I nearly can't believe what we've just decided.
We will be married.
Standing, I move to the corner where there is a small bassinet and place the sleeping baby down inside, before returning to Harry on the bed.
I fall back, laughing, and he comes over me like a bright cloud in the sky, his smile radiant. "You know what this means."
Tracing his mouth with my fingertip, I ask him, "What does it mean, my Lord?"
His smile is a sly thing, curling slowly at his lips. "It means you will be my queen."
An instinctive smile bursts out of me, and then I feel it wobble a bit as my nerves set in and the thought occurs to me that it is more than simply being his wife. It is being something altogether more for the people of this kingdom, the people I've grown up beside, and who have always only seen me as common.
I am less worried about them accepting me as their queen, and more worried that I can live up to it all. After all, Maria failed us so horribly.
Harry does not seem to notice my sudden apprehension, ducking to kiss my neck. "What would you have us change in this castle?"
I blink at his question, and stare up at the vaulted ceiling, letting my eyes really take in every detail for the first time. I've been here before, so many times, but have never had the luxury of examining the tiny flourishes, the carved beams, the gold inlaid in the tiny oak accents all throughout the room.
"I do not think I would change a thing," I admit. "I do not think I would know how to improve it."
"I don't just mean here," he says, kissing my jaw. "I mean everything. How would you have it become your home?"
I shake my head, overwhelmed in an instant by all of it.
"Cath," Harry murmurs, kissing my chin. "I want to feel as though I am living in your rooms. I want to be surrounded by all of your soft, lovely things."
He makes his way down my body, pushing my dress up and out of his way, his lips like silk on my skin.
And I know where he's headed.
But he doesn't go where I want him most—between the soft skin of my thighs, where I want his mouth and his breath and his kiss. Instead, he pauses at my hipbone, whispering, "Tell me what we need to change here so you feel at home while I am gone, or I'll not give you what I know you want."
I close my eyes, reaching down to playfully pinch his shoulder.
But he remains still, lips resting innocently on my navel.
I take a deep breath, blinking up to the blank wall beside the bed. "Color," I tell him. "Greens and blues and oranges." Not reds, I think. "Paintings, and vases, and flowers."
"Done." I can feel his smile when he kisses lower.
"I want Anne to be nearby," I tell him, and hold my breath as I add boldly, "I want the kings rooms to become the nursery."
He rewards me with a kiss to the softest, innermost part of my thigh. "One more."
"I want to open the front halls to the village more than once every few years. I want to welcome the people in the courtyards to celebrate the everyday things."
"Such as?"
"Such as your return, our daughter's birth." I shrug, running a hand into his hair. "The smallest and the largest holidays."
Harry beams up at me, and goes to duck lower but his smile slips as we are interrupted by a knock at the doors across the room. We both stand, and I straighten my skirts down my legs.
Harry walks over, and opens the door to reveal Liam in the hallway, holding Anne.
I move quickly, taking my daughter and kissing her cheeks with enthusiasm. Beneath my lips her skin is soft, and firm; warm with the excitement of such a fast trip to a new place. I feel as though I haven't seen her in days.
She looks around, wide-eyed, and her smile is enormous and bright. What an odd sensation, I think, to see my child in her new home. To know that she is not returning to the cottage tonight.
After looking at me, she immediately reaches for her father.
With a little laugh, I hand her over. But just as Liam gives a small nod and turns to leave, I reach out, touching his shoulder.
"Wait," I tell him. Looking to Harry, I ask, "Do you mind giving me just a few moments alone with Liam?"
I'm not sure what I expect, whether it's for either man to look uncomfortable with what I've asked, but they simply exchange a small glance, and then Harry steps with Anne out into the hallway.
The door closes behind him with a heavy click.
"Hallo, Catie," Liam says with his shy smile.
It has been so long since I've been alone with him, and it makes nostalgia ache inside me. It was such a confusing, fearful time but I am so very fond of him.
And marriages don't just end here. They may grow flat and loveless; they may have started out that way, but they never simply end.
And I don't really know how to navigate it.
I want it.
And I know he wants it.
But I need to hear him say it.
I step forward to embrace him. "How have you been? How is Mary?"
When I step back, I can see his cheeks pink. "We are both well. Your parents have taken very well to our odd circumstances."
I do not know a good way to begin, so I simply tell him: "Harry has asked me to marry him."
"Of course he has." Liam's smile widens, and his lack of surprise eases something in me.
"It means our marriage will be nullified. Is that all right?"
He laughs outright now. "You ask me this? Truly?"
"I am sincere," I say, smacking his shoulder lightly. "You've given me so much . . ."
At this, his expression straightens and he blinks across the room, toward the window. "In hindsight, I don't know how any of us managed." Scratching his jaw, he adds, "I do not mean that it was a trial, being married to you." I laugh at this, and he allows another small smile. "I just mean that I assumed we would be wed forever, that I would raise your child as mine. I imagined a life full of secrets, and it all seems so impossible that we won't have to endure it."
I exhale a small laugh. I can relate to this, absolutely.
"It takes a bit of getting used to," he says, meeting my eyes again. "The idea of having what I want."
Nodding, I whisper, "I know exactly what you are feeling."
"Catie," he says, taking my hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. "There is something I wish to say before we part."
With a small nod of encouragement, I tell him, "Anything."
His dark eyes meet mine. "I hope you do not ever think poorly of me for taking you into my bed."
My pulse stills in my chest. "What on earth-?"
He shakes his head quickly, interrupting me. "I regret it, and I wish to apologize. I feel now there had to be another way." His words speed up, hand tightening on mine. "Given my love for Mary, given my knowledge of your love for the prince, I don't know how I was able, how I was eager, rather . . ."
"Liam," I tell him, putting a hand to his chest to stop his frantic words. My heart hurts for him, for the guilt I see on his expression. Because I know to him - to all of us - from this vantage point the past feels nearly surreal. "You body is not only ruled by your heart. It is also ruled by your mind, and by your instincts. You did what you thought you needed to do to protect me, and us. I am grateful. I could not fathom feeling resentment toward you."
With a small nod, he glances back up at me. "Thank you."
"Think nothing of it. It is I who am indebted to you. Please do not speak of such nonsense anymore."
He shrugs, releasing my hand. "Admittedly, I am still reeling from today."
The tower, Maria . . . it all seems like it happened months, rather than hours, ago. "Aye. Does Mary know of the child?"
He shakes his head. "Not yet. Not even I knew until I was summoned by your guard."
It seems madness that she and Douglas kept this from everyone. And with both of them dead, we can never know their motives for sure. Now we are left having to deliver the news of her death to the King of Spain.
"When will the King address his subjects?" Liam asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Soon. He plans to return Maria's body to her family, shortly," I tell him, and Liam's eyes go wide.
"That is madness, Catie."
I let out a small, humorless laugh. "I agree."
"Surely I can go on his behalf?"
Shaking my head, I tell him, "I could never agree to that. But I would like you to accompany him."
"Of course."
Turning to the door, Liam pulls it open and leans out, beckoning to Harry who is singing quietly to Anne in the hall. He comes in, and hands her over readily when Liam asks to hold her.
My throat feels tight, my chest squeezing painfully.
We have everything we want, and still, it all feels so precarious.
"Harry," I say quietly. He turns his attention from where he'd been watching Anne with Liam, and smiles at me. "Liam will accompany you to Spain."
Harry laughs at this. "Are you sure? We did not fare so well as travel companions before."
"To the contrary," Liam disagrees with a grin, "we simply had more adventure than most."
"Perhaps less adventure this time," I tell them. Both men look at me, eyebrows raised. "Yes, darling," I tell Harry at his amused smile. "That is an order."
Liam laughs beside him, and Harry gives me a formal nod before murmuring, "I promise, my Lady."
He wants to be a different kind of king.
I want to be a different kind of girl.
I shall walk in front. I shall answer aloud. I shall learn how to lead.
I shall never break.
"We will leave in two days' time," Harry tells me.
My heart climbs into my throat. "Then you must address your subjects tomorrow."
"Aye."
I lick my lips, swallowing back the instinctive need to duck my head, to allow him to decide all of these things, but he simply watches me, waiting. "And before you do, you must decide how you will handle the child over there, sleeping."
Harry's eyes flicker to the bassinet and he nods, once. "Aye."
"I will not be their queen until you return," I remind him. "I will remain the girl who waits for you. So return to me. You must."