William was looking at his bride lying next to him. It was only first light but it was all he needed.

The smoothe lines of her face with hundreds of galaxies scattered across it, were highlighted by the faint light. Her nose tipped up and came to a fine round point, but there was a small divot in the cartilage you couldn't see because of the concentration of freckles covering it. It was like a small nebula. Her cheeks flowed smoothly into her eyelids without a break, more of a change in direction. But her lashes swept over it all like thick bristles, pointed and full and matching the red in her hair. The point of her chin looked the softest. Stray pieces of hair had moved and clung to the corner of her mouth as she slept and he slowly moved it away. His finger trailed to her chin and pressed at the indentation lightly.

She pouted her lips in her sleep.

It wasn't like when Tulip was born and he'd go and check on her at night, worried someone might try and take her and he'd need to fight them. No, this was something else. Soothing, for his mind and soul. She was here, with him, in their bed. The woman made of fire.

He thought of all the times he'd seen her blush, seen her send those flaming orbs to stare him down, those lips part to send him a swift warning. Even the kicks to his shins. All of it, he wanted to see it again.

But then his thoughts traveled to the night Aster was shot.

She had looked ablaze. Setting off with three men, one a knight and two unscrupulous, to go and exact her revenge. He'd been left behind in her wake. Only able to stand and stare after her as her world was going up in smoke. And her willing to burn the culprit's down.

Now, she looked so peaceful.

You would be fine without me...but I'm glad I can be by your side.

He kissed her hair and got up. The sunlight beginning to come up over the horizon. He pulled on a shirt and his breeches over his under things. Today was the day he needed to send out a fresh guard to Kuchen. Let the people there see that the Crown would remember them and keep them safe. It was a bit of paperwork and he'd need an ice bath before he came back.

He needed to hurry.

...

Chammielle drifted from sleep as if she were not waking up but simply floating out of it. Such peace was rare and she reached for William beside her.

"Will..."

"You're awake."

She turned her head and saw him at the door, a tray in his hands.

He looked refreshed, his hair damp and his curls weighted down. His cheeks and nose were pink and his eyes bright. He gripped the gilt tray lightly and pressed the door closed with his back.

"And here I was hoping to wake you."

She sat up and he sat at the edge of the bed, laying the tray between them.

Two teacups and saucers, a teapot, a plate of jammy scones, strawberries, and a small pitcher of cream and pot of sugar. And with it, a slender crystal vase holding a single pale pink carnation. It was a lovely sight to see. Especially its mode of transportation.

He poured the tea and she could smell the roses and black tea leaves. It had a malty and bright scent. Her eyes closed and she smiled.

"Three Twinning's Lady Rose tea. The second picking."

He shook his head and she felt the cool mist spritz her face.

"How did you know?"

"My father and I visit tea shops once a month. I'm quite sure there isn't a tea sold in Kuchen I haven't tried."

She took the cup and sipped it, enjoying the flavor. It was strong though, and Will offered her some cream.

"Do you take sugar?"

"Not usually..."

He smirked at her and leaned over the tray to catch her lips in a quick kiss.

"And here I thought you liked everything sweet."

He moved away and her hand came up and caught him by his wet hair. She pulled him back and kissed him fully. Her lips parting and nibbling on his.

His lips parted and she felt his tongue. Warm and teasing. They hadn't kissed like this before. A surprised gasp escaped her and he pulled back.

"I'm sorry...was that too much?"

"No."

She pulled him back in and let her other hand wrap around his neck. It felt so good, and she let her own tongue dart into his mouth and brush against the roof of his.

He moaned, and it set a deeper tone to the kiss.

She got up on her knees and went around the tray. As wonderful as hot tea was, this seemed far more appetizing at the moment. It was new, and uncharted for her. She felt his hands smoothe over the fabric at her sides, traveling to her hips as their tongues clashed.

"Wait..."

He pulled back and his breath was ragged. Her brows pinched together. Unsure why he was stopping.

"What's wrong?"

She pulled at a knot in his hair she'd made with her fingertips and his eyes rolled back into his head.

"I...I don't know."

He kissed her deeply and it was her turn to moan. One hand came up the middle of her back and his fingers slid into her hair from her neck. He pulled her in, stronger. It was suffocating and exhilarating and she wanted more.

Her legs felt weak and his free hand pulled at her knee so that she was pressed into him.

And then he stopped.

"Chammielle..."

Her head was in a daze and she didn't want this to end.

"What?"

He bit his cheek and closed his eyes, lowering his forehead to her collarbone.

That's when she realized the position they were in.

She was straddling him, her chemise riding up past her knees. He was sitting on the edge of the bed and she was wrapped around him with her back facing the open air and only his arm holding her up from falling. And above all that, they were both panting like dogs in the heat of summer. Their hearts beat erratically between them and she realized what this lead to.

"Oh...oh!"

He groaned and she tried to disentangle them.

"No, stop. Give me a moment and I'll let you go."

She took a deep breath and felt embarrassed.

"Will, I'm sorry...I just..."

He chuckled throatily and it echoed through her ribcage.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. This is exactly the kind of thing I've been wanting. But I suppose neither of us are really ready for this."

She nodded, unsure if she believed that anymore.

"Right..."

He sighed and gripped her waist, hoisting her up and onto her feet with ease.

"Let's try and take this a bit slower, shall we? It might be better for my heart."

He seemed to be joking, but his red lips and flushed face said he was feeling the effects of their passionate kissing. Her fingers went to her own lips, feeling their puffiness.

He picked up the tray and walked to the couch, setting it in the middle and sitting to one side of it. Then he pat the seat opposite. Chammielle smirked at him.

"I suppose we ought to let our passions cool a while."

They sat in a tense silence. The tea hadn't grown too cold, and they sipped staring over their cups at each other. The scones and the strawberries dwindled and finally she felt normal once more.

She picked a strawberry up and twirled it between her fingers, pulling her legs up to her chest and holding them.

"My stepmother told me that when I was a little girl she would call my freckles strawberry seeds. I thought it meant I looked messy, but really it's quite cute."

William chuckled and leaned back on his elbow propped up on the back of the couch.

"It is an adorable analogy. I bet you were a rosie little bud back then."

She bit her lip.

"My hair was a deep red then. It grew lighter as I got older. Though that might also have been the treatments."

His eyebrows drew down at that.

"What treatments?"

"I was quite obsessed with looking like I fit in with my family. Even today I don't have confidence in my looks. So I would cover my hair in lots of rinses and serums hoping to be blonde like my sisters. Right before we left for the Palace, I'd taken a bath with lemon juice and quite by accident my hair turned nearly pink."

He smiled at her and reached across to play with a curl of her hair.

"So that's why you looked so bright. I had a hard time keeping my eyes off you. Escorting Aster up those steps was the only way I could focus on anything else. She's quite chatty."

She leaned her head in and his fingers stroked her hair.

"Can we stay like this?"

"With me playing with your hair?"

"Yes."

"Very well. Though I do believe I owe you a lesson with the sword."

She closed her eyes, relaxing into his attentions.

"Later."

"Later."

...

It was noon and they'd spent the entire morning together simply relaxing in each other's company. Though they'd talked a little, it seemed the whole day would slip away if they didn't leave their room. Chammielle had finally dressed, though Will had held her about the waist to impede her, and the two of them were now in his office together.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a book?"

She was absorbed in the papers from her seat in the chaise lounge across from his desk. The window light was perfect here and she was surprised to hear that although this was the Duke of Columbine's favorite spot, he rarely read or did anything useful here. The smell of the parchment was soothing as it was warmed by the sun.

"Hmm? No, thank you. This is what you do, I'm very interested in it."

She glanced over the documents, noting the language and organization. It was well thought out. A tax cut for the middle class business owners woven into a cut for the upper class and nobility. If one profited all did. But specifically, the more the wealthier profited the more they'd spend. And that spending more often than not went into their enterprises, which created jobs. Their cut was extended if they spent more than ten percent of their annual profits on expansion.

It was quite ingenious.

"Will, what about adding a clause for hiring?"

"Hmm?"

"The tax cut extends to profits used to expand the existing businesses, but what if those businesses simply move around their workers? Can we not afford to see it all the way through to ensure the working class receives more job opportunities by allowing an additional percentage cut per annum to employ additional laborers? Perhaps those just starting out in the work force...a cut for training the inexperienced since they can cost the employer money if they do not work out for their position..."

The pages were bent down from her eyes and she hadn't noticed he'd walked over to her. He had a smile bright as day on his face. Almost blinding.

"Chammielle, you understood my motives behind this so well..."

His grin was infectious and she returned it.

"Well, it will boost the whole of the economy if the people can do business with fewer restrictions. What's good for the economy is good for Garten."

He snatched the pages and tossed them into the air and her mouth hung open.

"I cannot believe my good fortune. You play, you write, you bake, and you understand economics! Do you know how many hours a day I have been cooped up in here with only dreary reports of problems and Alfric to distract me from pressing issues? Every day I come here! And in one fell swoop I am married to the most wonderful woman in the world who has a fresh perspective on things and makes my droll work seem like play!"

He fell upon her lap, his face buried into her lap and stomach. His laughter reverberating inside of her and she panicked.

"W-William, this is your office!"

"Tell me what you want. Anything. It's yours. All you have to do is ask. A castle in Kuchen for holidays? An alabaster kitchen? I know, a piano in your room made of heartwood."

"How about a husband who remembers where he is?"

He pulled her down beneath him and she shrieked.

"I am in the palace, in my own space, free to do as I please. And my wife is with me and she delights me in every way no matter where we are."

He kissed her nose, her forehead, both cheeks, and then again and all over. He was enrapt and she was becoming breathless.

"Will..."

"I love how you say my name like that."

He nestled down and worked at her neck.

"We...um...Will..."

"I love you..."

The words no sooner left his lips that the two of them grew stiff. His lips stopped putting kisses on her throat and grew entirely still. He raised his head, his eyes smoldering and staring into hers. She couldn't speak. She couldn't move.

"I love you, Chammielle."

And then he took her mouth.