Lady Evangeline Ashford's Arc

Chapter 2 of 1

The feast ended late. Guests drifted from the hall with wine on their breath and questions on their lips. Evangeline heard the whispers as she passed. A marriage sworn but not sealed was a marriage half made. Vows meant little if no one believed the union real. She had won her land and her name today. She would not let a rumor of a hollow marriage strip it back. Gareth found her at the top of the stairs. He carried a candle and said nothing about the whispers, but she saw he had heard them too. "They'll talk until morning," he said. "Or until we give them nothing to talk about." That was Gareth. He named the problem plainly and left the rest to her. "Then we settle it," she said. She took his free hand. The chamber held the great marriage bed, its carved frame dark and tall. Curtains of red and gold hung from the posts. Their names were worked into the canopy above. Evangeline touched a carved heart at the footboard. This bed had been made for them alone. Gareth set the candle down. He crossed to her and cupped her face. "You're sure," he said. It was not quite a question. "I chose you under the arch," she said. "I choose you here." He kissed her. She pulled him closer by his shirt. His hands found the laces at her back and worked them loose. The gown fell. She laughed against his mouth when his beard scratched her cheek, and he smiled without pulling away. They sank onto the bed together. The frame held steady beneath them. There was no fear in it, and no duty. Only the two of them, and the warmth they had earned. She traced the scar along his ribs, and he learned the shape of her. The candle burned low. Outside, the court slept and the whispers cooled. After, they lay tangled in the rich covers. Gareth's arm was heavy across her waist. "Sealed," he said, dry as ever. She felt his chest shake with a quiet laugh. "Blessed too," she said. "By morning, no one will doubt it." He was quiet a moment. "They already believed it," he said. "They just wanted a reason to stop asking." Evangeline watched the candle flame lean and steady. She had spent her whole life proving her claim to things. Tonight she had proved nothing to anyone but herself, and it was enough. The marriage was whole now. No rumor could unmake it. Then, from the chest at the foot of the bed, came a sound. A dry, sharp crack. Evangeline sat up. The straw inside shifted. One of the three eggs was moving. A second crack followed, louder than the first. "Gareth," she said. He was already reaching for his knife. The whispers were behind them now. Something new was breaking free.