She sputters. “No you’re not! There’s so much money there! You can’t abandon it.”

“If you want me to keep it, I will.”

“I do. Absolutely. You robbed a lot of selfish pricks to get all that loot.”

I bite back a chuckle. Why is it so easy for us to sit here and talk, even when things are bad between us? I want to grab her hand and beg her to understand, to swear that I never meant any of it, and yet I suspect she will not listen. She needs to think on it, as she says. And I need to show her my truth with my actions.

Not an easy thing to do when I’m bedridden.

I finish eating and she brings me a drink, and I hate that even now she waits on me. “Thank you, Vali. For everything. I have not said it enough, but you saved my life. And you keep saving it by taking care of me. I know it has not been easy.”

My words make her pause. She studies my face and a small smile creeps onto hers. “I am doing what any wife would do for her husband. Even if they’re mad at each other.” Then her expression falls as she remembers something. “But you didn’t want a wife, did you?”

“I might not have started out wanting one, but now I cannot imagine my life without one.”

Her smile seems a little more forced, a little sadder. “Do you need anything else? Balo has offered to set up a bed in an empty tent for me to sleep in. Are you sleeping in here?”

Again, I want to throttle Balo and his helpfulness. “Aye, the healer wants me where he can keep an eye on me. And one tent is the same as another…but I would like it if you stayed with me. I like waking up with you.”

“I can sleep here,” she agrees easily.

I expected her to argue. Her easy capitulation surprises me. “I am glad.”

Vali moves in close to me, settling on the blankets. I shift my body, mindful of my leg, and make room for her. She squeezes in next to me and then relaxes at my side, and it feels so familiar and so right that I automatically put my arm around her shoulders, tucking her against me.

“Better already,” I say.

“Behold the healing power of sharing blankets,” Vali teases. “You’ll be so tired of me hogging the bed that you’ll miraculously get better faster.”

“More like having a pretty wife at my side makes me realize how much I hate being helpless.” I rub her arm, and it feels so easy to be with her. It makes me happy. Vali makes me happy. I gaze down at her, at her lovely, upturned face. “May I kiss you?”

“If you want to.”

Her answer bothers me. It’s as guarded and neutral—and permissive—as when I first met her. When she was trying to please me. “It’s not about what I want, Vali⁠—”

“But it is. You didn’t want a wife, and I’ve nowhere to go if you get rid of me, so I’ll be whatever you want me to be. If you want to kiss me, kiss me.”

It feels like we’ve gone all the way back to the beginning, thanks to my careless mouth. “Then we don’t kiss if you cannot be honest with me about whether or not you want my kiss.”

“Very well.”

We don’t kiss. But we don’t get up, either. I Just hold Vali against my side and wonder what I can do to fix this. How do I woo and prove myself when I’m in my sickbed?

Can I afford not to?

Chapter

Twenty-Six

RANAN

Aweek passes, and the easiness between myself and Vali remains gone. She sleeps curled at my side every night and wakes up in my arms every morning…but there is something missing. Gone is the spontaneous affection for each other. Gone are the quick kisses and her laughter. I have not asked her to sit upon my face and she has not reached for my cocks.

We are very friendly strangers, and I hate it.

It is difficult for me to do anything, however, thanks to the fact that I am forced to sit in bed and rest my leg. That, and Daidu keeps pouring potions down my throat that make me sleep for most of the day. When I am awake, I always look for Vali, though. I hunger for the sight of her, for her soft smiles and the sweet fan of her lashes when she looks down. The way her nose wrinkles adorably when she smells what Daidu keeps feeding me.

I’m utterly besotted with my wife, and she has pointed out to me that we are not truly married. My pride has withered into dust.

When a few more days pass and Daidu proclaims I no longer need potions to speed my healing, the days grow even longer with nothing to do. With the healer’s help, I move outside of the tent and work on mending nets, since that only requires hands.

Today, I am outside the healer’s tent in the sunshine. It rained yesterday, keeping those with projects from doing their work. They are spread out today on the flotilla, the humid air full of the sounds of voices. People have hides spread out, and someone is drying fish. My father’s father is weaving, my father is off fishing for the day’s meals, and I have nets.

So many nets.

I mend nets, knotting and weaving cords, and I watch my mate laugh and talk with Balo and my uncle Dorran nearby. They stand in front of Dorran’s tent, near the center of the flotilla, and the breeze catches Vali’s hair and makes it drift against her face. She carelessly pushes it back, and I watch her graceful movements and her delicate hands.

I think of those hands as they stroked my cocks, and her sultry smile of pride as she did so. And I sigh and watch my woman with the two men and try not to feel resentment.

Try, and fail.

They have become fast friends, those three. My uncle is as good-natured as his husband and has a great affection for humans. He’s old enough to be Vali’s father and he looks upon her like one. Balo is the one she spends the most time with, though, and I grow to hate the sight of his bleached, easy grin. I hate the way he is always at her side, being helpful.

I hate that he is teaching her all the things I should be, and instead I am sitting in the sun and mending nets like my mother’s mother’s father, who is so ancient he cannot even walk straight and spends most of his days seated under a nut tree, napping.

“What did that net ever do to you?” my mother asks, sinking down to sit next to me.

“Eh?” I look over at her in surprise.

She brings a conch full of juice to my side, sinking down next to me and offering it. “I’m not sure if you’re repairing that net or trying to tear it apart with your hands. Does something trouble you?”

I scowl down at the net I’m working on, because my knots might be a little tighter than they should be, and the rope might be stretched, just a little. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh, you were. Just not to the net.” My mother indicates the shell in her hand. “Drink this. It’s good for you.”

I roll my eyes at her pushiness, but I take the shell and drain it. Vali’s laughter echoes over the flotilla and I lower the drink so I can watch her. She has a sling spear in her hands, and Dorran is trying to show her the proper way to fit the sling around her wrist so she can fire it through the water at great speed. Vali tries again, and instead of launching itself, the spear clatters to the ground. Balo and my uncle burst into laughter, and Vali holds her sides, giggling wildly.

I scowl down at the shell in my hands. Does she laugh so brightly when I talk to her? It seems that Balo makes her giggle all the time.

“I have decided I like her,” my mother declares in a lofty tone, as if sensing my thoughts.

“She is my bride whether you like it or not,” I tell my mother sourly. Well, as long as Vali accepts me in marriage. I have not broached it again.

“I know, but it makes it easier that I like her.” My mother is unruffled. “She works with Balo every day to learn how to swim, and she has made great strides in it. She gathers water without asking, and refills the canisters if she sees them. She helps clean the fish and she never complains or demands to be given easier chores. She is a hard worker. It is a good thing to have in a wife.”