“Do you want that?” He reached around and pointed to the beautiful silk fabrics. “You could make anything you like from it. Or I can have someone make something for you.”
“Oh, that would not be necessary,” I said quickly.
I felt Branford’s fingers grip my chin.
“I want to do that, Alexandra,” Branford said, sounding annoyed. “That is our reason for being here—so I can buy things for you.”
His gaze and tone softened somewhat as he looked down at me. Then his half smile appeared.
“I have never had a wife before, Alexandra,” he said playfully. I looked up at him and saw the tyrant had been immediately replaced by the handsome boy again. “Do not spoil my fun as I spoil you.”
I had not really considered that he would get joy out of spoiling me though when I thought about it, there was logic to his reasons. I had already found how much I liked to do things for him, such as making his tea and shaving his face. It made sense that he might find pleasure in buying something for me. I nodded slightly, and Branford released my chin. I turned back to the fabric and touched it with my fingertips.
“It is very soft,” I said, “and pretty.”
“Then it is yours,” he said simply. “What is your favorite color?”
I turned my head and was instantly caught up by his eyes as he looked at me, awaiting my response. Without thinking, I said my favorite color was green and then felt my face blush.
“Green?” Branford questioned.
“Yes.”
“Why green?” He looked down at me and used his hands to pull me back against his chest. I blushed and looked away.
“No reason,” I said quietly.
“Tell me!” he demanded as he turned me around to face him.
“It is, um…the color of your eyes,” I finally told him. A slow smile crept across his face as he turned to the merchant and bought all the green fabric on the cart, silk or otherwise. The merchant’s eyes grew wide as Branford deposited several gold coins in his hand, and he promised to have the fabrics sent up to our rooms.
Branford was still smiling to himself as we walked away, and I was glad to have found something that seemed to please him. He wrapped my arm around his and we started back toward the castle gates. When we came around the last of the merchants’ carts, Branford asked me if I wanted to eat something before he took me to Ida. He unexpectedly stopped short.
Branford’s hand tensed over the top of my fingers, gripping them tightly as his feet abruptly stopped moving forward. I had been looking off to the side and did not immediately see what caused him to stop so quickly. I glanced at my husband’s face, his eyes dark with unbridled fury as the tyrant returned, and the handsome boy disappeared. As I turned to see the object of his ire, I was met with the malicious grin of Lady Kimberly with her sister, Nelle, at her side. I suddenly could not breathe and felt a hard lump lodge in my throat, preventing me from swallowing as well.
“Sir Branford. Alexandra.” Kimberly sneered my name, and her voice sounded like warm butter. I looked to the ground, vaguely aware that she had addressed me with no title. Her sister stepped from around the last cart and stood at her side, smirking. “I have not seen you since the reception.”
I felt Branford tense, not just in his arm where I held him, but I could feel it all the way up his shoulder, and I could see it in his jaw when I looked up to his face.
“Kimberly, Nelle,” Branford spoke slowly, enunciating each and every syllable. “You have exactly one chance and one chance only. Retrieve whatever possessions you have acquired, find yourself transport, and get the hell out of my kingdom.”
“Oh, Branford.” Kimberly sighed and rolled her eyes. “Always so dramatic. We were only having a bit of fun—”
“Let me be perfectly clear,” Branford said, his voice turning low and deep. His words had not been loud, but there was a distinct murmur of hushed voices and the movement of bodies pressing closer to hear what was being said. “If I encounter you after midday tomorrow, I will have you both beheaded. Understood?”
“Branford!” Kimberly’s hand went to her breast and her mouth dropped open. “Why in the world—”
“No one”—Branford suddenly yelled, causing me to flinch. He squeezed his hands into fists and dropped his voice low again, each word separated and whispered through his tight, clenched jaw—“no one…insults…my…wife.”
The sounds of the hustle and bustle of the market around us had completely ceased, and I could have sworn even the wind chose that time to stop blowing about the field. Kimberly’s eyes went wide for a moment before they narrowed at me, and she laughed out loud. It was a hard, cruel sound, and it sent shivers up my spine.
“Your wife.” Kimberly sneered and rolled her eyes again. “You know as well as I that Princess Whitney gets what she wants in the end. Do you really think—?”
“Your opinion in this matter is not of any interest to me,” Branford said with a growl. “I want you out. Now.”
“Your mother took us in.” Kimberly smirked at him. “She promised to—”
“My mother is dead!” Branford screamed at her, and she flinched, taking a step backward. His voice dropped back low. “Not all of her decisions in life were good ones. You rely on my good will now, and my patience is gone. Now apologize to my wife and get out.”