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‘Trust me,’ Tomas murmured. He had a king in his pocket. ‘It can be done.’
‘In that case, m’lord, I’m available.’
Claudia chose that moment to lower the hood of her dusky blue travelling cloak. The material was a coarse woollen weave, nothing special. Her face, however, could stop a man’s breath. Unless Bain had been living under a rock lately, he would know who she was. ‘Thank you, Innkeeper,’ she murmured. ‘I didn’t catch your name.’
‘Bain, m’la—Your Gr—Royal... Princess... God.’
Claudia smiled. ‘That’s quite an escalation, but don’t worry about it. I’ll write my name out in full for you for tomorrow.’ She nodded towards Tomas. ‘His too.’
Bain bowed and nodded at the same time. ‘Thank you, Princess. I’m just going to...get you better wine.’
‘Don’t bother,’ Tomas told him. ‘You can expect a team of guards to roll in soon. They’ll station themselves around the tavern tonight. You might want to warn people.’
Bain pulled out a set of old-fashioned door keys. ‘Let me just make sure the second bedroom is open for your use.’
‘Plausible deniability, how thoughtful,’ murmured Claudia. ‘Thank you so much. Your service is impeccable.’
‘It would have been even more impeccable had we known you were coming. Will any other guests be joining your wedding party tomorrow?’
‘They will,’ said Claudia smoothly. ‘Discretion is required.’
He closed his eyes and ran his hand across his face. Squinted at them from between his fingers before dropping his hands to his sides. ‘You’re still here.’
Tomas sighed. ‘Yes.’
‘Discretion it is.’ Innkeeper Bain made it through the door and shut it firmly behind him.
‘We should marry here. At the inn,’ declared Claudia.
‘It’s more of a tavern.’ She hadn’t seen the downstairs bar yet.
‘It’ll be a wedding venue before he knows it.’
Tomas couldn’t help but smile. ‘That’s just cruel.’
She headed for the table and unwrapped a block of hard cheese from within a waxy cloth and took a knife to it. ‘It’s soft cheese I shouldn’t be eating while pregnant.’ She nibbled an edge. ‘I think this is Cheddar.’ She slipped a slice between a bread roll and bit in, before loosening her cloak and draping it over a chair by the fire. ‘This is a nice room. Lived in. Not quite as nice as my tent, but acceptable.’ She took another bite and studied a faded painting on the wall.
She hadn’t always lived as a princess. She didn’t mind taking her meals in Lor’s kitchen. He needed to keep reminding himself of those facts or he’d go mad thinking that she’d never be satisfied with his version of normal. ‘I’m a plain man,’ he warned.
‘You’re definitely not that plain. Possibly a little deluded, though.’
He tried again. ‘I like plain things.’
Her mouth was full but her eyebrows spoke volumes.
‘You, of course, are not plain at all,’ he added quickly. ‘What I mean is that I don’t want to live a fancy life. A simple one will do, and I’m not sure that’s going to suit you.’
She took her time swallowing her food. ‘Because I’m a princess, and princesses can’t live simply?’
‘Yes.’ Why did he feel as if he was eleven years old all over again, telling her she couldn’t be a falconer? He’d been wrong about that. Maybe he could be wrong about this too.
‘Have I been living lavishly at the fortress?’ she asked. ‘Redecorating? Insisting on formal dining? No. I eat in Lor’s kitchen as often as you do.’
‘And then there’s your princess clothes,’ he offered heavily. There was absolutely no arguing about those. ‘Can I afford to keep you in clothes? I’m thinking no.’
‘My official clothing requirements are covered by the Crown. All part of the job description for the Princess Royal. But when I come looking for you at the aviaries, how am I dressed?’
‘Simply.’ He had to admit that.