The morning hours passed in a blur. Gwen remembered waking in Greylen’s arms and felt the warmth of another behind her. “I’m gonna be sick.” She moaned.

“Fetch a basin, Gavin,” Greylen said as he sat her up.

“Just take me to the bathroom, Greylen—quick.” As Greylen carried her, she saw his men on the floor, and also that Gavin had been the warmth behind her in their bed. If she hadn’t felt so terrible, she would’ve told them what their presence meant to her.

Greylen held her hair back as she threw up, refusing to get his mother. “You’re my wife, Gwen, I’ll see to you.”

Dignity be damned, it was the sweetest care she’d ever received.

He tried repeatedly to take her back to bed, but she insisted on resting on the cool, stone floor. He sat beside her the entire time, rubbing her back and helping her each time her stomach turned. At some point she heard a knock on the door. “I’ve had Anna prepare a bath within. We’ll remain in your bedchamber.”

“Aye, Gavin,” her husband replied.

When her nausea passed, Greylen took her into the tub. He washed her body and then dressed her as she sat on his lap in the chair. He chose only her most favorite things. A simple band of material that he tied around her chest, a pair of underwear that he’d placed thick cloths in, and one of his shirts. He brushed her hair before tying it back, and finally, he secured his medallion behind her neck.

“Thanks,” she whispered, leaning against him.

“I’m sorry, Gwen.”

“It’s not your fault, Greylen.”

“Aye, ’tis.”

They stayed in the chair for quite some time. She dozed on and off as Greylen rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. Then he carried her back into their chamber. Pallets still remained on the floor, and Gavin sat on their bed, which had been straightened and turned down again. He drank from a cup and ate from a plate of foods that sat atop the table next to her letterbox. The rest of the men were gathered around the fire, eating food she was sure Anna brought up while she disgraced herself in front of her husband.

Gavin adjusted the towel beneath her as Greylen laid her down. Then he went back to the papers he studied, leaning against the pillows.

“My first sleepover with seven men and I can’t remember a thing,” she joked weakly. They all looked at her, cautious smiles mixed with anguish, and her eyes filled with tears.