"What is taking so long?!"

It had been more than a week since her informant had come to her. Ammorettallia paced her cell wondering why she had no new information. And why she hadn't been brought before the high court yet.

"Those fools...do they think they can leave me in the dark!"

She threw the chamber pot across the room. Empty, but a foul smell wafted about her confined space.

"AAAAAAAUUGH!"

Things were not going according to plan. Her spies. Where were her spies?

"I'd be happy to supply you with a candle, your ladyship."

The deep voice spoke through the barred window in the door and she flew to it.

"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone telling me anything?"

The pale skin of the man was cut by the blood red smirk peering in at her. She knew this man. But what was he doing here?

"It would seem the royal couple have not been to high court yet. A little too much getting to know each other. They haven't left their shared suite in days. Not since the last day of the wedding feast. Surely you didn't think you'd be sentenced without them?"

"I thought I would have at least been told by now, Lord of Blood."

He tsked at her.

"I am a Lord, Ammorettallia."

"You've never fit in as one."

"And you've never struck me as a Lady but I'm not the one behind bars."

She sneered at him. There was a time she had found him quite handsome. A lovely dalliance to flirt with and practice her charms on. But he'd shown his true colors.

And they were as red as blood.

"Tell me, Bram, why were you dancing with that little weed at the ball?"

"I believe you mean her highness, dear Ammorettallia. How does that feel? Knowing it will never be you?"

She grit her teeth.

"Is that it? You thought I never would make it and that's why you left? You're going to endear yourself to her? That wretched little thing will never live to be Queen!"

His hand shot in through the bars and gripped her hair. She screamed but it was cut short. He pulled her face into the bars and up so that her feet dangled in the air. Her voice was choked as she gasped at the pain.

"Oh, she will live. You won't."

She felt faint and he finally released her. A throbbing headache wracking her head.

"Sleep well, Lady Aconia. Sleep is the only peace you will find here until death."

His footsteps fell lightly despite his illustrious bulk. Of all the men she had spurned, Bram Godfrey was the one who she could have kept along on her path to the Crown. And now, she was absolutely sure of one thing and one thing only.

He had something else he was planning.

...

Chammielle was finally sure Will would be fully recovered by tomorrow. Alfric snuck them broths and soups to help his recovery, and the day before yesterday he was able to sit up and hold a conversation with him for several hours. She snuck away to read whenever he wasn't eating or talking with his cousin. Excusing herself that she did not want to catch his cold. The Duke returned frequently to get advice on his letters.

She had sat reading her book, learning more and more about what true poverty was like and what evils it could cause. It was eye opening, and frustrating. She'd read the book twice through already, but there was more to be gleaned from it.

Now, he was asleep. His cousin had just left and ordered her a bath. He'd been smart the other day and didn't say why he wanted that tea. Otherwise her excuse of love making would have fallen through shortly thereafter. Whenever the maids came in the morning and afternoon the last few days, she'd jumped on the bed to send them away. Will had been asleep thankfully.

The bath drawn she took the soak for herself. She hadn't left his side in so long she really needed to wash her hair. The delicious heat enveloped her, and she reached for the soap.

"Oh, did you need this?"

All at once she hid at the edge of the tub.

"Will!"

He grinned at her and she was sure he'd seen more than her back. He sat upon the edge of the couch, like a cat with its tail whipping slowly from side to side. Seeing something he wanted and was ready to pounce on it. Chammielle blushed.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be in bed!"

"I got bored and had this wonderful memory come to me...that you undressed me and washed me and dried every part of my body off when I was sick with the fever."

Her face had to have more blood pumping into it than any part of her body and she felt faint.

"It...it was necessary...and..."

"It's not fair. You got to see me and I didn't get to see you."

Her eyes widened and she saw him stand from the couch and unbutton his shirt and breeches.

"Will...you!"

"I'll leave something on. You saw me while you were fully clothed. But I don't want to get my clothes wet as I wash you. I have the distinct feeling you're going to splash me."

She buried her face in her hands and turned away from him, her knees up to her chest. And then she felt the water shift.

"You do have freckles everywhere after all..."

Her face spun and she saw him stepping into the water in his under breeches.

"Will!"

"And an adorable little behind as well."

She splashed water into his face and scooted to the far side of the tub.

"See? I knew I was right."

Her heart thudded in her ears so her thoughts could not reconcile with one another over the roar of it.

"You shouldn't be in here. You should be resting."

"I've been resting. I needed a bath as well."

"Yes... but not with me in it!"

He chuckled and she wanted to drown. The pain she'd felt came to the surface.

"Will, this isn't good for you. You've been taking too many baths of an entirely different temperature and it's all because of me! What do you think will happen seeing me like this?"

His fingers went under her chin and he made her eyes meet with his. They were much clearer now. He did look healthy again.

"A small discomfort. I won't be taking those ice baths any longer, so you needn't worry about that. I've decided to live with the straining until you agree to have children with me. But until then, there's no reason not to enjoy each other's company."

A tear fell down her cheek. She'd been feeling so guilty and so alone. She was certain she would leave him be and abstain from kissing him. Her resolve had been so sure. But now that he was here, with his arms open wide, she couldn't help herself.

"Will..."

She turned and hugged him about the neck.

"Oh..."

"Oh!"

She tried to release him, forgetting their state of undress. His hands encircled her waist and held her in place.

"No, don't leave...not now..."

She felt his heartbeat and felt her own steadily match it. It was soothing her last nerve. She wondered why she hadn't wanted to do this before.

"Will..."

She felt the soap in his hands as they trailed up and down her back. He turned his head and whispered into her ear.

"I did say I'd wash you."

His fingers dotted every freckle, traveling down to her hips then pulling her legs on either side of him. Taking a little too much care washing the backs of her knees and her thighs. It was a wonder he never learned to play the piano. He was practically making music over her body.

"Mmh...I..."

"Turn around, Chammielle. Put your back to my chest."

She obeyed unthinking. This was her husband. She barely heard the gasp of his breath as she leaned back. Her limbs felt weightless.

"Perhaps you ought to wash your front... My self control is wavering."

She took it from his hands and did just that. His eyes were on her over her shoulder as she rested against him, and she wondered what he was thinking. His heartbeat thudded through her back and she guessed he was watching very closely. She slowed her hands and let the water glide off of her and felt the thudding erupt into the sound of horse hooves pounding through his chest. And here she'd always thought her bosom was nothing much in the way of volume or attracting attention.

She smiled and leaned forward and began to wash her hair.

"Let me do that for you."

His fingers crept into her hair and she felt them rub her scalp so that every bit of stress she was sure was gone had also packed up it's house and was moving to Franca.

"Mmm..."

"You know...I did hear you when you were calling out my name and making those noises."

Her eyes fluttered open and she felt her blush cover her cheeks.

"I...well, I guessed it could sound like...well, when we've kissed and..."

"I was almost convinced I was making love to you right then. Wished I was when I saw that crimson on your cheek."

She smacked at his hand and he laughed so that it rumbled through her ribcage.

"Oh, don't fret. I tease..."

He paused and his hands reached forward into the water.

"W-will?"

"Shh...I just had an idea."

...

Chammielle was starving.

Her time with Will had left her wanting more but also feeling overwhelmed. She wondered if all married couples did such things. And if they did, was that the reason people wanted to marry so soon?

She'd never expected the things she felt for him. Her ideal of a loveless marriage where she could be allowed into the servant's kitchen and a piano and small library had been sorely wanting. It hadn't lasted but one glorious moment. And then another. And thank goodness or else she might not have been able to do anything else the rest of the day.

She lay on the bed next to him. Herself above the blankets and he below. And neither of them could take their eyes off of each other.

"You..."

"I can't say I've ever known anything like that."

He chuckled and his hand played with her hair.

"Neither have I. And I definitely didn't know that lovely lilting you let fly from that pretty throat of yours."

She blushed and half buried her head into the sheets below her.

"Don't be embarrassed. It was the most natural gift God ever gave mankind. You are beautiful in every way."

"And you...you're alright?"

"Yes."

"Truly?"

"Yes, Chammielle. I am wonderful. I got to experience you even if we did not accomplish all we could have."

She bit her lip and snuggled into his side.

This was the truest sensation of being home she'd ever had. It was joy, peace, and the thrill of someone knowing you intimately. He held her and it was better than four walls and a roof.

She recalled his gibberish about someone taking care of him like she was.

"Will?"

"Hmm?"

"When you first came down with your fever, you said someone called Bells had cared for you."

"Oh, yes. What else did I say?"

She smothered her face into his loose shirt. He hadn't wanted to wear the sleepwear but it provided additional warmth and she had insisted on it.

"She cared for you when your mother went away. When did Queen Magnolia leave?"

He sighed and she could tell this was a sensitive subject. Did she really even need to know?

"It's alright. You don't have to tell me."

"No. No, you should know. You're my wife, the woman I love and trust more than any other in the world. It's a secret, but one only my father, my mother, and my aunt knew. Alfric knows now too, but that was an emergency."

She peered up at him as his fingers spiraled her curls.

"My mother...Queen Magnolia...was the first wife of my father. And she passed sometime after I was born. The Queen Magnolia who is on the throne today is mother to Violet and Tulip, but not me."

Chammielle felt her heart stop at this news. How could this be so?

"Then...why does no one know about this? They're both named Magnolia? Why?"

"The Dowager Queen is a stand in for my mother. My father married her quickly. They had both been in another country on a second honeymoon when she had died. No one knew who they were there. It was an accident. The doctor's aid...she had looked just like my mother except for the color of her hair. They married and came home, secretly bringing my mother's body back to be buried. A messy business, but a political necessity."

She couldn't believe her ears. The Queen...the Queen was not the Queen?

"So then...Queen Magnolia..."

"Is a lovely actress, but even my sisters do not know of her arrangement. She's Norlandian by birth, and a very fearsome woman. But she has no desire to sit in high court or rule a people. My aunt did her best to help her, and me with the change."

"Bells."

"Yes. She was named for those little white flowers that drape like so many bells on one rung. But no one here knows her by her given name."

It seemed so familiar. Like she'd heard it before.

"She remains at the palace?"

"She became my nursemaid when her family lost all their fortunes and good name. I trust her more than the Duchess of Columbine or even Violet."

Her finger lifted and tugged at his lower lip.

"But not more than me?"

His eyes grew darker and he leaned in and kissed her deeply. She felt sated and sighed into the kiss. He parted with a smile.

"No one can compare to you. I love you, Chammielle."

"And I...I think I love you too, Will."

He kissed her again abruptly, then whispered across her mouth.

"You don't have to say anything until you're sure."

"Alright."

He kissed her again and held her, stroking her hair as they lay together. They fell asleep this way, and Alfric came in later and saw them in their night clothes and stared. Such happiness would be his some day. He left them with a new hope in his chest.

Clothes really didn't matter.