She trudged back to the great hall and stood by the fire, smothering the yawn that overtook her. She was weary to her bones and it was God’s truth she hadn’t done much this day.

Malaise had gripped her for days and at first she’d worried she was taking ill, but she suffered no malady other than fatigue. ’Twas the truth her husband interfered with her sleep with his insatiable demands. Demands she met with many of her own.

She woke every single morning before dawn to him deep inside her, possessing her with ruthless determination. Always he left her with a gentle kiss after taking her roughly, and then he’d leave her to sleep when he departed the chamber.

They began the night with loving and they ended it thus.

She yawned again and wondered if she shouldn’t take to her bed a little earlier this night in preparation for the vigorous bout of loving she knew they’d indulge in. How Caelen met the daily demands of training and survived on so little sleep she’d never know.

She stuck out her hands to the fire to ward off the chill that had set in deep and stared into the flames as her eyes grew heavier and heavier. ’Twas unlike her to be so listless.

She shook herself out of her fog when Gannon strode into the hall.

“My lady, Caelen is ready for your lesson. He says if you’re wanting to practice, you’re to hasten. He’s only set aside an hour’s time for you today while the men are breaking.”

Rionna frowned. “Does he never plan to take a break?”

Gannon looked at her oddly as if ’twas a ridiculous question, and she supposed it was. Caelen was inhuman in his stamina.

“Let me fetch my sword,” she said.

“I’ll fetch it for you, my lady. You go to Caelen.”

Rionna murmured her thanks and then hurried toward the door. She stepped into the snow and grimaced. Caelen would lecture her about forgetting her cloak but ’twas much easier to spar without it.

He waited for her on the outer perimeter of the training area where they practiced every day. Rionna had never been tempted to beg off, but today she’d give most anything to crawl into her bed and stay there the rest of the afternoon.

She refused to say a single word to Caelen. She’d fought too hard to get him to agree to let her continue practicing with the sword. She’d give him no reason to forbid her from it again.

“Where is your sword?” he asked impatiently.

His mood was black. He’d be unrelenting today. She wanted to groan but bit her lip.

“Gannon is fetching it.”

Caelen cast an impatient glance over his shoulder and then turned back to her.