I head into the stables, waving off Braden, the stablemaster. I need no help, nor do I want it, from this man or any man. In minutes, I'm leading my stallion, Sir Neigh, out of the barn and I quickly mount up. Here is the one male I enjoy wholeheartedly; he has never broken my heart or sought out another. I was present at his birth six years ago, a beautiful chestnut, wobbly-legged foal, and I raised him. My father gave him to me and no one else has ever seated him. The fact that he is mine and mine alone comforts me. At least I do not have to share him.

Braden yells after me when he sees me take off, no guard in sight. He thought I'd come to groom my boy, not go riding. He is used to me riding only in the mornings, never in the late afternoon near the evening meal.

However, I plan on missing the meal tonight and all nights going forward so I do not have to watch her watching my husband in the common room any longer.

It hurts. It hurts me so badly. I always wonder if my parents knew, when they married me off to the warrior, that his peoples' tradition included the males keeping and flaunting their mistresses. Knowing my parents, and the great love between the two of them, and just the two of them, I cannot imagine they did or they would not have given me over to him.

When I am out of sight of the stables, I decide on a different course and change direction, urging Sir into a gallop, leaning low over his neck, letting him have his head. We fly over to the river, where I slow him down and allow him to walk in the shallows of the water for several miles. He's always enjoyed that and the sound of the water soothes me.

As he picks his way through the river, I pour out my woes to him, my words bleeding out of my mouth and into his twitching ears. Everything comes out, the pain, the humiliation, the anger, the sorrow, the hopelessness, the utter devastation. I can't return to my parents' home because my father would return me not out of malice but because a wife belongs with her husband. He would give me sanctuary if I had been physically mistreated, but since I am not, he has no reason to protect me.

I sigh as I realize I have no choice but to continue to live here, my heart dying a little more every day as I sleep alone in my bed, the warrior not alone in his. He is with her. My only hope is that someday he will allow me to live away from him at one of his other estates. Since he doesn't seem to care about family, maybe once he has his heir, he will let us go.

Defeat is hard for me to accept, and as soon as I think that thought, my anger at myself grows. Who says I have to accept my lot? What if I were to run away? I had some money my mother slipped into my trunk before we left.

"A woman should always have her own money," she'd whispered and I'd nodded my understanding. "Unpack it when you get home and hide it well in case there is ever need for it."

She was assuming in case we were ever overrun with raiders, I could use it to ransom my husband if he were ever taken.

I also had jewelry I could sell.

Thinking back to the first – and only – time he had given jewelry to me, I frown. It was the day we had arrived at Bellford and I discovered...her.

A servant had summoned me to his library and the warrior waited in there for me, holding a velvet bag in his hand.

I'd walked into the room, keeping my eyes to the floor, even after I heard the servant bow out and close the door.

"I have made arrangements for Mrs. Kelly to give you a tour of the estate and to go over household matters with you. Bellford Keep has been without a mistress since the old lord and lady died."

I continued to stare at the ground and I did not acknowledge that I heard him. His boots came into my view after a few moments of silence.

"Are you well, my lady wife?"

Just a short nod from me as answer.

His fingers nudged my chin up, but I still managed to keep my eyes downcast. "What is wrong that you will neither speak to me nor look me in the eye?"

"May I leave?" I asked.

Sensing his irritation, I was not surprised that his answer was swift. "No, you may not. I would like to know the cause of your distress and I have a surprise for you."

That got him my eyes, but they were enraged. "I never want another surprise from you ever again."

"This one you will like," he assured me, and spilled the contents of the velvet bag into his hand. It was a beautiful diamond and emerald necklace.

Pushing his hand away, I snapped. "I want nothing from you. Give it to her, give all of your gifts to her. But do not ever attempt to give me a gift, ever again. You have nothing I want."

Then I left him in his library, holding the jewelry I rejected.

The memory was bitter and made me reconsider accepting his gifts. Perhaps I should have taken them, then I could sell them and book passage on a ship to another country and start a new life there, never having to see the warrior with her again.

Liking this plan, my mind begins to add details to it, making the impossible seem possible, within reach. So deep am I into my thoughts that I don't notice the sun setting and the stars peeping out at Sir and me. My stomach rumbles, so I know it is well past the evening meal. How sad that my spirits are lifted at the thought of missing a meal, missing her making eyes at the man I am married to from her place further down our table. My humiliation never ends.

Fortunately, the moon is full and provides enough light for Sir and me to get back. We've come much farther than I thought and it takes hours to get home since I won't allow Sir his head to run as I did when there was light still.

About half an hour from home, I see a rider heading toward me with a torch raised high. He reins in as he comes alongside me.

"Milady, are you well?"

I smile at his concern. "Thank you, yes, Sir Alcarn."

"Were you lost?"

"No; I only lost track of time and rode farther than I thought. When I realized and turned back, I could not allow Sir Neigh to run as he had earlier, when there was still sun."

"Everyone is out looking for you."

What on earth? "Why?"

His look is part relief and part anger. "You disappeared, milady, without an escort, and you missed the evening meal. Then when you still did not return, my lord sent all of his warriors out to find you."

"Yes, I'm sure he couldn't be bothered to look himself."

That bit of bitterness came out before I could stop my mouth. I'd broken a rule of my own, that no one should know of my marital discord, and I fidgeted uncomfortably in my saddle.

"No, milady. He was the first one out to look for you when you didn't show up for the evening meal. When he couldn't find you, he sent all of us out, my lord himself included."

With the bit of light we had from the torch, we trotted back toward the keep. Every so often, Alcarn would blow a horn he had shrilly.

"In case anyone is close enough to hear, they will know you have been found and will pass that along."

Sure enough, on the ride back, four more knights joined us, grouping themselves around me.

The upheaval my ride had caused took me by surprise. At home, although my parents didn't like it, I would disappear until well after dark all the time during the summer.

"I apologize," I told my escorts. "At home I would often lose track of the time and return late. My parents never sent out anyone to find me, so I had no idea the warrior would."

"Be prepared, milady," one of my escorts said.

"For what?"

"My lord is not used to being...concerned, and your disappearance did not sit well with him. It's a wonder he didn't kill Braden."

"Why on earth would he do that?"

"Braden knew you'd ridden off and informed no one until he was questioned."

"A mistake he will never make again," Basik chortled.

The keep came into view, other riders coming toward the stables from opposite directions. I thanked my escort, apologized to them and allowed one of them to take Sir and wipe him down so I could head to my chambers.

As soon as my maid undid my laces on my dress, I dismissed her so she could sleep. Then I crawled into my bed and fell to sleep immediately.

I never knew if it was hours or minutes later but the door to my chambers burst open and hit the wall, startling me awake.

Then it was slammed shut and I could barely make out the form of the warrior as he stalked to my bed.

"Do you know what you did?" he growled at me.

An apology would have been the proper thing right then.

"Yes. I'm quite aware I went for a ride."

Quick as a flash, his arms reached out and grabbed me to him, my knees still on the bed. "Now is not the time for your mouth. You caused an uproar, wife, and you inconvenienced me and all my men."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I cooed. "Did I infringe on the time you could have spent with your whore?"

His fingers tightened on my upper arms. "Is that what this is? A tantrum about my camaspoza?"

"Let me go," I hissed.

"You need to learn your place," he snarled back. "I will not have my life disrupted because you cannot accept that which has always been."

"For you, it is tradition. For me, it is the worst insult you can give a wife. It demeans me and my position and every day I hate you more than the day before. I am miserable with you; I abhor the life you are forcing me to live. And I will never accept that which has always been because I will never accept something that destroys me. If I fell dead tomorrow, I would rejoice that my shame would be at an end."

The warrior drew back at the poison I spewed at him.

"You have no choice but to accept."

"You are wrong. I will do my duty by you and give you an heir, but no more than that."

"You cannot keep yourself from me."

"There you are wrong, Warrior. I already do keep myself from you. You have my body, but that is all. Everything else that is in me despises you with a hatred so deep, it is beyond measure."

"Do not fool yourself. Your jealousy makes you think it is hatred, but you are only jealous because you care."

"No. I used to care, and you know that I fell in love with you in our month together before we wed. I was prepared to make you my everything and to share a beautiful life with you, sharing our joys and sorrows and concerns, raising our children together. What I dreamed of was as magnificent as I thought you were. But all of that was gone in a moment when you introduced her to me. It killed everything good I was feeling about us in but a moment, and your lack of respect and your continued humiliation of me – your preference for her – have changed my feelings to quite the opposite of what they were on the day we wed."

"Your body says otherwise."

He didn't understand. "You are skilled in bed, no doubt. You have enough experience to give me pleasure despite my wish otherwise. But you do not touch my heart or my mind or my soul. My parents have a true marriage and that is what I was raised thinking I would have. And instead, I have nothing."

"You have my loyalty and affection and protection."

"I most certainly do not have your loyalty nor do I have your affection."

"I come to your bed; what is that if not affection?"

"That is doing your duty and every time you do, something in me dies. It is not something that enhances our love or our connection as husband and wife; it is assuredly killing anything that I once thought I felt. A body is just a shell."

"A shell that will carry the sons that I fuck into you."

I look away because what once would have thrilled me breaks my heart, especially given the crude way he says it. "Once I am pregnant, I would like to go into seclusion at another one of your estates."

"No."

"Why?" I demand, frustrated. "What possible reason is there for me to stay once I am pregnant?"

"Because you are my wife and you remain where I say. You need no other reason."

"Just go," I demand.

But he doesn't. "I think I will take my pleasure now, wife."

And he does, but I remain impassive and resistant as long as I can. Which is not long at all.

"Take your pleasure," he whispers into my ear. "It is not shameful to do so."

Tears streaming down my face, I do. I cannot help it. "I hate you," I whisper to him. "I want you to stay away from me."