'What was deliberate?' she asked, knowing full well what he meant.
'Changing my orders,' he answered. 'Well?' he prodded when she didn't immediately answer him.
Her shoulders slumped. The man was cunning all right. 'It was deliberate,' she admitted.
'Why?'
'Because this is my household and my staff,' she returned. 'And I took exception to you interfering.'
Nicholaa walked across the room, then turned around to look at him again. 'I don't interfere with your duties, and I don't believe you should interfere with mine.'
He took a step toward her. 'You've got it backwards, woman. This isn't your household, and it isn't your staff. Both belong to me now. Furthermore,' he added before she could argue, 'you will never take that tone of voice with me again.'
He hadn't raised his voice, but Nicholaa still felt as though he'd roared every word. Even Ulric noticed. He stopped sucking on the latches and stared in wide-eyed surprise at Royce.
Alice walked into the hall then, and Nicholaa thought she'd been given a blessed reprieve from her husband's sudden anger. She was wrong, though. Royce motioned the servant over, handed Ulric to her, and ordered her to take the baby abovestairs.
He waited until Alice left before turning his attention back to his wife. The look on his face was frightening. 'Sit down.'
She folded her arms in front of her. She wasn't going to back down this time. The man needed to understand she wasn't one of his servants. She was his wife, and he would treat her as such. She couldn't quite look him in the eyes, but she managed to keep her voice from shaking when she said, 'If you would like me to sit down, kindly ask me to. I'm not one of your soldiers to be ordered about. I'm your wife. You do understand the difference, don't you?'
He wondered if the soldiers training in the lower bailey had heard her, since Nicholaa had ended her speech in a near shout. She really needed to do something about her temper, he thought to himself. He was still pleased with her, though. She was afraid, yes, but she still held her ground and stood up to him.
He wasn't about to back down, either, of course. 'Sit down,' he ordered again.
The bite was missing from his order this time. Nicholaa let out a loud sigh as she took her seat. The look on her husband's face told her they would spend the rest of the day arguing. He was so stubborn. He wouldn't give up. She was going to have to let him have his way this one last time.
Nicholaa rested her elbow on the table, propped her head in her hand, and looked up at him. 'I'm ready,' she announced resignedly.
'Ready for what?' he asked, surprised by her sudden acceptance. He'd expected a little more bluster before she conceded.
'Your lecture.'
'I don't lecture.'
She started to stand up.
He clasped his hands behind his back. 'However…' he began.
She sat down again.
'There are a few things I would like to explain to you once again, wife. You've still to understand how this marriage works.'
'But you do understand?'
He frowned at her for interrupting him. 'Yes, I do understand,' he announced. 'I've given this matter much consideration.'
'Did I have a place in this consideration?'
'Of course,' he answered. 'You're my wife.'
She guessed she should be pleased he'd remembered that fact. 'And?' she prodded.
'It's my duty to protect you. You do agree with that, don't you?'
She nodded.
'And now we come to your primary duty,' he continued.
'Yes?' She found herself eager to hear what he was going to say. She suspected that it was going to be outrageous.
'It's very simple to understand, Nicholaa,' Royce said. 'It's your duty to give me peace. Now, if you would only do your duty-'
'I don't give you peace?'
He shook his head. 'There are specific rules of conduct, wife, and I would like you to understand them so we can live in peace together.'
She started drumming her fingertips on the table. Royce hadn't said a word about love or caring… yet. She tried not to be disheartened. 'What are these rules?' she asked.
He was pleased with her interest. It had been a long time coming, he thought to himself. His patience was being rewarded, though, for his wife was now ready to listen. 'One,' he began, 'you will never raise your voice to me. Two, you will obey my orders without question. Three, you will not weep again. Four, you will not allow spontaneous actions to rule your decisions. Five-'
'Wait,' she called out. 'Please go back to the third rule. Did you just tell me I cannot weep?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
He was irritated because she looked so incredulous. 'I don't like it.'
'I do.'
It was his turn to look incredulous. 'You can't be serious.'
'I'm very serious,' she answered. 'I like to weep. Not all the time, of course, just sometimes. I feel better afterward.'
Royce stared down at Nicholaa for a long minute before he came to the conclusion she wasn't jesting. The daft woman really meant what she'd said. He shook his head. He didn't have the faintest idea how to respond to such an illogical remark.
Nicholaa tried to make him understand. 'Sometimes, when the frustrations build inside me and everything gets so cluttered up inside my mind, crying makes me feel better. Now do you see?'
'No.'
She held her patience. By God, he would understand, she vowed. She didn't know why this foolish conversation mattered so much to her, but it did. She decided to take a different approach. 'Haven't you ever become so angry you wanted to hit someone?'
'I don't weep.'
'No, of course not,' she returned, trying not to smile. Her husband sounded incensed at the mere possibility. 'Still, when the anger builds inside you, when you become so furious you want to hit-'
'Then I hit,' he interrupted. He paused to give her a fierce frown. 'I sure as hell don't weep about it, woman.'
She gave up. The man was too obtuse to ever understand.
'Nicholaa, give me your promise you won't weep again.'
'Why?'
'Because it displeases me to see you unhappy.'
Some of her irritation vanished. 'Then you want me to be happy?'
'Of course,' he answered. 'We'll get along much better if you're happy.'
'What about love?' she asked. 'Do you want me to love you?' She held her breath while she waited for his answer.
He shrugged.
She wanted to kill him. 'Yes or no?' she demanded.
He stared at her. 'The question isn't relevant to our discussion.'
'Love isn't relevant to marriage?' she said, looking astonished.
Royce didn't know how to answer her. He suddenly felt very unsure of himself.
Nicholaa folded her hands on the table. She decided to tell him the truth, to let him know exactly what was in her heart. It was a little terrifying to bare her soul to Royce. She didn't know what she'd do if he rejected her. It
