Rachel Rossano - The Theodoric Saga by The Crown of Anavrea

intensity indicated children. After a few moments, they pattered out of range.
    What if it hadn’t been just the children? The thought made his breakfast sour in his stomach. Death for them both would be the only answer. His father made it clear that Labren’s life was worthless. Eve’s would be even less valuable. The king wasn’t one to wait patiently for nature to manifest whether or not she was with child. Hanging or simply the sword would deal with the problem.
    His middle cramped. They had to escape notice. Eve must live.
    Fingering the curling ends of Eve’s braids where the pins were giving way, he wondered how it would look down around her shoulders. Only once, when she was drying it after washing, had he seen it in all of its golden waved glory. The scent of heather whispered to him. Someday, hopefully soon, he would be able to thread his fingers through the loose strands...
    Pulling his thoughts up short, he tried to guide them back to the danger they faced. His plan of speaking with his brother and offering his services to the Secret Service as Labren Marcus no longer seemed plausible. Ireic intended to offer him the crown. Labren frowned. He didn’t want it.
    What kind of a king would he make? He hated bureaucracy and politics, much preferring straight answers and honesty. Formality and rank annoyed him. And, fashion was a joke. Well over half of the government was corrupt and self-glorying. Besides, Eve wouldn’t fit among them. The thought of Eve putting on airs, spending hours on her toilet, or flirting with noblemen evoked a mixture of laughter and disgust. She would try to adapt. He knew she would, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her trying. He loved her just the way she was.
    He had never desired his birthright. Trained his whole life to claim it, he hoped to convince Ireic to keep it. Even with Ireic on the throne, his life with Eve wouldn’t be completely untouched. Children would become a pressing necessity to secure the royal line and stability for the nation. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation with Eve. She still shied away from the topic or any possible reference.
    She shifted slightly. A passing flutter of breath against his cheek made his heart thump wildly. No, Eve’s needs and desires were quickly taking priority over anything else. She was his. She needed him. And, more importantly, he needed her.
     
    “I need to shift my leg.”
    Eve jumped. Labren’s arms tightened protectively around her. One hand caressed her shoulder in slow circles.
    “Sorry, I did not mean to startle you.”
    Thoughts waded through the fog in her head as Eve struggled to remember where she was. The unique smell of her husband surrounded her. It felt too small to be the shack where they had stayed…she remembered. Thick walls closed in as the cottony air clogged her mouth.
    “It’s okay. We are safe.” Labren’s soothing voice met her rising panic. His lips brushed her ear as he spoke. “I am here,” he reassured her. She clutched at his arms, but he evaded her hands.
    “All I am doing is moving my leg into a better position.”
    His voice made it easy for her to follow his movements. Finally his arms returned to their places around her, but this time his face was even with hers. The warmth of his breath brushed her cheek. As though sensing her wariness, Labren asked, “Are you comfortable?”
    “Yes,” she croaked, barely above a whisper. Her mouth tasted disgusting. His hand in her hair and the warmth of his lips on her forehead distracted her from the gritty nastiness in her mouth for a moment.
    “You seem less agitated.” His chest vibrated beneath her palms.
    “How long have we been in here?” She leaned into his warmth and wondered if his nightly fever was back.
    “I would guess about five hours, give or take a half hour.” He shifted his body weight again. In the process, his leg brushed hers. Suddenly aware of the stuffiness of their box, Eve’s heart rate