## The Rejection
I kissed him, pressing close, needing him in a way that transcended the accusations swirling in my mind.
Kaian didn't respond.
Where he normally would have embraced me with obvious desire, today he stood like stone. The silence was damning.
*The rumors. Madame Marcel.*
I kissed his ear, watching it flush red with each touch. At least this response proved something—he wasn't completely indifferent.
"Kaian," I whispered against his neck.
"...Claudel," he replied, his voice carefully controlled.
I tried to remove the barriers between us, but he lifted me away from the bed and set me down beside it.
"I had to check something. I forgot," he said, his voice trembling with what was clearly a lie.
"Where does an injured man go?" I asked as he backed toward the door.
"It doesn't hurt that much now. Sleep first."
And then he left me alone.
---
## The Doctor's Restriction
I hadn't asked the doctor directly, but I'd overheard enough to understand Kaian's restraint.
"The early stages of pregnancy require care," the doctor had said. "Intimate contact should be limited while treating aftereffects."
It was a reasonable precaution. But the doctor's questions had been embarrassing:
"When did conception occur?"
I'd whispered, "Every day."
At which point the doctor had cleared his throat and turned away, unable to meet my eyes.
*Every single day.* Because Kaian had been with me almost constantly except for his trips to the capital. He'd held my hand, kissed my forehead, comforted me through my insomnia. Of course it was every day.
But now, watching him refuse me, I could only interpret it one way: *He doesn't want me anymore.*
---
## The New Year Spectacle
Rowen Castle erupted in celebration.
Lord Kaian, who'd kept his wedding ceremony simple due to his duties, opened his warehouses in generous display. Sugar—precious, luxury sugar—was distributed by the fistful. Hardened lard wrapped in greaseproof paper. Cider for the drunkards.
But the real spectacle was at the moat.
Crowds gathered, shouting and pointing. Two enormous baby buffalo—black, shiny, the size of carriages—moved restlessly in the drained moat. Kaian had caught them himself. The legendary warrior Duke had charged into wild buffalo herds for his own people's entertainment.
"Look at that!"
"The Lord is amazing!"
But I felt sick watching them.
---
## The Lunch Confrontation
When Kaian brought food to my room, I eyed it with suspicion.
"This looks strange," I said.
"It's beef."
"It doesn't look like beef. It looks strange."
I'd made such a fuss about the baby buffalo—*"I won't eat something so cruel and defenseless"*—that I couldn't help but wonder if he'd deceived me.
"Do you not trust me that much?" Kaian asked, and there was genuine hurt in his voice.
"Yes," I answered immediately, confirming his fear.
He fell silent. Something flickered across his face—pain, frustration—before he suppressed it.
"Try it. You said you wouldn't eat what I caught, but you need to eat well."
"My cough has improved."
"You couldn't have—"
"No. If that were the case, I wouldn't be walking around near the moat." He offered me the meat. "Eat."
I ate, though I watched him carefully, looking for signs of deception.
---
## Kaian's Burden
What I didn't understand was what Kaian was doing in his study after I fell asleep.
He'd caught four baby buffalo—not two. Four.
When Claudel had said she wouldn't eat them, when her sensitive pregnancy hormones had made her emotional about the poor creatures, Kaian had made a decision. He'd released two in the moat as entertainment for his people. The other two he'd separated from their herd specifically for one purpose: medication.
The Herzol treatment had required a special preparation, one that only worked when derived from buffalo bile. Kaian had hunted four buffalo, endured the danger four times, for his wife.
And she didn't trust him.
The unfairness burned. *Everything I do is for her.*
But when she'd asked if he'd secretly fed her the medicine—as if he were some deceptive schemer—he'd lied instinctively. "No. How could I if I was at the moat?"
Even though the truth was far more sacrificial than she could imagine.
---
## The Doctor's Interrogation
Kaian found the doctor in his office, sitting in a relaxed posture that infuriated him further.
"How long must I endure this?" Kaian demanded, grabbing him by the collar.
"My lord—"
"When does she stabilize? When is the pregnancy safe enough that I can—" He stopped himself, releasing the doctor with disgust. "Are you a quack or competent?"
The doctor straightened his robes nervously. "The early stages are delicate. Another month should—"
"A month." Kaian's eyes were sharp, almost feverish with frustration. "She doesn't trust me. She thinks I'm with Madame Marcel. She thinks I'm feeding her lies about the meat. And I can't even hold my own wife because you've restricted—"
He stopped, realizing he was revealing too much.
The unfairness of it all burned behind his eyes. He'd sacrificed so much. And for what? To be accused? To be mistrusted?
*Another month,* he thought bitterly.
Then perhaps—perhaps—she would finally understand that everything he'd done, every sacrifice, every hunt, every careful choice, had been for her.
---