by Marie Hall
Penth withheld food from his whole house. Penance to God, he'd tell her. The unworthy would find food only when God showed it to them. Io and a few others hadn't waited for God; they'd taken to the woods to forage and hunt. But when Io's arrow found the neck of the deer Isbon sought for sport, the man chained her in his yard and left her for a month, under the blistering sun, with no more than two cups a water every day. Penth gave no regard to her situation, though it was his care she was in. And not long after, Io was taken to another house.
"She offended me; I was justified," Isbon yelled, spitting out a bug that flew into his mouth."
"You offend me," Xavier yelled. "And what I do now is for her."
"She was a criminal, a—"
"She was a child. A starving child, at that." Xavier gave the post a kick to make sure it stood firm.
"Lord Brice," he said, like he was trying to reason with Xavier.
"I will think about you in a month's time," Xavier said, heading toward where the men gathered at the edge of the bog. "If you are still alive… I will show you mercy with a quick death."
"You think he will last?" Gerald asked as Xavier mounted.
"A day or two," Xavier replied flatly. It was hardly the length Io had suffered under his hand, but it would be enough.
"Any longer, and Io will find out," Roth warned.
"You did only tell her you wanted to talk to him," Luther reminded him.
"I did talk with him." Xavier turned in his saddle and looked back at the man trying to break free of the ropes. "Have a pleasant day," he called, pressing his heels in. "See, I spoke with him."
The men chuckled and shook their heads. He hoped Io didn't ask him for details of what they spoke. Of course, he could find ways to distract her if she did.
Xavier sat back, lifting Io's ankle from the bed. Too sated to resist anything he might intend now, she barely opened her eyes when he pressed his lips to faint scars there. He continued kissing the marred skin while he dragged his fingers up her leg and thigh.
"Ah, Xavier," she said on a wispy breath. "What more might we do this night?"
"Anything you might like," he teased, lifting her leg higher and placing his lips behind her knee.
"I should like to not carry the blame when you fall asleep waiting to be seen on the morrow by…" she faded off but lifted her hips so his fingers pushed hard against her sex. "Who do you see tomorrow?" she asked, almost sounding like she might care.
"The Grand Chamberlain," Xavier answered, lying down with his head against her inner thigh. He drew lazy circles on the skin above her sex. "You need not worry; the man is dull. They would blame him should I fall asleep."
Io's soft laughter turned into a moan when he leaned in and placed a kiss on her clit. "Then I will let blame fall on him," she said, reaching down to take a fistful of his hair and hold his face against her.
Xavier pulled her clit into his mouth and drew on it several times. She twisted, but she'd little fight left after the enjoyments they'd shared through the night. He slid two fingers into her and slowly stroked her in time with each hard draw he took. He could feel her climb, but she seemed not to be able to reach the top. He added a third finger, sliding his left hand up her torso until he found her breast. He gave her only a few moments as he pushed her back as high as he had her before then took hold and pinched her nipple as hard as he could. That was all it took; she spent, her body arching off the bed, bowing her almost in half. He kept his mouth on her, causing her to jerk down as she spent again. Her cry was mingled with a sob, and it took some time for her to stop gasping.
A few soft kisses more, to keep her taste on his lips, and he moved up to settle half on top of her. "I think it is I who lays claim to victory this night."
She hummed, her fingers combing back his hair. "You lay siege with a most vile weapon, my lord. What choice but to yield?"
"Ah, I see now you know what a sharp weapon the tongue can be," Xavier chided, setting his head on the pillow next to hers.
"It is all in how it is wielded," Io quipped. "I might wonder at the looks should I want to rain down curses on your head, but rather go down on my knees and suck your cock."
Xavier rolled to his back and laughed out loud. "As much as I would enjoy such acts from you, let us stay with words."
"Hmm, yes. That could be for the best." The last word was lost to a yawn. And Xavier moved to tuck her close.
"Sleep, Io," he told her then turned his head to blow out the candle. He hoped now she was tired enough to sleep soundly. For while the first matter he'd been informed of was that of Io's tormenter turning up, the second was that Io had taken up sleepwalking.
In the four nights he was gone, Io had gotten out of bed and moved not only through the house, but through the yards, three times. It took twice before the men realized she wasn't awake when they intercepted her, wherever she was going, and the third time they followed her about, making sure she didn't hurt herself, but they said all she did was get to the kitchens and stop. They let her stand there for a long while before easing her back in the direction of her bed and making sure she was asleep in it. Each morning, they asked if she'd slept well. She said no, but seemed to have no memory of walking about or any dream, not knowing her dream was normal. As much as she remembered everything else, she never recalled what she dreamt.
Xavier couldn't reason what caused his wife, who normally, once asleep, was like the dead, to move about. He'd heard of such things, mostly in association with witchcraft or devilry. But that wasn't Io. He made sure the men didn't speak of it outside their circle, but he also wanted to know why she did it. Mark said letting her move where she needed could reveal some clue, but he, too, had no sound advice to give. Xavier was sorely tempted to have her locked in or tied to the bed, but he didn't want to guess at how she'd receive that idea. If it wasn't the devil making her walk while she slept, she'd open on him when he tried to lock her in.
More than ever, he wanted Io home. This would have to be the shortest visit to court he'd ever made, but for Io's sake, he'd get them gone the first chance. If only those in control would cooperate.
Chapter 13
"Lord Brice."
Xavier turned from his conversation with Sir Richard Howard and several of the men he had come up with as a young soldier and knight. He'd kept the conversation on matters of no importance but did what he could to learn who'd be at court this time. He only knew a few names of those once responsible for Io, but knowing that Isbon had made an appearance, he couldn't risk Io being surprised again should she cross paths with any other of her jailers.
Lord Stephan Brock stepped up to the group, all of whom, including Xavier, bowed deeply. Of the various and often times shifting magnates in the king's royal council, this man was a principal player. He'd already served decades under the last king and held influence over the current king from before he wore the crown.
"Your Grace," Xavier stepped out of the intimate circle to greet the man.
"Walk with me," Brock said then turned with no doubt Xavier wouldn't. It was several long steps before the man spoke again. "You have been long from court; it is good to see you again. Looking quite fit."
"Your Grace, I do not forego training; my duty always is to defend the crown," Xavier said and wondered at the odd start to the conversation. "As to being away, I am newlywed and my wife is—"
"To hear from His Majesty, she is a handful worthy of your skills; to hear from your mother—"
"With all due respect, my lord, Charlotte Brice is no kin to me, and anything she might say is to be heard with the understanding she knows this." Xavier wondered if Charlotte had come to plead her case to the throne.
"So it is true then, you denounced her?"
"She tried to end my marriage. Even informing her it was the king's decision, one he reaffirmed, would not stop her in her endeavors. And while I will not stand here and accuse her of direct involvement, her stance encouraged others to place Lady Io's life in grave danger. There
were several attempts on her life while Charlotte was in residence."
"You said nothing of this to His Majesty." A question or an accusation, Xavier wasn't sure.
"I did not see the need. Io was complacent in her own safety and the men in my ranks attended their duties," Xavier said, following the man into a small chamber off the main hall. "As well, my wife has endeared herself to the people of the lands. There is no one there who would let her be harmed."
"So you have said in your correspondence. Should I presume your execution of young Landon Sutter had something to do with your mother's influence in the house?"
"Lord Sutter complained, did he?" Xavier knew a few of those he'd signed death warrants for had family who might yelp. But Sutter was no one, a baron with a title but nothing else, and even were he kin to someone higher up and more powerful, it wouldn't have mattered. He tried to kill Io; he paid for his disloyalty.
"He invested some funds and some favors in getting the boy to train under you," Brock said, stepping over to pour them each a cup of wine.
"He'd have been wise to have invested in lessons on loyalty and what it means to keep an oath." Xavier took the cup but held off taking a sip. "His confession was his own; he went to the gallows boasting of his desire to act against my house and my wife."
"Indeed?" he said, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a long sip; once done, Xavier, too, took a drink.
"I did detail the incident for His Majesty, as well as sent the traitor's belongings back to his family to be used on a more fitting body perhaps."
"I should wonder that you would condemn your squire at the behest of your wife, who else might fall under your blade at her word?"
And there it was, the questioning of his loyalties. He knew they'd come; he'd prepared himself to answer anything they asked. "Your Grace, I should be as direct as I might be. Lady Io's behest was I spare all who conspired against her. She pleaded at my feet to spare all whom I'd sentenced, even while the likes of Landon Sutter rained curses down on her head. Lady Io has no stomach for vengeance, no will to fight if there is an opportunity to run, she's no want to displace anyone. If my blade falls in redress to crimes committed against her, it falls at my will alone."
"Then I will assume she didn't request you deposit Isbon in the bogs," the man said, a raised eyebrow telling Xavier he wouldn't condemn him for it.
"I did not even tell her," Xavier said easily and saw the man hide a smile behind his cup. "I would be very grateful if she never learns of it. Her upset is not something I care to have at this time."
"I do not think she will hear anything about his demise, but she may hear the groans from those now completely unable to collect the debt he owed them. The crown will seize his holdings; anyone else who was so foolish as to loan him money…" He shrugged and let the sentence stand.
"I am pleased to cause no problem for the crown in this," Xavier said, waiting for more tests of his loyalties.
Lord Brock chuckled. "I will assume you will at least try to keep the crown as your priority. As I understand you to be… smitten with the lady."
"I will always give the crown first consideration in matters that could touch him. But I am not 'smitten' with my wife," Xavier said, knowing this man wouldn't make anything of Xavier's confession being he never remarried after his own wife died in childbirth. As far as anyone knew, he'd not taken another woman to his bed in the last twenty years. "No, my lord, I am completely in love with her."
Stephan Brock set his cup aside and, stepping up to Xavier, took hold of his shoulders. He gave him a gentle shake then several pats before stepping back, a smile on his face. "Very good, very good indeed." He gave Xavier a nod before picking his cup back up and taking a drink. "I will be very pleased to acquaint myself with this woman," he said, lifting his cup in salute to Xavier.
Xavier laughed but returned the gesture. "That, Your Grace, I cannot give you any assurance on."
The older man laughed knowingly, and they spent some time speaking on those things Xavier wrote about in his letters. He'd known from the start, his choice was either declare Io someone who meant everything to him and whom he'd protect with his life or to make no such statement and let people believe he only defended her because she was his wife. He'd given it some thought before he wrote his first words to the king. And he'd chosen correctly in taking the first approach. Io wouldn't understand if she heard people thought Xavier behaved toward her because he was obligated to. His commitment was beyond the royal decree that created it. That pleased this man greatly, so was likely the feeling held by the majority of the royal council.
"… an aversion to fish, you say?" Brock said, more able to ignore the servant who entered the room than Xavier was.
"She hates it, would rather starve than eat it," Xavier said as the servant cautiously approached until Brock waved him over.
"Hmm…" the high lord said, taking the proffered note and pulling it close before opening and reading it. "His Majesty dislikes fish as well. So did his father."
Xavier started at that. "No, I have seen the king eat fish?"
"Have you?" Broke asked, handing the note to Xavier. "The name you asked for. I would approve of this choice."
Xavier struggled to pick a topic to stick to. Had he ever seen the king eat fish? And why did it matter in the least? And as he opened the note, he couldn't recall what name he'd asked for or even why?
"Sherralon is as good as anyone in assuring proper manners are taught and used at court."
Brock's words reminded him. He'd asked who'd be suitable to teach Io the more formal protocols of court. He'd never bothered at home because she wouldn't have used any of them. Here, she'd have little choice, and he wanted her confident when she was among peers. "Then I will seek him out and see if he has time to instruct the Lady Io."
"He will," Brock stated flatly, and Xavier knew when he was being dismissed.
Io started to think if she shook her head at her husband again, it would fall off. "No, Xavier. I do not want the lessons."
"Io, you will have to go to court, to the palace, stand in front of the king and all the nobles."
"And if I must, I will do that much. But I need no lessons on how it is done." Io folded her arms over her chest and crossed the room to stand at the window. She'd be gone from here for the day if not for Xavier's unexpected return this morning. For the last two hours, she'd listened to him tell her she'd begin lessons on how one behaves before kings. He'd not heard her any of the times she tried to tell him she didn't need to learn these things.
"Io, these lessons are something every young lady takes. Mind, at much younger ages but…" Xavier stepped up behind her, and as it did so often in this house, his touch, anyone's touch, made her skin crawl. She wanted to run, to not be in this house any longer.
"You think I do not know what young ladies are taught and when?" Io snapped, pulled free, and squeezed past him. "I do not want lessons, Xavier. I want you to respect that."
"And I do not want you to struggle or..." Xavier said, a slight edge to his voice.
"I do not know which offends me more that you think I will or that you pretend any of this is about me." Io turned and faced him. "Why do you not speak plainly? You fear I will embarrass you. That is why you insist."
"I do not fear it, Io. I told you already, I know it will happen. You are not one to conform or..."
"I am not, so why do you insist I do?" It was an effort to not run when he crossed the room to her, but she held herself and simply maintained the distance between them. "Do you regret not taking a lady as a wife?"
"Io," he growled. "You know you are lady enough, and you know, too, that lady or not, you are all I want. I have no regrets and I will not stand and have you doubt me." The warning was clear. "I will have you, no matter how you are. But these people will not be so accepting. Should you offend them..."
"I did not ask to be among them. If they did not wish to be offended, they should have left me where I was." Io lifted her hand to
rub at her shoulder, which throbbed now. "I will not change what I am to suit them, for no change I make will be enough, And with every change, I will stop being me."
"I am not asking you to change, Io. I am asking you to add a skill to all the others you already have. You will take these lessons. Master Sharralon has trained people to be presented at court for decades."
"I do not need to be trained," Io yelled. "I am not some panting bi—"
"Io," Xavier yelled back, cutting her off. "No one suggests you are. Sharralon will be here tomorrow, and you begin instruction."
"By your command?" she asked and glared at him.
"I will not make it one, unless you force me to," he said as he stepped up put a hand in the small of her back and pulled her closer. "Everything will be all right, Io. A few lessons." He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her face and his lips found only her cheek. He kissed her anyway then turned and, collecting his gloves and cloak, left the house.
"Io," Ian called, coming to stand beside her as she turned to look out the window. "Why so discontent? You know Xavier makes the same demands on everyone who comes with him to court. I am surprised he did not insist several of your men attend the lesson with you."
Io turned and looked up at the man. "Do none of you hear any more? I do not need the lessons. I do not want them." Io shook her head again then pushing past the knight, headed toward the door. She was done with this house for today. If she could keep away until the moon rose, it wouldn't be enough.
She managed to avoid Master Sharralon for two days; on the third, her own escorts refused to be party to her plans to again leave the house, likely because Xavier sent a note telling them to make sure she didn't. So she sat and half listened to the gaunt man explain why it was so very important to move at the right pace and to speak with the right tone and all the things Io had learned when she was a child. The difference was, then, she believed any of it made a difference. She knew now that it was nothing but an act, put on by people who feared their true selves wouldn't gain them things they wanted, status, power, wealth. And she knew, too, those with such things would judge everyone else, even if they'd the most perfected ability to genuflect. So she sat, slumped, undignified in the chair, letting the man speak and demonstrate, and when he'd run out of things to say and the patience to try to get her to cooperate, he got on his little pony and rode away.
