Nights are cold

After a while, when the Duke understands that I've ended my talk, he gets up. He walks to the chimney and takes a chunk of wood, and he stokes the fire.

«You want me to show to the court that I appreciate my bride, is it right?» he asks, gazing at the flames.

«I don't have much to offer you in return, but I will make it worth the bother,» I say. I look at my fingers, hoping that my words aren't the last I will say in this cold palace.

When my shoulders are covered with a heavy shawl, I wince, surprised and frightened. I haven't noticed the Duke's steps until the last moment, and I couldn't move away from his tender hands.

«How did you know that I ordered the maids to keep you warm?» he whispers to my ear. His breath hits my skin, and his hair tickles my neck when he moves away. I turn to him and open my mouth to deny, to say that I had no clue. At the last second, though, I change my mind.

«It was rather evident,» I say instead. «The servants are always running around with covers and mantles, and they don't let me go out if I'm not wearing socks. I don't think that every noblewoman has maids as attentive as mines.»

«You've lived in a warmer place, so you have to be careful,» he continues.

Not just that, but I've also often complained about drafty windows and cold rooms, in Polis. Here the temperature is lower, and my position is different. I would have suffered the cold if the servants weren't so careful all the time. I'm not used to taking care of myself, I've always had my loyal servants for that.

In the end, the Duke did think of me. Even if he didn't visit my room nor send any message, he didn't forget me. He even inquired with the servants about my activities.

What other naughty things did I say this afternoon? Oh, the lady in waiting!

«There is another thing,» I voice. «I said that you're still selecting a lady in waiting for me. I don't need anyone special, as long as she doesn't talk too much. Still, I shouldn't stay without one for too long. It will taint your grace's image.»

«Wasn't I thoroughly considering the matter?» he replies with a smart grin. So, that maid hasn't forgotten to mention that part as well. I'm not allowed even to breathe without the Duke knowing about it. I clench my teeth, repressing the annoyance that rose inside me.

It's better not to show it, but I still have to try to get rid of the dozen little spies.

«Also, I feel troubled that my servants report to your grace about my every move!» I complain. «I'd like to have some privacy. I won't keep secrets from your grace, I promise. There's no need to have your spies continuously surrounding me.»

«They're not my spies,» he chuckles. «They're just servants of the palace.»

«Is that so?»

«Now that I have time, I'll take care of every matter I was forced to postpone regarding my Duchess. Is it all right?»

«Will you have time, though, Duke?» I challenge him. He didn't have time to even greet me once, in a whole week! How can I believe he'll behave differently now?

«Are you free tomorrow, Duchess?»

«I don't have any commitments. After today, I'll avoid gatherings for a while.»

«I'll introduce my aids to you, and we will look for a lady in waiting. Is there anything else I forgot?»

«I don't think so,» I murmur, and I turn towards the bed. I'd like to go sleeping, now, but I was the one that asked the Duke to stay. Will I anger him if I ask him to be quick?

It has been a long day. After the tea party, I've passed the evening fuming and depressing. After discovering that the Duke won't punish my long tongue nor forbid me from attending other events, all the energy that pushed me for the day is gone.

Maybe, I should approach the Duke first. This way I'll finally reach the bed. At the thought of feeling that weird pain again, I shiver. I already told him I won't reject his advances, but, at the same time, I don't want to bleed and hurt again. I can't escape from it, though. Maybe, I shouldn't have asked for a weekly meeting. Seven days are barely enough for me to get back in shape. Once every two weeks would have been better.

However, what's said is said, and what's promised can't be taken back.

The Duke notices my concerns, but he misinterprets my thoughts.

«It's cold, go to bed,» he orders.

I follow his order, sighing. Whatever, as long as I reach that bed.

«I've seen your drawings,» the Duke says while lying down next to me. «They're... interesting!»

I smile politely, remembering the stains I did on the canvas. I've never had time to draw, before, so I didn't dare to picture landscapes or animals as other noblewomen do. Since I couldn't be sure of the end result, I passed the time mixing random colours and then cleaning the brush on the canvas. The end results, rather than impressive, were terrifying. The first one looked like a nightmare, literally.

«I draw my soul!» I exclaim with a smile that I almost forgot I had in my pocket. «The turmoil of the war and then this marriage that saved my life... I wanted to portrait everything in a single painting.»

«Your soul?» the Duke repeats, dumbfounded. «You're into abstract art...»

I nod, happy that he accepted my explanation without inquiring too much. Is lying to a Duke that big of a crime, though? Will the Duke cut my head if he finds out that I do not know a thing about drawing?

«I'll look at them again, tomorrow, and I'll tell you if your soul is as transparent as you.»

I flicker, ignoring the beat my heart skipped. The Duke didn't figure everything out in a blink, right? And he won't take it to heart, will he?

«I can paint your grace's soul as well, if you let me understand it,» I utter, pretending to be as calm as when we started talking. I should have changed the topic, but I realised how ridiculous I am only after finishing the sentence.

The Duke turns to me with a somehow annoyed expression. I swallow, realising that I've gone too far with my teasing. This damn tongue! I hope he won't cut it just because I can't stop saying dumb things...

I turn to the Duke, facing him. He's staring at me with a grimace that breaks my heart in pieces.

«This prisoner didn't mean anything bad,» I stutter, clenching the sheets and opening my eyes wide. «I'm sorry for using the wrong words. This prisoner won't dare ever again to...»

I'm trying to soothe this man's temper, but he's not reacting the way I hoped. His face is worse at every word I say, so I eventually stop talking and sit in bed. My lower lip is trembling, and my eyes are tingling.

What will happen to me, now? I should have just admitted that I don't know how to paint, but I didn't want him to look down on me.

I'm such a failure as a wife: I have to talk about clothes and jewels, I don't know how to embroider nor paint. I don't play any musical instrument. All I can do is dissert about politics and administer a state.

I'm not even good at apologising, judging from the Duke's reaction.

«What did you just say?» he asks in a cold tone. He's staring at me so sternly, that my stomach contracts painfully and my back starts to sweat.

I swear I can feel death's breath on my neck. I've been doing so well for a whole week that I've forgotten that my life depends on this man's mood.

«This prisoner is sorry. I'll do anything your grace deems proper to right my wrongs,» I continue with my head bowed. I can just hope he won't hurt me too much, but it looks useless. This man is furious, I can feel it even without turning.

I swallow, and my eyes fill with tears. A single drop slips on my cheek, but luckily is on the side the Duke can't see.

I steal a glance at the Duke. He's still fuming, and my words are highly ineffective. I don't know how to ask for mercy. I've never ever seen someone doing so. It didn't happen so often in Polis. And even when it did, it didn't change my final decision.

Maybe it's different when a wife asks his husband to spare her? I don't want to die for such stupid reasons as a bunch of crappy paintings and a few naughty words.

Should I try to kneel down and beg for my life?