“And neither is this. Nothing untoward has been going on between Magdalena and I, and I’m frankly surprised by your suspicions. You sound paranoid, Constanta. You need rest. Let our hostess show you the best of her hospitality and then decide how you feel about her.”
I stiffened at your familiar tone, wondering how long she had been “Magdalena” to you, if you murmured her name devoutly to yourself as you read over her letters full of strategy and policy and blood. I knew nothing about this woman except for her reputation as an iron-fisted ruler, and her appreciation of your insight into the control and rulership of local provinces. I didn’t even know how you came into contact with her. Just another one of the many details of your life you guarded jealously, forbidding me the indecency of a simple inquiry.
“We’ll discuss this later,” you said, more gentle as you kissed my temple. “Put on a smile for the staff and do your best to be civil to our hostess. She may surprise you yet.”
I was not permitted another word of argument, because the doors were opening and the thin light of a crescent moon was streaming in. You had timed our arrival perfectly, just at the moment the sun disappeared over the horizon.
I swallowed hard and accepted your hand as you helped me out of the carriage. As we walked arm in arm towards Magdalena, I felt like I was the favored child being presented with an adopted sibling she never knew she had. My head was hot and swimming with thoughts. How long had you been speaking so intimately with this woman, and what did she know of you, of us? Were we to be friends, or was she a prospective victim? Is that what you had meant by “a gift, if you want it?”
My flurry of thoughts came to a screeching halt as Magdalena dropped in a low curtsey in front of me, close enough that I could feel the swish of her skirts. She was smiling at me, her pupils wide and delighted, but her eyes kept flicking over to you.
“My lady Constanta,” she said, her voice rich and musical. “I have heard so very much about you. It’s my pleasure.”
I bowed to her in return, stiffly. She was greeting us both like equals, although you no longer carried your old title of nobility. Who exactly did she believe you were?
“The pleasure is mine, your excellency. Although I’m afraid I haven’t heard much about you.”
I shot you a look, pure poison on ice, and you smiled back at me tightly. That would earn me a reprimand later, but you would not raise your voice to me in the presence of others.
“My lord…” Magdalena said, turning to you. Her voice faltered. Of course it did. I knew very well what she was seeing for the first time: crow-black eyes above a strong, imperious nose and a mouth shaped like a declaration of war. The only thing that ever prevented you from looking fearsome was the amused sparkle in your eyes, more present now than I had seen in years. The hollow at the base of Magdalena’s throat fluttered as she took in an unsure breath, then she lowered her eyes and dropped into a flawless curtsy.
It tortured me, how perfect she looked. I wanted to pull her behind the carriage and drain her dry.
“I’m going to direct the servants,” I muttered. I grabbed my skirts and tramped over to the coach, where Magdalena’s staff were passing my trunks and parcels between themselves. I made a show of ordering them around, knowing that at least I was allowed this luxury in Magdalena’s home, and did my best not to look back at the two of you. Ultimately, I wasn’t able to manage.
I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see you bring Magdalena’s gloved hand up to your mouth and press a lingering kiss to her knuckles. You clutched her hand close to her chest and said something softly, too quietly for me or any of the staff to hear. Magdalena’s lips parted in soft surprise, her eyes gleaming.
I wanted to crawl between whatever was blossoming between the two of you and live there. This was my home too, I wanted to shout. I had earned my right in your bed and I hadn’t been consulted on inviting somebody else in, no matter how beautiful she was.
The servants skittered around with downcast eyes, working as efficiently as a hive of bees. I didn’t have to spend much time directing them, and soon I found myself back at your side, looking into Magdalena’s bright eyes. The fabric peeking through the slashes in her sleeves and the stiff ruff at her throat were as white as death.
“My honored guests must have a tour of the manor,” she announced, and clapped her hands briskly. “Then, dancing and dinner.”
The servants scattered like a school of fish, running this way and that to throw open doors and make preparations. I had never seen a household so efficient. You arched an impressed eyebrow at Magdalena and she smirked back demurely.