The Bed Wife

Chapter Seven

Baylin sat down next to her as she handed him a half a tart. The two talked as they snacked. When they were finished, they lay back on the clover bed and began guessing at the shapes of the clouds as they rolled by.

"That one looks like a castle," Luana said, pointing up into the sky. "Just like your home!"

Baylin pointed at another cloud. "What about that one?"

"That one looks like a Princess's crown," Luana replied.

Baylin smiled to himself. He was so much happier in the field than he ever was in the castle.

"Baylin?" Luana asked, still staring up into the sky.

He turned his gaze from the clouds and looked at her. "Yes?"

"Could I ever be a Princess? You know, like you are a Prince?" she asked with a smile on her face.

The thought made Baylin sad. He turned his eyes back to the sky. "You have to be born a Princess."

The words did not seem to discourage Luana, however. "But Papa says you are to be King someday."

"So?" Baylin retorted.

Luana sat up and looked down at Baylin on the ground. "Well, when a King marries, his wife becomes the Queen. So when we grow up, we can get married. Then I can stay with you in the castle and we could eat tarts all day!"

Baylin sat up, laughing at Luana. "It doesn't work like that."

Luana wrinkled her nose in defiance. "Why not? If you are King, you make the rules. It can work if you want it to."

Baylin smiled. "Well then, my Queen, what if we get tired of eating tarts?"

Luana giggled. "We could go riding, attend feasts and balls. Oh, what fun we would have! And best of all, we would be together in the castle."

Baylin smiled at Luana's cheerful grin. He reached back and picked a delicate white daisy from the tall grass and placed it in her silvery hair just behind her ear. He felt blessed to have such a true friend.

The memory made Baylin's heart swell as he thought of the laughing little girl. Outside of Ferric, Luana had been the only true friend he had ever known. He wished he could have those days back. 'If we had only been allowed to stay friends,' he thought, 'how different out lives might have been.'

Baylin continued to admire Luana as he listened to her sing. Her voice was haunting to him and it pulled at his longing for her. "You sing beautifully."

Luana turned quickly at the sound of his voice. "Your Grace, apologies. I did not mean to wake you."

Baylin walked to Luana and wrapped the fur around her shoulders. "It was a wonderful way to wake."

Luana blushed slightly and looked away. Baylin loved the way her soft pale skin flushed a rose pink when he managed to charm her.

"You must be cold," Luana said, looking at Baylin's bare chest as she hugged the fur around her. "Please, let us go inside."

Luana started for the room but Baylin pulled her closer to him, tilting her chin up with his hand. She looked at him with those fierce emerald green eyes; he wanted to be lost in them. For the first time in weeks she seemed to have let her guard down. She was so striking that his heart hurt.

Baylin leaned in close to Luana's lips, waiting for her to pull away, but she didn't. He could feel her breath against his face and smell her sweet skin. He wanted to savor this moment.

As he leaned in to press his lips to hers, he heard a loud knock on the chamber door. Both Baylin and Luana were startled at the sound, and Luana quickly pulled away.

Baylin sighed in frustration as he made his way into the chamber to the door.

"Prince Baylin, apologies," a guard said with a bow as Baylin opened the door. "His Grace the King has requested your presence at once for war council."

Baylin again sighed, this time in irritation. "Tell him I will be there soon."

Baylin closed the door and turned. Luana was sitting on the settee in front of the hearth with the fur wrapped around her.

He made his way over to her and sat beside her. "I must go."

She stared at the glowing embers in the hearth and nodded slightly.

Baylin could see the moment was gone. She had put up her walls again, and there would be no knocking them down today.

He rose and dressed for council with the King.