“I had meant to prove that point after your earlier declaration,” he explained. “Sadly, it did not work. But thankfully, it led to you actually speaking to me and sharing with me what is weighing on your mind so I could do something about it.”

“I am most gladdened we’ve worked that out,” I said in a way it could not be misconstrued I was not, which did not anger my husband.

He looked vastly amused.

I ignored this.

“Now, if you’d get off me, I could rest my eyes for a spell before I bid farewell to my two friends.”

“I will not roll off for we have other things to work out.”

I aimed my eyes upward and mumbled, “Marvelous.”

“Silence,” he called, his deep voice trembling with laughter.

Laughter!

I aimed my eyes to glare at him again.

His hand at my cheek (still!) shifted so he could stroke the skin under my glaring eye (which felt so nice, it was difficult to keep glaring, but I managed it) as he asked, “Why were you running from me this time?”

“I was not running from you.”

His thumb stopped stroking and he explained, “A husband and wife leave a breakfast table together with both their destinations the same, they stroll there…together. Not with the wife scurrying before her husband like a mouse scampering to elude a cat.”

“I didn’t scurry,” I told him.

“You scurried,” he replied through a brazen smile.

I had scurried.

How humiliating.

“It heartens me greatly you find this so amusing, my king.”

At my tone, his smile died.

“Silence—”

“You wish me to talk. Fine. I do not like this discord between you and my father.”

His face started to grow hard. “Silence—”

“But you will do as you please, I have no control, no say in anything, for example such matters as where we journey from here when everyone is scattering in all directions.”

“I did ask if you approved of our plans,” he reminded me.

“After sparring with my father and essentially determining said plans,” I returned.

“If you do not wish to return to the Arbor, we will not go.”

I did wish to return to the Arbor.

I also wished to see his saffron fields.

But the Arbor was closer than the fields and all this riding around on horses and sleeping in tents, although not fatiguing, and in the beginning most interesting, had lost its appeal and was no longer enjoyable. Further, I might not have any friends there, but Tril did and she’d be happy for a spell at home.

“I have no issue with returning to the Arbor,” I shared.

“Then I do not understand your pique.”

He wouldn’t.

“Silence, you must explain it to me so I understand it,” he instructed with apparently strained patience.

“It is not about the Arbor.”

“Then share what it is about.”

“I’d rather not.”