* * *
His quarters had been transformed.
First, bright vases of flowers were everywhere in the parlor, and several of his books had been removed from their shelves to make room for small portraits of the Fortuin family: King Markus and Queen Katarina, as well as several aunts and uncles and cousins. (Interesting, since the princess had never spoken of them in any way that could be described as loving or familial. And it didn’t escape his notice that Princess Johanne had chosen the most unflattering portraits.)
As for where his books had gone, Rune could only guess.
But the worst was what had replaced his dining table. There stood a small stone fountain, a carved crown in the center, decorated with precious gems. An array of light globes reflected off the water and the jewels, making him squint. Did it have to be so bright?
“Do you like it?” Princess Johanne dipped her fingers into the basin. “I had it brought from home.”
Well, he hadn’t thought a monstrosity like that had been sitting anywhere in Honor’s Keep. It was garish. “Where will we eat?” he asked instead. “Since we no longer have a table.”
“In the dining room with everyone else!” She flashed a hard smile, as if he were the town fool. “Would you like to see my room?”
Rune was somewhat terrified to see what had become of the previously neutral and inoffensive space, a plain chamber he had always used for quiet reading, but he followed her in. Her bedroom was much like his in that it had all the normal bedroom furniture, as well as a balcony door and a door that led into his room…but that was where the similarities ended.
The curtains, bed canopy, and sheets were bright strawberry silk, and the floor was covered in a thick, luxuriant teal rug. A trio of wardrobes—all painted to match the bed canopy—stood guard along one wall. A large painting of Princess Johanne hung over the fireplace; in it, she wore the obsidian crown, along with a rich mint-green gown that dipped low in the front, and an elaborate pendant of obsidian, sapphire, and emerald. She was stunning.
She was stunning in real life. The painter had made no “improvements” to the princess, because there were none to be made.
Just now, she was placing the obsidian crown on her vanity. She glanced over at him, then up at the painting. “Would you like me to wear that gown for you?”
“Now?” He almost choked on the word.
“If you’d like. You are my husband, and I want to please you.” A coy smile turned up the corners of her mouth. She pulled a pin from her hair, letting the golden curls tumble down her back. With just a few steps, she closed the distance between them.
“I—” Rune tugged at his collar; the room was too warm, and he was having difficulty breathing. “You don’t have to,” he said at last. “You look wonderful as you are.”
“That’s sweet.” When she was gazing up at him as she did now, it was difficult to remember any of his reservations about her. And then, when she traced her fingers down his arm and stepped directly in front of him, his attention was captured completely.
“Your Highness,” he murmured.
“Hanne.” She stepped closer until the hem of her gown brushed across the toes of his boots. “Please call me Hanne. I prefer it.”
“Hanne,” he repeated, a little hoarsely.
Again, those lips tilted into a smile, and she reached up to touch his cheek. “Do you think we should…” Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
Until a few minutes ago, Rune had been dreading this. He’d thought it would be an impossible topic to approach, especially given her recent hardships, but here she was, her fingertips trailing down the side of his neck, her breath shallow—from anticipation?
“It is expected of us,” he finally managed to say, wishing more than anything he knew what to do with his hands. Touch her? Take her waist and draw her closer? She hadn’t invited him. But she was touching him, so did that count?
“Do you want to?”
Well, his body certainly wanted to, but he didn’t love her—or even like her, most of the time—and the idea of taking her to bed made a strange pit grow in his stomach. It seemed unfair.
And then there was the Nightrender. There was nothing between them—nothing—and he was married to Hanne, so why the guilt?
“Rune?” Hanne’s fingertips had drifted down the side of his ribs. “Our kingdoms are counting on us.”
“You’re right.” And abruptly, it didn’t matter if he wanted to or not. (Even though he mostly did.) This was their duty. The alliance. Their kingdoms. Indeed, all of Salvation required an heir. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
“So romantic,” Hanne murmured. “Perhaps let me be in charge.”
* * *
As soon as it was over, Hanne was up and moving around the room, pulling on clothes, talking about her cousin. Rune couldn’t believe she had the energy.
He watched as she ran a comb through her hair. Even in the dim lamplight, the gold glowed brightly against the dress she’d put on—violet with a silver mesh of reeled silk layered atop the bodice. “I’m going to visit Nadine.”
“You are?” Rune sat up. “But it’s our wedding night.”
Hanne lowered her comb and looked at him. “Yes, and now I want to see my cousin. It’s been a difficult day.”
“Difficult because of…” He motioned around the bed. He’d thought it had gone rather well.
Hanne frowned and grabbed a jeweled clip from her nightstand. “Rune, beloved, I shouldn’t have to remind you that people died today.”
Oh. Right. He was being insensitive. Of course Hanne had strong feelings about raw malice set loose in the world. Less than a day married and he was already failing her. “We could talk about it,” Rune suggested. “If you want.”
She finished binding her hair into a low bun. “No, we talked enough at the meeting earlier. I want to be with my cousin now. She’s really more like my sister. You understand.”
“I see. Then I’ll walk you there.” Rune started to get up and get dressed, but his wife held up a hand.
“I’ll go on with a guard, and you should go to bed. I’m sure you have a lot to do in the morning.”
That was true. Troops were being readied, scouts were searching other towns for more devices that might detonate within Caberwill’s borders, and regardless, Rune needed to corner his father and make another case for the Soul Gate.
Opus had said he would reach a decision by morning.
Yes, it would be best if Rune went right to sleep—and not obsess about the unfairness of being married to someone he didn’t care for when he was daydreaming about someone he could never have.