The Apprehension (Unexpected Circumstances 6)

“I thought you would no longer wish to indulge in such behavior in the morning,” I replied. “Our child should be born within the month. Are you not wasting your seed on me?”

“Never a waste with you.” Branford’s hair brushed over my back as he shook his head. I felt his hand creep around my neck and he turned my head to face him. “Is it uncomfortable for you?”

“No,” I whispered as I felt my cheeks heat with my blush. “Not when we lie like this. When I am on my back, though, your child has a habit of kicking my ribs.”

“He is strong,” Branford said with a smile and then returned to his favorite subject. “As long as you do not complain, I will continue to want you all the time. Besides, I do not want to become unskilled. Once you give birth to my son, we will have to start working on a daughter.”

He moved his hand from my stomach to my breast—heavy and full as it also awaited the birth of our child.

“You must tell me if you wish me to stop,” Branford said, reminding me as his thumb brushed my nipple. It was so sensitive, even the smallest of touches made me shiver. “I can see how much harder it is for you to move around, and you know if you do not spell something out to me, I am not going to notice it on my own.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Good.” Branford kissed the edge of my jaw and then up into my hair. I giggled as his rough cheek tickled the back of my neck, but eventually I had to push him away so we could dress. We were to visit Sawyer on this day and needed to leave before the morning hour grew too late. Branford himself had to go to choose a dozen warhorses for his new cavalry recruits, which meant that I had to accompany him since I was still never outside of his presence.

Both Branford and Michael had to assist me into the carriage when we were finally ready to leave. I could barely successfully climb the narrow steps when I was not heavy with child, and now it was nearly impossible. Once I was settled into my seat, and Branford was reassured I was comfortable enough for him to stop fussing over me, our accompaniment of guards surrounded the carriage, and we were off.

Though Edgar and Hadebrand had been strangely silent since the wretched tea was revealed by Nelle, Branford had never become complacent when it came to my protection. He was even more adamant as my belly grew. True to his word, I had barely been out of his sight since that day, and I could have counted on one hand the times I was not at his side. I had learned much about the kingdoms during that time, probably much more than Branford had planned on sharing with me.

Sir Leland had gone into hiding once he discovered that his heritage would only protect him so far. Branford and I made regular treks to Seacrest to discuss the relationship between Seacrest and Silverhelm with King Liam and to talk about the further protection Sir Rylan offered with his troops along our borders. Branford still hoped to catch sight of Sir Leland so he could execute his own justice over him.

I had to admit to myself that Sir Leland’s part in the plot against us was not as great as Janet’s or Branford’s cousins, but I would not turn away if Branford were to cut him down. After feeling that sense of satisfaction at seeing Lady Kimberly’s head displayed on the castle wall, I had to admit I was a far more bloodthirsty queen than I ever would have imagined.

Branford worried my new attitude would change me for the worse, but I did not think so. I still made my rounds to the refugees who came to our castle gates, and I still cared for Branford as best I could as his child—his son, he still insisted—wore my body down.

After an hour, I found myself tired out just from sitting and was mildly annoyed with Branford for waking me early with his lustful desires when we had such a long day ahead of us. It was too warm in the carriage as well, and though I fanned myself continuously, there was to be no relief from the heat of near-summer.

“Why don’t you try to rest?” Branford said.

“Do you not think I would rest if I could?” I snapped at him before I realized the words were forming on my tongue. “You are the reason I am so tired in the first place!”

“Alexandra!” Branford stared at me in shock. “Whatever is wrong with you?”

I tensed, realizing what I had just said to my husband and king and the way in which I said it.

“Branford…I…” I let my voice trail off, unsure what I could even say. I half expected him to cuff me for such insolence though he had never done such a thing. I glanced up and saw him looking at me sideways, his expression one of both anger and confusion. Our child chose that moment to kick out at my already bruised ribs and cause me to wince.

Branford moved slightly closer to me and tentatively ran his hand over my stomach.

“Shh, little one,” he said quietly. “It is all right.”

One of the babe’s feet pushed again at my stomach, this time against Branford’s hand. I watched my husband’s half-grin as he rubbed his thumb over the spot where the child had kicked.

“So strong,” Branford said. He looked back up at my face and followed the movement of his hand with his eyes. He caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger and then turned me toward him, his voice still soft. “You must be so tired of carrying him. I know he has made it hard for you to sleep, and the heat of the day is uncomfortable for you.”

“I am so sorry, my king,” I whispered, but he hushed me with his lips.

“As soon as we reach Sawyer Castle, I will make sure you are taken to the lower levels, where it is cooler. You will be more comfortable there and may even be able to nap while I gather the horses.”

I could only nod in response, glad Branford seemed to understand my reaction better than I did myself. It occurred to me that he had spoken with Sunniva only a fortnight ago when I had been unable to stop crying after dropping that cup of cider.

Though it was too warm for such closeness, I lay my head on Branford’s shoulder as he fanned my face. At least I could close my eyes for a time though I was not able to doze. The road was simply too rocky, and the carriage bumped along too much. I wondered if we could possibly put some of the refugees to work smoothing out the road between Silverhelm and Sawyer and was about to mention it to Branford when the carriage came to an abrupt stop.

Branford lay his hand against my cheek as he encouraged to me to sit up so he could check on the trouble outside. As he moved toward the carriage door, two of the guards rode up to the side of the carriage, and Branford peered out at them.

“My king—the road is blocked.”

“By whom?”