Impossible man!
There’s no way I am going to survive being his pretend wife.
ChapterEight
The following morning,I’m relieved to wake to an empty bed. I roll to my back and stare up at the painting on the ceiling. It depicts the battle of the houses. After the historic war between House of Crimson and House of Silver a century ago, the houses split apart.
Why would Jasce choose this painting? The two houses were united before that war. Now, they’re further apart than the desert that separates them.
The door creaks open, and a young woman enters Jasce’s bedchamber and curtsies. “Come quickly, My Lady. Lady Dinah wishes to see you.”
Confusion muddles my thoughts, but there’s no time for contemplation before the young woman pulls me from the bed and helps me smooth my creased cotehardie and tidy my hair.
The woman ushers me through the corridor and into a grand study. At its center sits a wide table, where Jasce’s mother sits wearing black again.
The young woman curtsies before Lady Dinah. “I have brought Lyra to you, as you requested.”
Lady Dinah dismisses the woman with a wave of her hand, then gestures for me to sit in the chair near her. Apprehension nestles deep in my chest as I obey her.
Her cool gaze flickers over me, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I mimic her pose and try to think of something calming, like a meadow full of flowers or rain pattering against a roof. Unfortunately, the images refuse to conjure and take me away from this woman and her scrutiny.
She tilts her head, still staring, still condemning me with her eyes. “You’re tiny. You should eat more.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, she adds, “You will fatten up inside the Darhavva palace. Our cooks are the finest in all Tarrobane.”
It’s impossible to be offended when she’s talking about a body that doesn’t belong to me.
But it’s true. Lyra is on the slimmer side and her breasts do not fill a gown the way mine do, but that is no reason for this woman to insult Lyra.
“Do you know why I asked you to meet with me?” Lady Dinah asks after several moments of insufferable silence.
“No.”
“Because you’re failing my son.”
Does this woman have anything kind to say about her son’s wife?
I sigh and force myself to play this game. “How am I failing him?”
“You should already be with child.”
Poor Lyra.
First, she’s too skinny. Now, she’s expected to be a broodmare.
“It’s only been six months.” At least, that’s what Jasce said. I have no way of knowing how long he has been married to Lyra.
“Six months would have been ample time had you not allowed your husband to leave on your wedding night.” Lady Dinah crushes a bundle of dried lavender against the table. “Do you know what this is?”
“Lavender?” I answer, uncertain of where this is leading.
“It’s death. It was once alive, and now it is not. Is that what you desire for my son and his legacy?”
My unease deepens, my gaze dropping to the crushed lavender. How do I respond to a woman like her?
“Do you know what became of Jasce’s first wife?”
Jasce had another wife?
“No.”
