And if his mother didn’t have enough to do—something she’d never suffered from in her life—then she would either find something to do or ride back to the Arbor and be with them.

They did not need to leave the Arbor to be with her.

Something was amiss, and Mars did not have a good feeling about it.

His head came up before she appeared in the doorway.

When the maid saw she had his attention, she blathered, “Sir, Your Grace, uh, sir, you have a visitor.”

Mars fought back a sigh when she offered no further information, before he prompted, “And that visitor would be?”

“Lady Vanka.”

Silence’s mother?

Why was the maid announcing a visit from Silence’s mother to him?

Mars felt his brows draw together. “My wife is reading in the drawing room.”

“Lady Vanka is here for you, um…sir, and she’s asked that, well, erm…uh, her, uh, your wife, that is—”

For fuck’s sake.

“Her Grace,” Mars bit. “She is queen, even if she is not your queen. As I am king. We are ‘Your Grace’ if you’re speaking to us, and she is ‘Her Grace’ if you are referring to her. Or ‘the queen,’ ‘Her Highness,’ or ‘Her Majesty.’ You know this, therefore your hesitancy in speaking is inexplicable. And I’ll take this opportunity to note that from this point on, anything else will not be considered impertinence. It’ll be considered insubordination and your time in our service will be terminated. Is this understood?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she whispered.

“Now finish what Lady Vanka wished you to say.”

“She wants to speak to you without Her Grace knowing she’s here until after she speaks with you.”

Mars tipped his head to the side and demanded, “Was that that difficult?”

“No, Your Grace,” she murmured.

“Bring the lady to me,” he ordered.

“Yes, Your Grace.” She dipped a curtsy and disappeared out the door.

It was the second time in five minutes he did not have good feelings, this about Vanka seeking him, and only him.

Fortunately, his wife was now his wife.

She, as had he, had much enjoyed making up for lost time in their bed.

Therefore, he was in a very good mood.

Further lighting his mood, over the past days, Silence had grown open and honest and curious, and if not consistently talkative (which was not her way), the bonds they’d been forming since nearly the moment they met (in his consideration) were fortifying.

Rapidly.

He was falling in love with her.

And she him.

For his part, this was a surprise. He would not have foreseen falling in love with a wee, quiet, pale, reflective Dellish woman, no matter she was a great beauty.

She was still wee, quiet, pale, reflective.

And Dellish.