“I must admit,” he muttered, “I do not like your Dellish clothes.”

Well!

My Dellish gowns were lovely.

And they were warm.

I couldn’t very well wear silk and sheers in a Dellish autumn clime, for goodness sake.

“But I do very much like this nightgown, my new wife,” he finished, running his hand along the material at the slit before moving it back to claim my thigh.

I was burning it on the morrow.

After a spell, Mars seemed to relax under me.

I did not do the same even when his fingers at my neck started to stroke its side.

Eventually, he advised, “You need to ease, my Silence.”

“Can I roll off?”

“No.”

I tensed further.

He started to stroke my thigh.

That did not help.

“What did I tell you?” he whispered, his voice gentle.

Which thing he told me was he referring to?

“What did you tell me?” I asked.

“You do not run from me,” he answered, and at that, I blinked at his neck. “You’ve been avoiding me in a manner that is the same as running, my queen, and I’ll not have it. You do what I do not like, there will be consequences. These are your consequences. You’ll sleep right here.” He gripped my thigh again. “Tonight. And every night. Until you give yourself back to me, and after, you will likely fall asleep right here regardless, but due to me exhausting you. But for now, ease, Silence. And sleep.”

He had indeed warned me never to run from him.

I just did not know the kind of consequences I would face if I did.

Now I knew.

I tried to force myself to ease.

It was difficult.

Mars did not fall asleep under me before I found slumber.

But eventually, my body demanded what my mind wished to refuse it.

And I fell asleep atop my king.

46

The Gale

Princess Elena

Fifty Miles Inside the Southern Border

WODELL

I was pacing my tent, waiting.

He would come.

He always came.

Because I was staying up, it was getting later and later when he would arrive.

But he always did.

The last two nights, it had gotten so late, I’d given up and gone to bed, only to wake when his weight shifted the pallet beneath me as he joined me on it.

He did not touch me or hold me in his arms as he had that first night he’d slept with me.

But he slept with me.

Every night since that first.

He just didn’t touch me.

Or speak to me.

Prince Cassius, my future husband and I were not getting along.

Granted, I started it. I was big enough to admit that.

And apologized for it (of a sort).