Chammielle felt better than she had in a long time, but also felt a slight strain in her neck. Perhaps her pillow was not the right fullness. She wanted to remove it but also to remain relaxed so she would not stress it or wake up any further. Her sleep was simply too delicious and she slipped back into it with ease.

A short dream played, of gardens and picnics. And Will hung down from a tree and kissed her forehead. It was a warm kiss, the kind that sent shocks all the way down to your toes.

She sighed and realized she must be waking up. The warmth was still sending lovely electricity down the length of her body and she didn't want it to end. And then she heard a deep chuckle above her.

Her eyes drifted open and she saw Will pulling his face back from her forehead. He'd kissed her. It wasn't the dream.

His dark steel eyes seemed lighter in the morning, not as sharp. His lips were a red that seemed enticing and delectable. Her fingers reached up to play with them.

He smiled even as her finger left an indentation in his lower lip.

"Good morning."

His voice was so deep. Had it always sounded this way?

She sighed and closed her eyes again. Pulling herself into the warmth of the covers and finding its source. Her arms wrapped about his waist.

And then her eyes shot open.

"Will..."

"Mhm?"

"Are you...naked?"

He chuckled and she tried to untangle herself from him. But he grasped her struggling shoulders and pulled her to him instead.

"I'm not wearing a sleep shirt. I cannot abide by them. They're loose and tangle about my throat and I can't breathe properly."

"But! You!"

He released her and she sat up, turning her face away from him.

"Please put something on."

His laughter was throaty with morning grog. His arms shot about her waist once more and pulled her into him. She shrieked.

"Will!"

"I am wearing something. My nakedness is only from the waist up."

Curiosity apprehending her sensibilities, she turned her head to look at him.

The blankets had fallen back and she saw his abdominal muscles, taut and defined. His back and shoulders bulged with strength, and he twisted to have his lean arms grip her. The man was all sinew and little softness.

"And what do you think of your husband?"

She glanced down at his face peering up at her from just below her ribcage at her right side. He had that impossible half grin and teasing dimple on display, and his eyes had regained some of their waking levity and sharpness.

"I think he's being silly and we ought to get up and be dressed for the day."

His face turned down and for a moment she thought he would let her go. Instead, he turned his mouth to the side and nibbled at her waist.

"Will!"

He chuckled and pulled at her so that she was flung across him and he still had a grip about her waist.

"An unfortunate side effect to matrimony it seems. My appetite has increased and even canabalism sounds appealing at the moment."

She flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow! What was that?"

"A reminder: we're supposed to be at a feast. Today, remember?"

He laughed and buried his face in her chemise once more. Shifting so that he was no longer under her but beside her.

"Will..."

"Not for several hours. In fact, sometimes the newlywed couple do not attend at all until the last day. It's said that they are ensuring the prosperity of Garten if they're not seen at banquet. I think we ought to at least let them think we are doing what we're supposed to be doing."

Her face felt like a garden beet and she buried it under her hands as her head fell to the pillow.

"Ugh..."

"We're married, Chammielle. There's no shame in it. And we are the crown prince and princess of the country. Really, everyone is cheering us on."

She was not ready for this. She hadn't wanted to be married, and now she was. Though William was an absolute tease, he was being very patient with her. But he didn't know why she needed him to be.

"You mean because at some point we need to produce an heir..."

He was silent and still and she peered between her fingers at him.

His face hovered above hers, his mouth soft but serious, and his eyes matched. His fingers came up and brushed her hands away and he lowered a tender kiss to her cheek.

"Not until you want to."

Hearing those words helped her. She sighed and put her arms around his neck.

"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me."

He held her and stroked her hair. It was the most at peace she'd felt since she was a little girl. But it had another quality to it. More than companionship, or feeling safe, it was just warm. It was this intangible notion that things were right being here in this moment. That she had someone who would hold her like this whenever she needed it.

They stayed that way for a while before he released her and simply lay at her side, holding her hand between them.

"Are you hungry?"

She nodded and he sat up, planting another kiss on her cheek before standing from the bed.

He was very fit.

"Will...how often do you practice your swordsmanship?"

He was pulling on a loose shirt and halted. He let it drape back down his arms and looked back at her, his form bathed in the golden glow of the morning streaming in from the windows, a dark curl lay by his nose. Artists ought to capture such a moment.

"Up until last year it was two hours a day...now a few hours every week. Why?"

She averted her eyes a moment as she thought of a plausible excuse.

"Your shoulders, they seem tense. Do you not have a massage once in a while? You work too hard."

A smirk played on his lips and he looked to the floor a moment before nodding to himself.

The shirt dropped to the carpet and he turned back towards the bed. He strode up to the end of it and began crawling towards her. Chammielle's breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded in her ears.

He held himself over her, her body all but pinned by the blankets his knees and hands held in place. His hair draped down around his face as it hovered over her own. She could not look away as his chest heaved and his breath sounded ragged.

"Is that all you have to say about my body, my wife?"

She couldn't form words.

Her mind was frozen so that she'd have to have it thawed over the course of an hour before it could function properly again. Her heart was erratic and it pumped so much blood she was sure she would feel it running from her ears where it was the loudest at any moment. Her lips parted but only air passed through them.

He lifted one hand, taking two fingers he traced patterns across her skin at the nape of her neck down to her collar. Ripples of tingling passed over her skin and she shivered.

"I find your body exquisite though I've only seen it in part. You're marked with stars and my imagination maps them hoping to discover some new constellation. I've been curious about them from the moment I met you. And now, here, in our bed together, I realize there is very little between us to prevent me from exploring and making such new discoveries as my innermost desires beg me to do."

She didn't dare move. His fingertips dotting each freckle with care and tracing the space between them slowly and deliberately. They dipped below her collarbone and her breathing felt heavier. He seemed to run out of freckles and hooked one finger at the ribbon tie keeping her chemise's neckline from loosening.

She stopped breathing all together and it seemed an eternity before he slid his finger out again.

He sighed and set his forehead to her shoulder.

"I'll go call for someone to bring us some food."

He got up once more and dressed quickly and with precision.

And then he was out the door.

...

"Oh good God, man! What on earth are you doing here?"

William raised a brow at his cousin, whose hand clutched at his breast as he gaped at him. Clearly he'd given him a start.

"This is my office. What are you doing coming in here when you think I'm not here?"

Alfric closed the door behind him and moved over behind the desk where he was. His hand splayed and pushed down on the papers Will had been working on, and he leaned against the edge.

"This is my habit to come here because you're always here. But you're a married man as of yesterday. So what do you mean by being here so early in the morning?"

He glanced at the clock and smirked at the purple frocked man.

"It's nearly ten."

"Exactly! You should be in bed with your wife, having a late morning tea and lavishing kisses on her. So why do I find you here? Reading the business and trade laws you had mocked up only yesterday?"

"I have to see that things are in order. I can't very well put my seal on such things without reading them."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

Will sighed and Alfric leaned in closer, whispering as if someone were listening.

"Was...was it not everything you hoped it would be?"

He shoved him away and let his jaw be propped up by his hand as his elbow found the edge of the counter.

"We've only just been wed. I know what's expected of us, but we hardly know each other. Up until yesterday, she thought I was going to marry her sister. We're taking our time, and no one can know about it."

Alfric began to clap and he pinned a look of mild distress upon his best friend.

"Valiant notion, really. And I'm not mocking it, I swear."

"Then why does it feel like you are?"

"Because you are chiding yourself right now for your own resolve. You have the woman of your dreams lying in your bed, and all you can do right now is wait it out in your office. You can't even work your energy out swinging a sword without tipping off the whole palace that you have a little extra steam you could not work out with your bride."

He couldn't take it.

William let his head fall with a loud thunk to the top of his desk. His cousin was right. He was in a sorry state.

"Oh the joys of being a gentleman. Mind you, this would be worse if you'd trifled with a loose woman before all of this. My uncle was that way, crass fellow. When he did marry, she wanted nothing to do with him and he became a whoremonger. Died of some venereal disease the doctors could not cure."

"While your morals are encouraging, my predicament is not helped, Alfric."

He felt him pat his back.

"There there."

He snorted at his miserable state. It was far worse this way. At least before his mind was focused on something else. Now his cousin had to come in and disturb his well constructed ruse he'd been operating under.

"Am I the only one who knows? I feel like you could use it to speak with someone else."

He shook his head at that.

"I'm clearly of no use to you here. Perhaps there is someone else you can trust to be discreet?"

He considered it and realized the person he needed was not far off.

"Alfric, what I'm about to tell you is never to be spoken to anyone under any circumstances. There is someone. A family member you don't know about. I want you to call them here and ensure no one sees you."

...

Chammielle sat upon the couch wearing a loose bodice and skirt. Food had been brought and she'd answered the door in her chemise barely opening the door. She couldn't let anyone see inside. Now an hour later, she was dressed but could not leave without giving away that Will was not here.

He had climbed onto the bed, crawled on top of her on all fours like some sort of great cat stalking its prey. His eyes and his chest, and the way he'd held his body over her this morning had her feeling flushed all over again.

She'd been about to bite into a miniature quiche, but it fell to the plate unbroken.

She was flustered.

What did he mean by doing that and then just leaving?

His talk about her freckles being stars...had he always believed that? He'd said so. And the way he had traipsed from one to another scoping each one out so closely had her believing he wanted to be her personal astronomer. It sent a heat into her ears.

"Will...you didn't tell me you like me this much. My heart cannot bear it..."

She paced the room.

There was no stationary in the room. No ink, no quill, nor a writing desk. She couldn't pen down anything to distract herself. And there were no books to occupy her time with.

Finally, she sat down again and forced herself to eat.

It had been three days since her swordsmanship training. Then the ball, then the wedding. Her muscles were still sore and more than that she felt exhausted. With nothing better to do, and all the food that the maid had brought gone, she finally decided on a nap.

Still dressed, she lay atop the blankets and draped her arm across her eyes. She'd catch up on her sleep. But her dreams made it hard for her to find rest.