding a man who arouses me so insistently would be impossible. I’ve seen the offerings in the crowd at each competition and I’m more likely to loathe whoever I end up with, but at least my sisters will be cared for and we can keep the farm.
My trepidation over a lifetime with someone who doesn’t excite my body might actually be the reason I’m allowing myself to be guided to Corbet’s tent.
There, I admitted it.
If I’m going to resign myself to a life of sharing a bed with someone far less dynamic than this warrior king, maybe I’ll be able to keep myself warm with a memory of one evening together. Every time I see this man, my heart gallops like an untamed stallion and I can’t find it in me to simply ignore that. I’m rarely selfish, but tonight I will be.
To a point.
I have to keep my virginity intact.
A woman must be a widow or an untouched maiden to take part in the auction. The rules are what they are and I have to abide by them to gain a husband. To keep the farm.
When we reach Corbet’s tent, I can’t help but marvel.
It’s four times the size of the one I’m sharing with my sisters and outfitted with the finest rugs and furs. Lanterns flicker in the waning light, casting a wavering glow against the walls of the tent. A pallet bed, fit for a king, has been arranged in the corner of the tent and it looks more comfortable than my own bed at home, thick with linens and furs.
It’s a seductive ambiance, intimate and dreamy, so I feel the need to remind myself of my ultimate goal at the Joining. Just so I keep my head and don’t lose myself to the romantic atmosphere surrounding us.
“I, um…I saw that my sisters were sitting near you. Your ears must have been ringing after a while. They tend to chatter.”
“I didn’t mind the chatter.” He pauses in the act of circling the tent, seeming puzzled by his own thoughts. “Actually, I kind of enjoyed listening to them. The older one is kind of a miniature mother to the little one. And that tiny thing, well she just swings wildly between emotions, doesn’t she? One minute, she’s about to cry and then she’s laughing like a loon.” He shakes his head. “Are all children like this?”
“No. Viola and Sadie are special. But I suspect everyone thinks that about the children in their family.” A smile threatens the corners of my lips. “You were really paying attention.”
He seems almost embarrassed to be caught giving a damn. “Well. They were a good distraction, anyway.”
“From what?”
“Wanting to beat the living shit out of whoever invented that competition.”
I can’t contain a giggle. “I’m not too fond of it myself.”
“Then consider it gone,” he says, looking me in the eye. “I’m ending it for good, starting at the next Joining.”
Is there something caught in my throat? I can’t seem to swallow properly. And it’s not just his actions, it’s his passion and directness. This man…I really like him. He’s a king of conviction. A lion among sheep. When I first met him, I thought he was all roar, no bite, but that notion was quickly flattened, building my confidence in him right on top of it. “You would really just eliminate the auction events? They’re tradition.”
“I’d like to eliminate the whole auction, but…” He rubs at the back of his neck, starting to pace again. “These women who are in trouble. I worry what they would do without the chance to strengthen their family through marriage.”
“Women like me.”
He heaves a frustrated sigh that seems to come straight from his soul. “Let me take care of you, Gwen.” His blue-gray eyes burn into mine. “You and your sisters will never want for anything.”
He’s wrong. We’ll want for respectability.
A stable commitment, written in ink.
But I’ve already expressed this to Corbet and I’m not going to do it again. It’s pointless.
Besides…my heart is involved now. It’s starting to really hurt that this man will let me go instead of offering me marriage. If I open my mouth, I’m afraid my feelings will pour out and I’ll be exposed in a way I usually avoid at all costs.
My silence draws Corbet forward and my pulse starts to rap steadily in my veins, anticipating his touch, but instead of pleasure when he places a hand on my shoulder, pain lances down my spine. “Oh. Ouch.”