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That smile. It turned him from charismatic to utterly beautiful in seconds flat. And it felt to her as if she’d been given a gift…a glimpse of the man behind the hard, stern King. A warmer, easier kind of man.
But then the smile vanished.
As if it had never been.
CHAPTER FIVE
Tiberius didn’t reallyhave the time to spare to acclimatise his new queen to the outside world. There were too many other, more important things to do. Yet the thought of one of his aides or guards accompanying her on her first venture beyond the palace walls was unacceptable.
He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of her sitting in his study the night before, white-faced and delicate, hesitantly telling him that her brothers had hurt her.
He’d known, maybe subconsciously, that something like that must have occurred—especially given her terror of him. But her confession, veiled as it was, had filled him with the most intense rage on her behalf. That anyone had dared lay a hand on her, so fragile as she was, was incomprehensible to him. Though he knew men did such things and worse every day.
That it had been her brothers, her family, who should have protected her and cared for her, made it even more egregious, and he burned to know what they’d done to her and why her father hadn’t stopped them. But he’d bitten down on the questions. He hadn’t wanted to upset her further with intrusive questions, especially since his knowing wouldn’t change anything for her.
But when he’d told her he would protect her he’d meant it. Her brother and her father would pay. And if anyone else laid a hand on her they would answer to him.
Bullying behaviour was unconscionable in royal princes and most definitely in a king, and he would never be like that. Never.
Her first time outside the palace walls would be with him, so he could watch over her—as he should his queen. Also, she would be at his side for their public appearances, and he needed to see how she reacted, so that if she was overwhelmed he’d know what to do and have some solutions. The eyes of the world’s press would be on them and, as he’d told her, he wanted their marriage to at least look as if it was solid.
Taking her outside himself would also kill two birds with one stone—he could get her used to being out of the palace and also to being with him. It would not do for her to flinch away if he put an arm around her, for example.
Eventually, a few days after their dinner together in his office, he found a couple of hours free in the late afternoon.
He hadn’t seen her since then because he’d been working from dawn till midnight every day, wrestling with the thorny issues of getting his country back on track. The damage the Accorsis had done to the Kasimiran treasury was considerable, though not as bad as he’d expected, so that was something at least.
He sent word to Guinevere to meet him by the doors to the back gardens, and when the hour came he strode down the echoing hallways, expecting to see his queen waiting promptly outside the specified doors. Only she wasn’t.
It took him a moment to realise that the tension in his muscles and the accelerated beat of his heart was anticipation.
For the past two days he’d been good, and he hadn’t thought about her once. There hadn’t been room in his head for her anyway. But late at night, when he finally left his study for bed, he’d come into the royal apartments to find a tantalising sweet scent hanging in the air, one that made his body go tight with want.
He’d ignored it, thinking that hard work and late nights would mean he was too tired to think about his new wife. Sadly, he’d been wrong. That delicate scent would greet him and instantly he’d start to think about her, naked and at his feet—which was a terrible fantasy for him to have about a woman who’d been hurt as she had.
It had frayed his temper, put him on edge, and had helped him with his sleep not at all.
Which meant that by the time Guinevere finally arrived, five minutes after the time he’d specified, his mood was dark and irascible.
That she was in another of her pretty flouncy dresses, this one soft pink, with full skirts and a heart-shaped neckline, only added to his annoyance. Her hair was completely loose, in a cotton-soft cloud around her head and down her back, and he was conscious of an unbearable need to wrap those curls around his fingers and tug lightly. Then maybe not so lightly…
No, that was a mistake. He should not be thinking any of this.
Unlike the previous times they’d talked, when she had been either white-faced with fear or angry, today Guinevere smiled at him as she approached, her deep blue eyes lighting up and something deep inside him stilled.
People smiled at him—of course they did. But not like this. Not as if they were pleased to see him. As if his presence gave them joy.
He was a leader, and his advisors, his guards and his army respected him. Feared him. Admired him. But they never looked at him the way she was looking at him…as if he was simply a man she liked and liked being with.
‘I know, I know,’ she said as she came towards him. ‘I’m late. Sorry. I was trying to find a ribbon for my hair and couldn’t, and then…’ She trailed off, noticing the scowl on his face.
‘I have limited time,’ he snapped. ‘I do not have it to waste, waiting for you.’
She reddened, her smile fading. ‘I said I was sorry.’
The loss of that smile angered him even more. Because he knew he was being unreasonable, that she probably had had enough of men being angry. But knowing he had no one to blame for that except himself only made it worse.
Other people’s feelings had never concerned him, and his own he kept under strict control. Emotions were irrelevant, his father had always said. The only thing of any importance was Kasimir and his duty to it, and everything else should come second.