Stephan's face darkened further, the muscles of his jaw tensing restlessly as his brothers held him back from venting his own spleen at the impertinent insults of Lady Margaret. Why he had ever let her seduce him in the first place was beyond his own reckoning. As lovely as she was, she was as dangerous as a snake in the grass, lying in wait for its next victim. He had been young then and inexperienced in the ways of love. She had taught him a thing or two, but her claws had proven too sharp even for one such as him, and now, it seemed there was nothing left between them but jealousy and enmity. His anger cooled a little, a swell of pride at the way Marianne stood her ground and put the other woman in her place. A small smile even touched his lips at his wife's retort, but that did not release Lady Margaret from blame. He waited until his wife had left and was well out of earshot before pushing his brothers' arms away and stepping forward to make himself known.

"Though I do not know why, my mother values your friendship. It is for her sake and hers alone that I will allow you to remain at court, but hear me and hear me well....If you ever so much as mention my name again in relation with yours or dare to approach the Crown Princess, I will see to it that you are banished from court, and that is only the beginning. You do not want me for an enemy, Lady," he told her quietly as he stepped closer. "Do you forget who I am and who I will become" I am warning you. If you do not desist, it will be your undoing." He made no mention of the queen, though it could be assumed she would hear of what had taken place here.

It was one thing to be set down and openly snubbed by the Crown Princess, so new to the court; it was quite another to then realize that her ill-judged attempt to damage the young woman's confidence had fallen on other ears as well. Margaret only just recalled herself enough to curtsey to the Prince as he addressed her, the angular line of her jaw clenching as he laid down for her the line she had crossed in foolish pride. "Your words were not so harsh when first you knew of your marriage plans," the lady said stiffly, daring to feel insulted, despite how precarious her position had suddenly become. "Have you some other trick in mind to taste when your bride becomes her mother" No woman will ever warm your bed as I did ....your highness."

"Those days are over and shall not come again. I dare say, you think a little too highly of yourself, my lady, and presume too much. You have aimed high and missed the mark. I suggest you set your sights lower. My heart and my bed belong to another. Good day to you, madam," he replied, as coldly as he could manage, though he felt a prickle of pity for the poor Lady Margaret, who had obviously had high hopes for herself at court where his good name was concerned.

It was a fine thing, to be the King's mistress, and it seemed that had been her aim in seducing the Crown Prince in his youth. Margaret could never have imagined that Stephan would actually fall in love with his wife. Holding her head high, despite the humiliation of the situation she had walked herself into, the lady curtseyed low to Stephan, stiff and hot with embarrassment for her open failure to gain rank through her own advancement.

Maksim winked down at her. "Never fear, lady," he chuckled. "Find yourself an old, rich widower and retire to his estate, that's my advice."

Stephan eyed his brother, the expression on his face alone advising him to leave it alone, that enough had already been said - he did not need to add salt to the wounds. He said nothing more, only offering Lady Margaret a polite incline of his head before pushing past to search for his wife and smooth over any ruffled feathers that might be out of place there.

With Maksim ignoring the warning in Stephan's expression to make a point of his own, Felipe was the one who fell into step beside his eldest brother, finally cracking a smile as they stepped out of the banqueting hall. There were plenty of smiles on hand to indicate which way the princess had gone. "She's not as wet as she looks, your wife, is she?" the youngest prince asked in amusement. "Or have you been giving her advice on how to handle the painted butterflies?"

"Even a rose has thorns to protect itself against being picked at," Stephan replied, telling his brother in his own way that his wife had the wits and the tongue to defend herself if pushed into doing so. "Margaret will find her a formidable foe if she continues this folly. It will not end in her favor, I can promise you that. You and Maksim seem to be enjoying this a little too much, I dare say," he added, with a sidelong glance at his little brother.

"Part of me would rather like to see that happen," Felipe admitted, meeting his older brother's glance without guile. "Why shouldn't we" It's good to know that we have a sister who can keep her place. Better still that you're prepared to draw blood with words to do the same for her." His rare smile flickered into sight briefly. "I daresay Maksim will be on his best behavior with her after their little interlude today. I do not know what was said, but he looked as though she'd reached into his chest and squeezed those little hands around his heart."

Stephan came to a sudden halt, as he turned to face his youngest brother, blue eyes flashing again with carefully and just barely repressed anger, this time at his own flesh and blood. "What little interlude" Do I need to warn my own brother regarding my claim' Is a wedding not enough to warn off the predators" Must I worry about my own flesh and blood trying to claim what is mine?" he hissed in a voice an octave low enough to betray his anger.

Felipe raised a brow at Stephan's fury held in check. "You know this court as well as I do," he pointed out. "And you know that if Maksim had not tried, it would have been another. Your little wife has fought off suitors to both of you today, and been witnessed doing it. That, and I think she gave Maks a shock he won't get over in a hurry." He chuckled at that. "Something tells me I am going to like having a sister."

"So long as you remember she is your sister and the future Queen. She is to be honored, respected, and revered, as is her right and her privilege. I will not have my own brothers undermining my marriage. Is that clear?" he said, needing to say it, even if it was to the wrong brother. He had no fear of Felipe daring anything so bold as Maksim or Margaret had done.

"It is very clear," the youngest of his brothers assured him with a nod. Felipe had no open interest in women or marriage; he itched for battle, real battle, and did not want to make a widow just to have a wife. He could understand why Stephan was quite so protective of his own wife, though. "If I may, it looks as though the princess sought refuge in the snow."

"Good," Stephan replied, his anger fading nearly as quickly as it had appeared. He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "There will come a time when I will have need of my brothers and I would prefer we were friends, not enemies," he told him, promising him without saying it outright that if Felipe were loyal, he would one day be rewarded by having his own desires granted, if Stephan had his way. He offered his brother a fond smile, before turning to see what it was Felipe was going on about. "Snow?" he echoed, curiously.

"Just make sure I don't die in my bed," was his brother's answer to that unspoken promise. Felipe had no ambition beyond proving himself worthy to lead men, and not enough vain pride to have his head turned by the ambitious men at court. In the wake of the disaster in Francia, those ambitious men had gone to ground, in any case. He nodded toward the side doors that led out into the garden, and the windows that looked onto it, where a good many curious, laughing eyes were watching whatever was happening outside. "The snow, brother."

The children came to an uncertain stop, glancing at one another as the princess laughed. What they might have done, however, was forestalled by the familiarly gruff tones of the High King from the doorway. "And what is this?" Philippe demanded in amusement. "My son and heir defeated by an army led by a woman?"

Blushing bright red, embarrassed to have been caught playing by her father-in-law, Marianne dropped into a deep curtsey, heedless of the snow soaking into her stockings and skirts.

Philippe chuckled, poking Stephan's shoulder with his stick. "Arise, sir knight, you've won a reprieve."

Stephan, on his back in the snow, feeling it soaking his clothing coldly and wetly, was having a hard time keeping a straight face at his father's intervention. "Can you not see I am wounded, sir?" he asked, prying one eye open to peer up at his father with a silly grin on his face.

"Not wounded, sir, but dead," Marianne interjected with a quiet laugh as the children giggled behind her.

Philippe didn't even try to hold in his own grin, pleased to see a little more life injected into his court. There was too much emphasis placed on scandalous affairs and intrigue for his liking - innocent fun like this was worth any rumors about his apparent senility. "Death by snowball," he mused. "That is a new one on me. Mayhap you should take this expired knight to the leechers, instead of seeing him to his bed to nurse."

"I am not dead, but merely wounded and in need of a good nurse," Stephan countered from his place on the ground, before stumbling to his feet and shaking the snow from his tunic and jerkin. His cheeks were flushed with cold, but he otherwise looked in good health, a silly grin on his face that easily chased away the anger he'd felt at Margaret's rudeness. "Sire," he said, offering a respectful bow to his father. "I ask your permission to retire to my quarters to tend to my wounds."

"Have you need of a good nurse, my noble son?" the High King asked, more than happy to play along. "Should, perhaps, your brothers bear you hence on a kingly stretcher to have your wounds bound" And which of these noble foes did strike the mortal blow, I wonder?"

"Oh, I am quite sure I know which of my foes struck the mortal blow," Stephan replied, narrowing his eyes meaningfully at his wife, though he could not wipe the smirk from his face. "I believe I can walk, sire, if my lady would care to help," he added, that pointed look still aimed at Marianne.

Still bowed low in her curtsey, Marianne caught Stephan's look with a barely stifled giggle, wobbling a little where she was crouched in the snow. "I am yours to command, my lord," she managed, finally rising to dare a look at the High King's face.

Philippe chuckled at the pair of them, waving his hand. "Go then, and see him to his nursing bed," he declared, his own playful streak a mile wide. It was easy to see the father he had been to his sons when they were boys in that moment. "While I ennoble your fine army of loyal protectors."

If only that fine army of loyal protectors could protect her against Lady Margaret's poisonous gossip. "I should hope my good brother will prove himself in battle better than he has here today," Stephan said with a pointed look at Felipe, though his expression betrayed his continued amusement, as he drew the gloves from his hands and tossed them back. "Shall we, wife?" he asked, offering an arm to Marianne, blue eyes sparkling with good humor.

"As you wish, husband." Her hand laid itself atop his, sharing the biting cold in her fingers as she giggled once again, her cheeks flushed as much with the exertion as with her embarrassment at having been caught at play by the High King himself. A glance to Felipe brought her laughter bubbling up again - the youngest prince was glowering comically at his brother for the comment on his lack of assistance in the snow battle.

Stephan wasn't overly concerned about the prickle to his brother's pride. He'd have plenty of chances to prove himself in the days ahead, especially if the Coimbrans continued their incursions into enemy territory. He frowned a little at the coldness of Marianne's hand, but said nothing of it until they were well out of hearing range of any courtiers. "Your hands are frozen," he remarked quietly, with obvious concern.

Away from the laughing gossips that would, no doubt, send word of the silly battle through court before the evening came - and the ambassadors would enjoy writing their reports about it, too - Marianne relaxed a little, dropping her hand from his to wrap her fingers at the crook of his elbow. "They will warm," she promised him, ignoring the burn in her flesh as her skin began to do just that. "I was having too much fun to stop."

"You should have accepted my offer of gloves," he scolded gently, but there was no anger in his voice. "I saw the altercation with Lady Margaret," he told her quietly as he led them toward the quarters they shared at the winter castle. "I'm sorry you had to endure that, but you handled yourself well. I'm sure she won't bother you again."

"I should not have risen to her words," she said quietly, shaking her head, ashamed that there had been any witnesses at all to her exchange with a woman who had been trying to make her feel small and uncomfortable since she had arrived in Pomerania. "But I would not give her a victory, even in her own mind. I am too proud of loving you to allow her that."

"It's not your fault," he told her. "If she makes trouble for you again, you must tell me, but I do not think she will. I think she knows her place here is precarious, and she is not foolish enough to risk it. What passed between us was the passing fancy of a youth who was too stupid to see the problems such a dalliance might cause in his own future. It is your welfare that concerns me, not hers," he told her quietly as he led her into their quarters where they could speak in private. He paused a moment to ask a servant to draw them a bath and fetch some tea before leading her inside.

Shivering now as the full weight of cold water soaking her skirts and stockings made itself known, Marianne gratefully allowed herself to be led into their quarters, moving to the hearth without needing to be told. "She frightens me," she admitted very quietly, her voice low enough not to reach the ears of the servants who began to move about the room, preparing the bath for them. Heedless of the impression she gave, she hiked up the back of her skirts to encourage the heat from the fire to warm her legs. "It is not that I do not trust you, dearest, for you know I do. But I cannot help fearing that, beside her, I am small and dull, and have so little to offer. I am easily overlooked in your father's court."

Cold as he was himself, his first concern was for his wife. He took a blanket from the bed and carried it over to wrap around her shivering shoulders as she settled herself in front of the hearth. He paused a moment to rub her shoulders, a small frown on his face as he listened to her concerns. "I do not think you need worry, love. The line has been drawn in the sand, as it were, and she made no attempt to challenge you. I have duly warned her that if she so much as looks at you the wrong way, I will have her banished from court, and that is not a threat she will take lightly. No, Margaret may be arrogant and ambitious, but she's no fool. Besides," he continued with a smile she could hear in his voice if not see behind her back. "I believe you made a memorable impression today on everyone, including my father."

"And Felipe wants to grow up far too quickly," he remarked. But wasn't that always the way of things" Stephan was glad his parents had at least made sure he had a childhood before the weight of responsibility was thrust upon his young shoulders, but he had not been indulged nearly as much as his brothers, the second son in particular. "You, my dear, are a genius when it comes to my brothers. You see things we have been blind to most of our lives," he said, privately berating himself for it. His brothers' welfare was as much his responsibility as it was the King's.

"I do not have the fondness and closeness of years to cloud my eyes with love," she told him gently, reaching out to stroke her fingertips against his cheek. "There is nothing bad in them, not that I can see. Just that neither one seems to have found his place yet. There is time to help them do that." Leaving her wet stockings on the arm of her chair, she rose, unpicking the laces at her back now. Despite the lingering shyness she felt, she knew she needed to warm up, and a bath would do that far better than shivering by the fire.

He agreed with a quiet, thoughtful hmph, reaching now to help her unpick the laces of her dress before the water turned cold. "Let me help," he said as he worked the wet laces at her back loose with deft fingers. "You needn't worry that we will be interrupted. Unless there is an attack on the castle or some other disruption, we should not be expected again until dinner."

The color on her cheeks now had nothing to do with the temperature, and everything to do with the sensation of his fingers working her gown loose. "Do you expect an attack on the castle?" she asked him softly, tilting her head back to look up at him with warm mischief in her eyes.

"Not hardly," he replied, which was his way of telling her that they had the rest of the afternoon to themselves to spend it however they wished. He drew the fabric away from her shoulder to brush his lips against the back of her neck. "We can even play a game of chess if you wish," he said, though a game of chess was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He thought their time would be far better spent in other ways, but for starters, the first thing that was needed was a bath to warm them from the cold.

She laughed softly, even as her eyes closed at the touch of his lips to her neck. He knew her in ways she did not even know herself. "You would trust me not to cheat?" she asked innocently, rolling her shoulders to ease gown and under-gown down into a puddle of damp, cold fabric at her feet, leaving only the chemise that was only there to protect the garment from her skin.

"My sweet Marianne, do you not know that I trust you in all things?" he asked, turning her to face him and tipping her chin upwards to meet his lips. There were no other words necessary really. His kiss said everything more he had to say in regards to that question.

She shivered as he kissed her, nuzzling close for a long moment, never content with just one kiss, just one touch. She had heard that this longing would pass with time, yet she hoped it never did. There was no better way, in her mind, to show her prince how much she loved him than with this intimate sharing of everything that she considered to be his. Her hands ran down his back, coming away damp and chilly, and she drew back, raising her brow at him. "You need to warm up, love."

"You are doing a fine job, my dearest," he told her, kissing her again, the affection and intimacy between them going a long way to warm his heart, if not his limbs, though that was not long off either. He smiled, stepping back to take her hand and lead her toward the bath that had been prepared for them, helping her remove the chemise before helping her step into the water.

He could have led her anywhere and she would have followed, though the bath was somewhere she was infinitely grateful to find in her immediate future. The water was steaming still, promising to flush her skin as he helped her in, her hands rising to her hair. She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder to him. "You do not believe we will be sought out until dinner is called?"

"No, love. I am quite certain," he replied. He had spent a good portion of the day in council chambers with the High King and his advisors. He had earned a few hours alone with his wife, and it had not gone without notice that they were still newlyweds. If a child was expected of their union, they would have to be left alone long enough to produce one. "Would you rather I set a guard outside our door to be sure?" he asked with a teasing smirk.

She laughed, shaking her head as her hands moved to slip free the pins that held her hair in place. "If you were to leave me alone as I am, I might never allow you to share my bath again," she threatened him with an equally teasing flicker in her eyes, bending to set the pins safely aside as her hair tumbled free over her shoulder.

If he had to pick only one feature he loved more than any other it would be that long fall of hair, as soft as silk between his fingers, as warm and vibrant as a smoldering sunset. Oh, there were other features he found attractive - her eyes, her lips, the soft curve of her body - but it was her hair he found entrancing again and again, as evidenced by the way his gaze followed the tumble of it over her bare, slender shoulders. "An army of Coimbrans could not tear me from your side," he replied quietly, before shedding his own clothing.

Now she was sure she would have time for her hair to dry, she sank down into the water, sighing contentedly as the heat spread through her. Twisting, she smiled, watching him undress with eyes that were slowly growing used to knowing that it was her right to look when she wished to. "If an army of Coimbrans were to enter this room, I do not know that they would do anything but declare you the living embodiment of their god," she murmured affectionately.

That made him laugh at the very ridiculousness of her statement. "Do you think so?" he asked, shedding his clothes without shyness and striking a pose that, were it not so comical, might have actually appeared worthy of a stone sculpture. If anything, it was obvious he was cold, but not so cold that his desire for her was not apparent.

"I truly do," she smiled her fond smile for him, for perhaps the first time enjoying the leisure to let her eyes wander over his form without shyness or blushes. She had touched every inch with hands and lips; what was there to feel shame in looking at him"

"Make room for the future king," he warned, with a grin as he broke off the posing to join her in the tub, sinking down into the soothingly hot water with a contented sigh. "Oh, that's lovely," he said quietly.

"At your command, your highness," she teased him in answer, shifting to make space for him in the tub. It was her turn to gather him into her arms, fingers gently stroking against his chest as her lips brushed his temple. "I was not too rude to Lady Margaret, was I?"

"Perhaps it is," she murmured quietly, her smile deepening as she looked away. "I know I would not win such a challenge, but ....I cannot help but imagine t'would be a-a wonderful way to spend the afternoon remaining to us." Her fingers stroked down the line of his neck as she dared to raise her eyes to his once again. "Am I too forward, in wanting you so?"

"I do not think so. I am fortunate to have a wife who is not afraid to speak her mind. I should not tell you this, but it was years before my parents felt affection for each other. We are lucky in that way, Mari," he told her, turning enough so that he could tenderly touch her cheek with the back of his hand. "I was worried you would not find me attractive, that things would be awkward between us. I have tried to be kind and patient and loving, but the truth is I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone before. Is it too forward of me to say so?"

"How could I not have loved you?" she asked him through her soft smile, her cheek tilted into his caress with warm instinct, learning not to be shy of the way she seemed to crave his touch. "How could I not want you? From the moment we wake, I miss your closeness, my dearest heart. Would that we could disappear together for some few years ....yet I do not think even that would be enough to calm the longing I feel for you."

His expression softened at hearing such sweet words from the woman he loved. It really did seem that he just keep falling deeper in love with her as each day passed. How could he not when she said such things as this" When the tenderest and softest caress from her could touch his heart and soul" What was there he could say to such things that could even come close to describing his feelings" There were no words for such things. "We may not be able to disappear together for long, but we can make the most of what little time we have together," he told her softly, touching his lips to hers, warm and soft and full of longing.

For perhaps the first time, she did not wait for his kiss to touch her lips before she reciprocated, rushing to meet that kiss with her own as her arms wrapped about him. She had meant every word she said, yet she had not quite come to the point of telling him what was truly in her heart - that though she had said she loved him on the night of their wedding, she believed that feeling to have been only a shadow of what she felt now. With him or without him, he was always in her heart, never far from her thoughts. She truly could not imagine a night not spent by his side.

It's said that actions speak louder than words, and if that is the truth, then there was no mistaking the love and desire they both felt for the other. Was it a match made in heaven" If their passion for each other was any proof, then it seemed the Goddess was indeed smiling on their union. Encouraged by his bride's reaction to his kiss, the fire of passion burning brightly between them, Stephan kept his promise by wasting no time in claiming her for his own yet again. He was gentle and loving and passionate in the taking, careful to make sure he gave as much pleasure as he got, always putting her needs before his, even in this.

No doubt there were some who would make fodder of the hours they spent together in his chambers, some to shame the princess, others to try and make headway in undermining the prince, but such gossip would not get them far. At the heart of the Pomeran crown was love, and though love matches might seem openly scorned by many in this land, there was a reverence held for them that rose higher than any other. Loved and loving, Marianne cared nothing for the noise she made in expressing her tenderness, her passion, breaking into quiet giggles as they lolled together, finally, in the tangled sheets that covered their shared bed. "I am laid low in love, my dearest heart," she teased him affectionately, nuzzling a kiss to his shoulder.

"Well, you are laid, anyway," he teased back with a dimpled grin, using the slang that he'd heard bandied about but was too much of a gentleman to use much himself, especially in the company of a lady. He drew her close against him, wrapped in his embrace. There was no question that they had duly warmed each other since their earlier foray in the snow. He sighed contentedly, but refused to surrender to sleep as she seemed to think he would, challenged to stay away even when his body was feeling contentedly drowsy. He turned to brush a tender kiss against her brow, affectionate and protective. "I love you with all that I am, my sweet Marianne. My heart, my soul, my life belong to you."

She giggled once more, not understanding the slang he had chosen to use, though its meaning was fairly obvious. Curling into his arms, she nestled close, content to lie still and listen to the sound of his heart beneath her ear. His words made her smile, warming her through in a way she would never have believed possible without him. "I hope I will give you fine, strong children," she murmured softly, comfortable in his arms. "Sons and daughters to love you as much as I do."

"I am sure you will, but for now, I am content with just you," he admitted. "The court might be anxious for a child. My mother might be anxious for a grandchild, but I am sure children will come in time. For the first time in my life, I feel content, happy even, and it is all because of you," he told her softly. "And if you are already with child," he continued, touching his fingers to the flat of her belly that showed no hint of a child. "Then I will be content with that, too."

"I would hope that you would be joyful, more than content, with the prospect of a child," she said softly, easing up to lean against his chest, blue eyes meeting blue as her damp hair curled over her shoulder to tease at his skin. "Though to all the world, children are my purpose, in my heart my purpose is to love you. I will do that however I may, and do my best to keep you content all the days of your life."

"Our children will be conceived in love and it is my sincere wish they will know only love all the days of their lives," he said, lifting a hand to touch her hair, to curl a silken strand of it around his slender fingers. "I do not only want a wife who can give me children. I want a companion, an equal, a friend and a confidante and a lover. You are all these things, Mari. One day, Goddess willing, you will be High Queen, but most importantly of all, you are my wife, my beloved, my truest love."

"I will happily be all these things to you, Stephan," she promised him, leaning close to brush the tip of her nose about his in a gentle circle. "I love you. Indeed, I think that perhaps I was wrong to call it love on the night we were wedded. What I feel now so surpasses that emotion as to make it utterly negligible in the shadow of my heart."

"There are no words," he said quietly, touching her cheek before his hand strayed into her hair once again to savor the silken softness of it that he so loved. "My love for you grows with each day we are together. My love knows no bounds where you are concerned. But these are only words. I can only hope that you believe me when I say my heart beats for you alone."

"They are not only words," she said quietly. "To one who has never been told she was loved until you ....they will never be just words. And they do not need to be spoken to touch my heart. I see them in your eyes, I hear them in your laughter, I feel them in your touch. In all my life, I have never felt loved. Not until you opened your heart to me."

He frowned a little at the thought that she had never felt loved until now. He'd had a family who had loved and supported him all his life. To think she had not shared in such a feeling from her own family made his heart ache for her. "And I will continue to love you all the days of my life. You are my dearest heart. I did not truly know what marriage could be, what love really was, until I met you. That is the truth, Marianne. I only hope I can continue to make you happy, to show you love until I no longer draw breath. You deserve to know you are loved, and I would rather die than ever lose your love."

"If you die before your time, I will never forgive you," she told him quite firmly, a certain fierceness in her eyes as she looked down at him. "I expect you to die in your bed, surrounded by your loving family, many years from now. And even then, I will be heartbroken until I may join you again."

"I do not plan on dying, love," he told her with a soft smile, touched by the frank fierceness of her words. Though it was certainly a possibility, given his rank and position, he was not in a hurry for death, not when he had so much worth living for, starting with her. "I plan on living a long life and having as many children as you would give me," he said, his eyes soft and warm with love as he met her gaze.

She laughed tenderly, brushing her lips to his. "Then we will fill the castle with children," she promised him, never once even considering the dangers of childbirth in the warm glow that came with the thought of seeing him holding his children.

The dangers of childbirth were something they'd deal with when the time came. If he thought about it too hard, he might never touch her again, and neither of them wanted that. "We will, but there's no hurry. The Goddess will bless us in due time."

"I do not ever mean to rush a moment of my time with you," she promised him, assuring her husband that she was truly in no hurry to conceive. She was young yet, with plenty of time ahead of them to plant and grow the children they planned together. Her fingertips stroked against his temple tenderly. "She has already blessed me," she murmured. "She gave me to you."

"She has blessed us both in that regard, dear heart," he reminded her, smiling up at her while his fingers continued to play with her hair. "Lay beside me. We have a little time yet before we are summoned to dinner." Not because he wanted to sleep, but because he wanted to feel her close for a little while before they had to make another appearance.

She knew herself well enough to know that she would likely doze in his arms, thus losing her own challenge, but Marianne did not mind so much the thought of losing to her Stephan. She brushed her lips against his shoulder, sharing her smile with his skin, settling close in against him with a low, deeply contented sigh. "We did lock the door, did we not?"

"It matters not. No one will bother us until the evening meal," he assured her with a brush of lips to her forehead as she settled down beside him. He tugged at the blankets, pulling them up over them both, just in case anyone did decide to intrude for whatever reason. Even the servants knew better than to disturb them when they were alone like this.

Little did he know he was following a pattern laid down by his father and grandfather before him; that of love and contentment in his personal time to balance the weight of monarchy that would rule every hour of the life ahead of him. The Goddess seemed to watch over the High Kings, ensuring them peace where they needed it most, in the quiet moments that were so treasured. With Marianne by his side, he was walking forward with that peace already made, no matter the contrivances of the court. Let them gossip and sneer behind their hands; in time, they, too, would notice the lack of the same peace in their own lives while Stephan and his wife prospered. With a dozen children, or only one, they would know happiness together, for as long as life endured.

((Aww, so sweet! As always, much love and thanks to Stephan's player!))