The Consort, Chapter 7
forty-three days later
“Isn’t there anything else?” Cain said, pawing through the papers on his desk.
Ambrose, sprawled in a chair with his legs over the arm, sighed and flapped his arms. “There’s nothing else. We’ve gone over every report. We’ve discussed every meeting. We’ve gone over the Queen’s calendar for the next three months. We’re done, Cain.” He jumped up and leaned over Cain’s desk. “You can’t put it off anymore.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m her first minister. I know tonight’s the first night for…you know.”
Cain stared at his desktop, his eyes far away. “Why do I feel like I’m about to face the firing squad?”
Ambrose peered at him, his head cocked. “Forgive me, I just have to say this. You’re telling me that you and DG have seriously never been together?”
“No!” Cain exclaimed, his head snapping up. “We haven’t, if it’s any of your business!”
“Sorry, I just thought…I mean, I know that was the plan, but you’ve been married almost five months now and, well…things happen.”
“Some things don’t happen.” Cain sagged back in his chair, letting his head fall back and his eyes close. “I’ve never even kissed her, Ambrose. Not on the lips, anyway.” He jerked upright. “I’m not discussing this, not even with you. It’s a private matter between me and DG.”
“Of course it is. And her doctors, and Azkadellia, and Ahamo, and the court gossip train…”
Cain’s head thumped to the desk. “Take me out back and shoot me. You’ll be doing me a favor.”
“You knew it’d come to this one day.”
“I didn’t know it’d feel so…sleazy.”
Ambrose frowned. “Sleazy?”
He sighed. “I feel like I’m being sent out to stud, Ambrose. Like they do with farm animals.”
“You’re thinking too much about this.” He leaned forward across the desk. “You know, regardless of your relationship to its mother, this will still be your child. Doesn’t that make you even a little bit happy?”
It would, Cain thought, if he was even sure Ambrose was right. The fact was that he was afraid of what his role would be in this child’s life. If they had a girl, she would be heir to the throne, and if they had a boy, he’d be royal by blood, but Cain would still just be…the Consort. The commoner the Queen had married. Would their son or daughter be whisked away with tutors and governesses and courtiers to be brought up in the royal tradition? Would he even get the chance to teach it anything? Would they let him be a father?
DG will want you to be a father. She won’t let you be cut out.
He wanted to believe that, but things had a way of running away with you around here. Things you didn’t intend just ended up coming to be through sheer inertia. DG’s best intentions might not be enough.
Assert yourself. You’re no shrinking violet. Make sure you’re that child’s father, in act as well as in name.
He looked up at Ambrose. “Yeah,” he said. “It does. But it’s still weird.”
“I’ve no doubt. Just get it over with.”
He sighed again, exhausted by the anxiety. “All right. Wish me luck.”
DG was reading in their sitting room when he entered, but she immediately put her book aside and jumped up at the sight of him. “There you are!”
He nodded. “Yes, here I am.”
“I haven’t seen you all day. You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?” she said, hands on her hips.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re just as freaked out as I am about tonight.”
“I’m not freaked out.”
“Are you calling your Queen a liar? I could have you beheaded, you know.”
He arched one eyebrow. “Well, that would be counterproductive.” He took a step closer. “Besides, I didn’t think I was talking to my Queen. I thought I was talking to my wife.”
DG smiled. “Yeah, you were. And as such it’s my job to give you shit.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “A job you take seriously.” He sighed. “All right, I guess…we ought to…” He trailed off.
She nodded. “Better just get it over with.”
“I’m going to, uh…go get cleaned up,” he said, nodding towards his room. “Why don’t you go on in, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” she said, her shyness all over her posture and her face, turning back the clock and making her seem even younger than she was.
Cain fled the sitting room and escaped into his own rooms, leaning against the door once he’d shut it. Get a grip. You can do this. It’s just sex. You’ve had sex before.
Not in ten years, I haven’t.
It’s not like you can forget how. And at least you don’t have to worry about your technique. Just get the job done, quick as you can. She doesn’t want any more than that.
It’s just sex.
It’s not just sex, it’s sex with DG. My friend, my platonic friend. She just isn’t that to me, and I’m not that to her.
You can manage it. She’s hardly a hideous hag, after all. Close your eyes and think of the Zone.
God. I think I’m having a panic attack.
You’re not worried about having sex with her. You’re worried that she’s horrified about having sex with you. You’re wondering if she finds you old and repulsive and will be choking back tears the whole time.
That’s ridiculous. She doesn’t feel that way.
You sure?
Cain strode across to his bathroom, wishing there was a mute function on one’s internal dialogue, and headed for the shower.
DG lay in her bed, covers primly tucked under her arms, keeping to one side to leave room for her soon-to-be bed partner…although she wasn’t clear on whether he was going to sleep here, or just…you know, and then go back to his own room.
She was wearing a nightshirt, but had removed her underwear. She’d thought about going naked, but after trying it for a moment had decided she’d be more comfortable with her top half covered. It seemed ridiculous to be worrying about Cain seeing her naked given what they were about to do, but she couldn’t help it.
She closed her eyes and took deep breaths.
It’s okay, you can do this.
Will everything be different after this? You know sex changes things between people.
We’ll still be friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. Friends.
Friends who have sex.
Only because I want to have a baby. I need to have a baby.
He’ll be such a great father.
She smiled to herself, imagining Cain teaching their son or daughter to ride a horse, taking them hiking, giving them airplane rides. Did they do airplane rides in the O.Z.? She hadn’t been around many children here.
I’ll be lucky to have him for a…um…parenting partner.
But he has to get me pregnant first. So just relax. It’s not going to go well if you’re wound up tighter than a snare drum.
God, it’s just Cain. He knows you better than anyone, and vice versa.
And he’s about to know you in the Biblical sense.
DG shut her thoughts down with a hard snap and tried to clear her mind.
She just about had a nice, soothing mental image going of the lake at Finaqua on when the door to her bedroom opened, sending a rush of adrenaline through her body. Cain entered, dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt. He shut the door quietly behind him and padded over to the bed.
DG tried and failed to remember if she’d ever seen him without shoes on.
He stood by the side of the bed for a moment, uncertain, looking down at her for cues. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He swallowed hard, then turned around and sat down on the side of the bed. DG watched his back, which was all of him she could see. Even his shoulder blades looked tense. How did he do that?
He lifted his knees and quickly shucked off his pajama pants, then swung his legs under the covers and stretched out at her side. She had to admire the ninja-like choreography…she hadn’t gotten so much as a glimpse of him. “Are you ready?” he said.
“I’ve been ready.”
“Okay.” He turned his head on the pillow and looked at her. “You have done this before, right?” He sounded worried, as if this had just occurred to him.
She smiled. “Yes, Wyatt. I have done the deed before."
“Oh. Good.”
He went back to staring at the ceiling. DG watched his profile. What’s he waiting for? Me to make the first move?
After about thirty seconds her curiosity got the better of her. “Umm…what are we waiting for?”
He made an irritated sound in the back of his throat. “I kinda have to get to a certain state, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh. Ohhhhh,” she said, understanding. “Is there a problem?”
“No! It’s just…” He blew air through his teeth. “Nervousness is not my friend right now, and that’s about all I got.”
“Right. Well…maybe if you try and relax, and…”
“DG,” he said. “Can you just be quiet? I’m trying to think sexy thoughts here.”
“Oh,” she said, her pique rising. “Well, I’m sorry lying in bed next to me isn’t sexy enough for you that you need all these extra thoughts.”
“Don’t start that, please. Not right now, at this moment.”
“Start what?”
“Acting like a nagging wife!”
“Oh, I see how it is! The truth comes out! That is a misogynistic attitude about women you’ve got there, Wyatt!”
“How is it misogyny to observe that wives sometimes nag, and so far you haven’t and that’s been far and away my favorite part of our marriage?”
“Some marriage,” DG grumped.
“This was all your idea, you know. I was happy being Defense Minister, ordering people around and minding my own business, when suddenly out of the blue your father’s asking me to marry you.”
“Well, don’t do me any favors!” she cried, feeling his words like a stab through her chest.
“I did do you a favor, and I’m trying to do you another one now, so could you kindly piss off?”
She sat straight up in bed at that, turning to shout down into his face. “Having a child is not a favor to me!” she said. “It won’t be my child, it’ll be ours! But if it’s such a chore, maybe we ought to just forget the whole thing!” She scrambled out of bed, grateful that her nightshirt was long enough to cover her nakedness, and stalked over to the window, choking back tears.
She heard the rustle of fabric behind her as he put his pants back on, then quiet footsteps. He stopped a few feet behind her.
For a long time, they both stood there staring out the window. DG got herself under control, hoping he didn’t notice her shuddering breaths and sniffles but knowing that it was wishful thinking to imagine that anything about her escaped his notice.
“They say the first one’s the hardest,” he finally said.
“First one what?”
“First fight.”
She turned, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Well, it’s hard enough.” She saw the sorrow and regret in his eyes, and felt her own rising in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said, stepping into his arms and wrapping her own around his waist.
“Me, too. We’re just tense about this, and we’re taking it out on each other.”
She drew back. “Cain, are you…are you really sorry you married me? I know it messed up your life, and…”
He took her by the upper arms and gave her a gentle shake. “Don’t say that. I’m not sorry. I didn’t mean what I said, I was…I was annoyed.” He reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “DG, I’d resigned myself to spending the rest of my life alone. Maybe Jeb would have some kids and I’d see them once in awhile. I’d sit on the sidelines and watch you meet someone and marry and have your own life, and it wouldn’t include me. Then this amazing thing happened…you asked me to share that life with you.” He sighed. “I know I’m not what you wished for. I know that what we have isn’t…well, it isn’t what most married people have. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t good, or it doesn’t mean anything. Right?”
DG smiled and wiped at her eyes. “Right.” She grasped his hands in hers. “So…should we try this again?”
“Yeah. Come on, Mrs. Cain. Let me take you to bed.”
She grinned and let him lead her back there, pulling back the covers for her. He went around to the other side as she watched. He was a little less ninja as he removed his pajama pants this time; DG got a glimpse of his muscled flank as he slid between the covers.
“Start up the sexy thoughts,” she said.
“I’ll try.”
She waited, but another few minutes went by and he hadn’t moved. Don’t say anything. You’ll just stress him out more. Pressure to perform isn’t what he needs right now, he’s got enough.
“Dammit,” he finally swore, half under his breath. She turned to look at him. “I’m just…I don’t know. I’ve never had to do this in these circumstances before.”
“I’d hope not.”
“I must be more anxious than I thought.”
DG propped up on one elbow. “Can I help?” she ventured.
“Help? I don’t see how.”
She held back an eyeroll, and decided that this was a show, not tell situation. “Just close your eyes, and relax,” she said.
He looked at her for a moment, puzzled, then did as she asked.
DG slid closer and slipped her hand under the covers. It came to rest on his hip and she slid it across and down, between his legs; he flinched and sucked in a quick breath as she took him in her hand. “Oh,” he whispered. “Yeah, that’s…helpful.”
She smiled but said nothing, just gently stroked him. His breath sped a little and he began to harden almost immediately. A few more strokes and he opened his eyes, meeting hers. “Okay?” she whispered.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
DG withdrew and lay back down, and Cain rolled over and came to her. She rested her hands above her head and shut her eyes, trusting him to take care of her when she was vulnerable, as she trusted no one else. She parted her legs to admit him and shifted her hips to let him in, sighing at the familiar sensation. She felt his breath on her neck, his hands at her sides propping himself up, and let her body move with him, going in her mind to the beach, the waves lapping on the shoreline, back and forth, up and back.
It didn’t take long. She felt him shudder, a whisper of her name on his breath, and it was over. He sagged against her for the briefest of moments, then rolled away. DG kept her eyes closed, trying to use creative visualization to help things along,as if thoughts of Olympics swimming races might help Cain's seed find its mark. Her doctors told her that the three nights beginning with this one were her optimal times to conceive; now she could only wait and see.
Cain was catching his breath at her side. DG opened her eyes and looked over at him, and was immediately overcome by a fit of the giggles. His mouth curled into a smirk as she chortled, her hands to her mouth. “What’s so funny?” he said, a languid looseness to his voice.
“I was just wondering,” she said, her words giggle-interrupted, “what do you think the court protocol advisors would think was an appropriate thing to say at this moment?"
“Job well done?”
“Maybe, thanks? For the sperm?”
He snorted. “You’re welcome, I guess. It isn’t like they’re good for anything else.”
Her giggles turned into loud guffaws. Cain just lay there, an odd chuckle escaping him every so often, until she got herself under control. “I could be pregnant right now, you know,” she said, once she’d quieted down.
He turned his head and met her eyes. “Yeah, you could.”
“But…tomorrow, and the next night. Just in case.”
“Right.”
“And if nothing takes, then next month.”
He nodded. “Well, we got the first time over with. I won’t be as nervous tomorrow.”
“Me neither.”
He held her gaze for a moment, then sat up. “Well…I’ll be off to bed, then.”
DG nodded, feeling vaguely disappointed. “Good night.”
Cain reached down for his pajama pants and slid into them under the covers, then got out of bed. “See you tomorrow, then,” he said, smiling down at her.
“Sleep well.”
“I think I will.” He reached down and touched her face briefly, then turned and left the room.
DG curled around her stomach, wondering if anything was happening in there. She wouldn’t know for a couple of weeks, when she either would or would not get her period.
I could be a mother in nine months.
DG had thought about motherhood with a view towards wanting to participate in it at some point, but it had always seemed like something in the far-off future. She wasn’t sure why, but being here and being who she was had made her more anxious to get started. Her mother would have said that she was feeling the responsibility of continuing the line, which was probably partly true. Now that her mother was gone, she and Azkadellia were the only surviving members of the House of Gale, and Az's abdication meant that any children she might have would still be royal, but could not inherit the throne. The knowledge that if she died tomorrow there’d be no one to assume control, leaving the kingdom that she’d come to love as her own home open to potentially war-starting power struggles between various distant familial branches, had changed her worldview significantly.
As she lay there in her large, queenly bedroom, it occurred to her for the first time that her career change probably had a lot to do with it. She’d always thought of having children as something she’d like to do once her career was established…except that this was her career now. Being Queen. And she’d never be done. So if she wanted children, now was as good a time as any…better, in fact, since everyone seemed to agree that younger was better than older for the having-kids process.
Besides, as Ambrose had delicately pointed out, an heirless Queen was a tempting target for assassins, being that if someone wanted to stamp out her lineage, they had to do it before she had a child.
That was a distressing thought. The idea that someone might wish her harm wasn’t so distressing. She was used to that. But the idea that someone might wish to eradicate her entire family line was more upsetting. It was yet another aspect of her life that made her glad she’d married Cain, because she knew without having to hear him swear it that he’d die before allowing harm to come to her, or to their child if one were in the offing.
She sighed, feeling drowsiness steal over her. Well, for all the anxiety about having sex with him…it wasn’t so bad.
Hmm. He felt pretty good, in fact, even when it was so businesslike.
She spiraled down towards sleep, her last stray thoughts chasing her down.
I wonder what it’d feel like with him if it was for real.