In Which Jadin's Wife Is an Evil Genius

December 14, 1172

After making sure his wedding tunic was nicely folded and tucked neatly into the drawer--just because he didn't want to begin the morning after his wedding with a lecture from one of the maids about being careless with expensive fabrics--Jadin sent a smile Xeta's way and crossed the room to prod at the fire. The party hadn't finished too long ago, but Xeta had fallen ill shortly after their first dance. He hoped she was all right; he didn't remember his mother or his stepmother or his sister ever being so sick. "Feeling better?"

"Much, thank you." She returned the grin as she wrapped one of her long brown curls around her finger. He loved those curls. Most women took to wearing their hair up after they married, but he hoped she didn't. He wasn't sure if he could bear the thought of those curls trapped in some bun or knot. "I guess I just needed to get off my feet for a while."

"Well, that's good--and sorry about the room, by the way." It wasn't his messy old room--and thank God he hadn't had to clean it--but it still wasn't a room worthy of the future Lady Veldora. His father and stepmother were preparing another room for them elsewhere in the castle, but there hadn't been enough time to get everything in order, so Jadin and Xeta were stuck in Sir Searle's old room for the time being. At the very least, it was clean.

"It's fine." He wasn't sure if she meant it, but he didn't want to press her. The last thing he wanted tonight was to make her admit that she could have married someone a lot higher up than him.

He pushed the topmost log to the back of the hearth and watched as it tumbled to the bed of ash beneath. The wedding was over and done and here he was, still not sure how he felt about it. He was the eldest son, his father's heir, and he'd always known he would have to marry some day, and at least he'd been lucky enough to marry the woman he loved. But he was only sixteen, and barely at that. He was flighty and stupid and couldn't keep it in his pants for the life of him. It was only a matter of time before he hurt her.

"Jadin?" Her voice was of one who might have read his thoughts. The hairs on the back of his neck pricked. "Can I ask you something?" Resisting the urge to tell her she just had, he nodded. "Do you think I'm the one?"

He put down the poker and made his way to the bed. She looked so pretty in that lacy nightgown that he didn't think he could lie to her if he tried--good thing he didn't have to. "Honestly? Yes."

He took a minute to get comfortable, then glanced to her side of the bed; it was a relief to find her smiling. "You know... I know you like to feel up chambermaids behind my back. Everyone knows that. But you can keep doing that, if you really can't help yourself; I'm okay with not being the only as long as I'm still the one."

Well, now he was definitely sure she was the one. He took her hand and kissed it briefly before setting it back upon her middle--only a few inches above his baby. "I love you. I want to be good to you. I can't make any promises, but I'm going to try."

"I know you will." Her fingers twitched, her new ring catching the candlelight at a blinding angle. "I'm going to try to be good to you too--or, better than I've been, at least."

Better than she'd been? Jadin frowned; it was an odd thing to say on one's wedding night. "What do you mean? You don't think I'm mad at you for getting pregnant, do you? It's just as much my fault as it is yours."

She smirked in agreement, but sobered again. He knew that pregnant women could act a little strangely, but Xeta was taking that to a whole new level here. "Yes, but remember that talk we had just before the first time? When you told me you hoped whoever I married was you?" He nodded. Her fingers interlocked over her stomach as she continued. "Well, I realized then that while you did love me, it would probably never occur to you to ask--not that I think poorly of you for it, but it's just who you are. So, I figured that the only way to get you to the alter was to get pregnant. That's why I kept coming over you all those days in a row until I finally started feeling a little different; I wanted to be sure.

"Well... that and I did want to see you." She added the last bit with a smile, but it quickly vanished, a glaze of fear welling in her eyes. "You don't hate me, do you?"

It was a bit of a shock and it took him a minute to comprehend, but he ended up shaking his head. He didn't want her to ever feel afraid of him--nor was he even angry. "Actually, I'm flattered that you thought me trap-worthy."

"Oh, that's a relief." She allowed herself a long exhale before she collapsed into a slight giggling fit. "I just hope no one is feeling too badly about all this--Lorn or my mother or poor Lyssie. Maybe let's not mention this to them. I don't want them to feel like my pawns."

"Your pawns?" He sat up and scuffled toward her, lacing his hand behind her back and around her shoulders. "You mean... you planned the whole chain reaction? You got yourself in a position to tell Eilyssa, who you knew would tell your mother, who you knew would tell Lorn, who you knew would march up to my father and insist that I married you?"

She nodded. Laughing, he pulled her closer; it was nice to know that his children would be just as clever as they were good-looking. "You're an evil genius!"

Grinning, she snuck a kiss onto his jawbone. "I hope you don't mind."

"Nah--I like evil geniuses."

"Then we should be in for some fun times." Slyly, she lowered her hand to his loincloth and fiddled with the ties. He felt the blood in his veins changing course as she eased the garment down his legs. He hadn't been expecting that tonight--she'd been ill, and the damage was already done--but then again, how much of this had he been expecting? "I hope you didn't wear yourself out dancing; I think the baby needs some more freckles."

NEXT CHAPTER: