Page 33 of The Dark Prince
“Our lord has deemed you lady of this castle, whether you feel up to the title,” Bessy cut over me, shooting me a sharp glance.
“And the king showing up and shoving the princess under my nose? And the men who attacked us here? And killing that poor man in the hall? Was that all planned as well?” I practically shouted at the poor woman, but it was all getting to be a bit much.
Bessy’s lips flattened into a straight line. “Lord Tyr knew the king was determined to see him married to Princess Aella. He foresaw … complications. He is likely deeply upset you had to witness him … working.”
My jaw dropped even as she dumped a pail of water on my head to wet my hair. “You’re saying he knew the king would do all of this? But why? Were those men sent to stop me from coming here?” I coughed, then went limp as I sank back against the tub in shock. “Oh gods. They tried to kill me. Tyr took an arrow to his shoulder that was meant for me.”
Bessy used my momentary weakness to start dumping oil over my hair and working it into my scalp. That done, she moved onto scrubbing the sweat and dirt from my skin.
“My Lord Tyr does nothing halfway,” she noted succinctly, not giving me an inch to argue. “He does what he thinks is right with the best intentions, even if it seems foolhardy.”
The oil in my hair smelled like vanilla and almonds, and I was trying to wrap my mind around the fact that the king had a hit out on me. And Tyr had foiled it. Tyr had bled for it. And the man in the entrance had tried to warn him, had tried to tell him.
It was likely Tyr already knew, though. Or did he?
“No, none of that now,” Bessy tutted, grabbing my arm and giving it a good scrub. “My lord decided. He’d only hate himself more if he walked in and saw you in a state. He feels bad enough about it all already.”
“How can you tell anything about him through the mask?” Even I knew I was whining.
Bessy snorted. “You already know the answer, don’t you?”
I did. Anger was easy to spot. His muscles all tensed, and his back went as straight as a rod. His movements were stiff, and his ire radiated from him in waves. When he felt guilty, his large shoulders would stoop slightly. It was as if he could make himself seem smaller and less threatening than he truly was. The very few times he’d been relaxed were the best times—when he’d be explaining the significance of some distant snowdrift to me or just riding comfortably together, his arm around my waist.
I realized I missed it.
And his eyes, of course. He said everything with his eyes.
“Don’t you fret. My lord always gets his way with the king,” Bessy reassured me. I couldn’t help the next question that flew out of my mouth.
“It’s true then. He’s the king’s bastard?”
Bessy tutted, seizing my hair and wrestling it into submission with a thick yet intricate braid around my head.
“I think my lord needs you desperately, dear. Just be patient.” Bessy stood and backed away, holding up a large towel. She helped me wrap it twice around my body, the soft wool covering me from my breasts to my knees.
I opened my mouth to ask her about Tyr’s mask, but a large crashing noise came from the door and Bessy whirled around, covering me with her body. Bessy’s face went blank as she went to one knee. I spun around and clutched the towel to my chest only to see my lord husband standing at the door, golden eyes wide with surprise and his chest heaving like he’d run the entire way here. Blood still covered him.
We stood staring at each other for a long moment until he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Bess,” he grumbled, “I instructed you to help her toherrooms, not mine.”
Bessy gave a small bow, lifting her chin to meet his gaze head on. “Begging your pardon my lord, but as your lady wife, these are her rooms.” Her lips twitched as she fought to keep her face solemn. “Besides, these rooms are closer to the kitchens to bring up the hot water.”
Tyr’s eyes narrowed. “Are they now?”
Stray rivulets of water ran down my legs to pool at my feet. The chill in the air wrapped around my bones and squeezed.
“I’ll just help my lady—”
“Leave.”
Both Bessy and I froze at the stern command. He glowered at us both. “I will assist her with dressing.”
Bessy shot me a look. One eyebrow arched suggestively. She picked up her skirts and scampered away quickly. In moments it was just my husband and me.
I sneezed, which broke the spell we were under. Tyr shook his head and moved forward, picking me up and setting me down on the edge of the bed. “I will have to send for some clothes. I had everything set up in your own suite of rooms.”
“Oh,” I said faintly, not knowing what else to say. Was I to be a wife in name only? Someone to take the heat off so he didn’t have to marry the princess?
