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She paused for a moment, debating the wisdom of discussing this with him again. But she had to try and make him understand—for both their sakes.
‘You’re working too hard, Tiberius,’ she said at last. ‘You’re not allowing yourself any time off or even time out. If you burn yourself out you’ll no longer be able to do much of anything.’
‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that, hmm?’
Guinevere held his darkened silver gaze. ‘You’re not going to disappoint them, Tiberius. You do know that, don’t you?’
He frowned. ‘Disappoint who?’
‘Your parents. They put a lot of expectations on you, didn’t they?’
‘No more than any other parent. And no more than was necessary.’ He eased her head off his shoulder gently and sat up. ‘Being King is a high-pressure role—so, yes, of course the expectations will end up being heavy.’
That edge was back in his voice again, and she could have kicked herself for making things awkward. That wasn’t what tonight was supposed to be about.
She shouldn’t have asked difficult questions, shouldn’t she?
‘I understand,’ she said quickly. ‘And I’m not attacking them or criticising them. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be strong all the time…that you don’t have to push yourself constantly.’
‘You’re very invested in my wellbeing.’
‘Of course I am. I’m your wife and you matter to me.’ The words came out sounding a lot more emphatic than they should have. A lot more.
He stared at her, studying her face as if it was map he was trying to read. ‘Guinevere,’ he said at last. ‘Our marriage is not like other people’s, remember?’
She frowned, not understanding. ‘What? What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ he went on gently, ‘that we did not marry for love.’
‘I know that,’ she said, unsure why the declaration should hurt. ‘What has that got to do with you mattering to me?’
‘I don’t want you to expect things from me that you will never get. For example, you also matter to me—but not more than Kasimir. The country always comes first.’
It was the answer she’d expected, and yet the moment he said it the hurt inside her grew a little more, cut a little deeper.
‘I know that,’ she said reflexively. ‘I’m not asking you to put me ahead of the country.’
‘No, I can see you’re not. I just need you to know that should you want more from me, you will never get it—understand?’
She wanted to ask him what he meant by ‘more’, but she had a horrible feeling she knew already. Love. That was what he meant, wasn’t it? Love would never be a part of their marriage, because he was already in love with Kasimir.
You can’t ask him to put you ahead of the country.
No, she couldn’t. She could never be that selfish. Yet a part of her desperately wished she could.
Why? Why does he matter so much?
But she thought she knew the answer to that already. It was an answer that had been steadily forming itself deep in her heart for the past three weeks. That grew every time she spent time with him…every time he held her in his arms. That wanted more and more of him until she knew that nothing would ever be enough. That had her dreaming of him, and staring at him, and had her heart beating fast whenever they met.
You’re falling in love with him.
Of course she was, and she hadn’t known because it had never happened to her before. Nevertheless, she knew what this powerful current was, a tide that responded to him as if he was the moon and she the sea, rushing in when he was here, only to retreat when he wasn’t.
It was love.
She was in love with her husband.
CHAPTER ELEVEN