“Ye can start by gettin’ off to yer lessons.”
Archer’s voice rang through the dining room, dragging them all out of their conversation. Emilie’s eyes flew to her husbands, looking directly at him for the first time in days.
The moment his gaze found hers, Emilie’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She dipped her eyes back to her food, not wanting to look his way any longer than she had to.
Aurora made a noise of dissent, grumbling under her breath that she didn’t want to get to her lessons yet. But that didn’t stop herfrom pushing her chair away from the table and stepping away from it.
Emilie did not glance up, meaning she heard rather than saw the twins leaving the dining room and scampering away. She stayed sitting that way, eyes downcast and focused on her plate.
She prodded at a bit of egg with her fork, but her stomach had soured the moment her husband had walked in. So, Emilie did not take a bite.
“Get up,” Archer growled. “We’re goin’ off the grounds today.”
At that, Emilie’s head immediately snapped up. Her eyes found Archer’s quickly.
“What do ye mean we’re goin’ off grounds?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. “Where are we goin’?”
“Thrums.”
The answer sent chills down Emilie’s spine.
“We’re goin’ to the port city?” she asked, her tone rising a bit of its own accord.
Archer cocked his head at her.
“Aye, is that goin’ to be a problem?”
Would it be a problem?
Emilie had never been into a city, and definitely not one with as bustling a port as Thrums. She had overheard the nuns talk about it on multiple occasions.
The nuns had not been fans of cities in general, as they often claimed that the more people you packed into one place, the more they ended up becoming nothing more than dens of sin.
To hear the nuns talk about it, Thrums was the worst of them all.
“I daenae think I want to go to the city,” Emilie said, shaking her head slightly in an effort to clear it.
When she’d begun speaking, she had hoped to make it high-pitched and grating. When she did that, she’d noticed that Archer seemed to shy away every time she spoke.
Her uncertainty had taken over, leeching its way into her voice and giving her little to no control over it. Instead, her words had come out as a hesitant rasp, telling Archer in no uncertain terms about the anxiety plaguing her.
“Too bad,” he growled, not giving Emilie any sympathy at all. “Ye’ll be goin’ with me. And that is final.”
Emilie gulped, goosebumps erupting over her skin. She didn’t have it in her to argue. It would be futile, and she knew that. She had heard the note of finality in his voice.
And so, instead, she would focus her efforts on steadying herself.
Mayhaps some time, just the two of us, away from the castle, will present me with more opportunities to annoy him.
Pushing herself away from the table, Emilie walked toward her husband.
He turned on his heel, immediately walking toward the front of the castle, not sparing her another glance to ensure that she was following.
“What will we be doin’?” she asked, trotting along once she reached him.
Archer just grunted, not giving her any further answer as they made their way to the front of the castle.
A carriage waited for them, sitting on the gravel drive at the foot of the steps. The door was being held open by a valet, his expression friendly as he watched them climb down the stairs and head in his direction.