A/N: Just to make it clear this fic is set in December, a few months after their marriage at the end of the summer.

Chapter Three.

The meal had, as he expected, already started and eyes fell on him as he slipped into the room. He walked calmly, nodding and smiling at people he knew as he passed. His parents didn't eat stately every night but if the King and Queen were eating in the dining hall instead of their private rooms, most courtiers tried to be there at the same time.

The serving men had been waiting for him and, having seen him come in, they had a tray of food prepared by the time he reached them. Thanking them, Roald went to the head table where his family were seated.

It was a smaller family at the moment: Kalasin was in Carthak, and Liam was on the Scanran border with his knight-master. Jasson was absent, no doubt up to his tricks. Lianne was with them this evening, and she sat next to her mother, looking rather bored with no-one to talk to.

Roald slipped into place between his wife and his father. Jon was talking in hushed tones with Thayet and didn't notice his son arrive, but Shinkokami touched her serviette to the corners of her mouth and reached for Roald's glass.

'Good evening, Roald,' she said as she poured him spiced fruit juice, knowing he preferred that to wine at this time.

'Good evening. Thank you.' He took the drink from her and gulped it greedily: he hadn't realised how dry his mouth was. Scrutinising the food before him, he asked, 'Have you had a good day?'

'Yes, thank you, pleasant enough.' There was a lapse and Roald kept his eyes and attention on his much-welcomed meal.

'Where have you been, Roald?' she asked finally.

'I have been busy, working. There are many reports to read, many requests to reply to,' his voice was quiet. 'Ask Sir Gareth, I've been with him most of the day.'

'I don't disbelieve you, Roald. But – surely those are duties for your scribes and clerks?'

'Someone with authority has to keep an eye on things, Shinko.'

She folded her hands in her lap. 'I'd just like to see you sometimes, Roald. We are married.'

Roald grimaced. He didn't want to be discussing this and, even more so, he didn't want others to hear it, however quiet her voice was. 'I saw you this afternoon. You seemed to be having a lovely time with my mother.'

Before she could rejoin, he added, 'Now is not the time to be discussing this. We will talk of it later,' and he pressed her clasped hands with his own momentarily.

She looked up at him, eyes lit up. 'Will you be around this evening, then?'

Roald turned away rather than see any hurt in those delicate, almond-shaped eyes. He placed a forkful of honey roast pork into his mouth, giving him time to decide on his best answer. He chewed, he swallowed, but when he turned round again, Shinkokami was pushing her dinner away from her and locating her fan.

'Well, I'm-' Roald began. 'Are you feeling ill, Shinkokami? Are you leaving?' His voice held a little incredulous tone to it and inwardly he cursed for letting that slip.

'I am no longer hungry, Roald. If you don't mind, please excuse me, and I will return to our rooms. Perhaps when you have dealt with your engagements we can have that discussion?'

To his surprise, he sat there and just watched his wife walk out. He had never seen Shinkokami so cold before; she reminded him of her friend, Yuki. Yuki was the one to get cross and walk away, not delicate Shinko.

He pondered going after her, aware of the watching nobles and their gossiping.

'Ah, Roald!' said Jonathan, seemingly noticing his son's presence for the first time. 'Just the young man I wanted to see. Oh, where's Shinkokami?'

'She… She didn't feel well, Father,' replied Roald, turning back to the door she had disappeared through. He half expected to see her come back, laughing at how she'd fooled him.

'Oh dear,' Jon said, his blue eyes twinkling. 'Don't worry, son, she'll get over it soon, whatever it is.

'Now, as I was saying: Midwinter. Do you think…'

Roald blocked his wife momentarily from his thoughts, giving his father his full attention. He would seek Shinkokami out at his next opportunity. He was sure everything would work out for the best.

--

Roald walked down the silent corridor, longing for his bed. He suppressed that other urge- that longing for simpler times.

To his utter shock, when he came into his rooms, Shinkokami was not in bed. She was sitting in a hard-backed chair by the low fire, obviously waiting for him. There was no book or embroidery near at hand, she was simply sitting, looking into the fire with her hands neatly folded in her lap.

'Shinkokami,' he breathed, belatedly shutting the door.

'I thought we might talk, Roald.'

He sighed and rubbed his face. 'I'm tired.'

'And I'm your wife. Or had you forgotten?'

Roald froze. 'Of course I haven't forgotten.'

She raised one elegant eyebrow. 'You don't always appear to remember. Can we talk?'

With another sigh, he crossed the room and sat opposite her. He was being ridiculous; this must be costing the Yamani Princess considerably to be so forthcoming. It was obvious to all that since she had been living in Tortall her behaviour had loosened, but she was still prone to be introverted.

And he had no desire to be unfair to his wife. It was his own fault that it had come to this.

'I'm sorry, Shinkokami. Please-' he waved his hands in weary circles- 'be open with me. Do you mind if-?' He indicated his boots.

'Of course not,' she replied. He bent down and removed his boots, hiding his grimace: she sounded unbelievably tense. There was silence as Roald undid the lacings, wriggled his stocking-covered toes, and resettled himself in the chair. He waited, and still his wife just watched him.

'Please, Shinkokami, go ahead.'

'I want to discuss this, Roald, not just me talk and you listen.'

'Very well, we will discuss it, but I need you to start, if you will.' Still silence. 'I need to know we're on the same issue, Shinkokami.'

She winced and there was no fan for her to hide her face from him. 'There's more than one?'

Horrified, Roald realised what he'd implied, and stared blankly at her.

'And please stop calling me "Shinkokami".'

That stopped his frantic thoughts. He blinked. 'Pardon?' When she didn't continue, he added, 'What do you mean?' He found, unbelievably, that his heart was thumping heavily and his hands were becoming clammy. This was not a conversation he wanted to be having.

'You have reverted to calling me by my full name, as you did when you first met me. You no longer call me "Shinko".'

Relief flooded him momentarily, and he chuckled. 'I did not realise it bothered you so greatly.'

'It is more the motive that worries me.'

He blanched. Motive? His heart returned to its accelerated pace, his skin tingled. He was acting like a hormonal, unstable teenager and he couldn't help it. What was she meaning?

There was silence, neither one speaking. Finally, Shinko caved. She had been waiting for this discussion for long enough now, and although it might not come easy to her to talk of their relationship and her own feelings, she wasn't about to pass up on the chance.

'You do not spend time with me any longer, Roald. I-'

Roald stood so abruptly that he knocked his boots over and Shinko visibly jumped. He was scowling.

'As I told you earlier, I'm very busy. A kingdom doesn't run on its own- especially one at war. I'm tired, Shinko, if we could please continue this conversation at a more convenient time!'

She opened her mouth to argue, but changed her mind at the last moment. 'Very well. As you wish.'

Realising she wasn't going to quarrel, he sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair in distraction. 'You have to try and understand, Shinkoka- Shinko. There's so much to be done; like I said, a kingdom doesn't run on its own.'

Steeling herself for his anger again, she kept her eyes steady on her interlocked fingers. 'But you're not King yet.'

He made no reply and when she finally dared to look up, he was slouched in his chair, staring into the fire. A frown played slightly on his forehead. Her voice had been so quiet; perhaps he hadn't even heard her.

She cleared her throat a little cautiously, but he didn't move. Was that-? Shinko squinted. Yes, she was sure of it. Roald had wrinkles. There were creases on his forehead, around his eyes- lines she was sure hadn't been there a year or so ago.

Her eyes wide, her heart disbelieving, she turned away. He was only just twenty-two. Wildly, she looked for something to distract herself- to distract both of them. Her eyes settled on one lone, forgotten violet on the floor.

'When I came back from lunch today, the heavy mahogany cabinet had been pulled from the wall,' she started, a little quivery at first but her voice gradually became firmer. 'The servants swear they didn't do it, but it's most odd – Roald, are you even listening to me?'

He turned from his deep scrutiny of the fire. 'Hmm? Oh yes! Yes, of course. The servants, dear. You were talking about the servants.'

'I was talking about the cabinet, actually.'

'The cabinet? Oh, that was me.'

'You! Roald, whatever possessed you? Do you realise two of our wedding gifts have been ruined? The cut glass vase the Naxens gave to us is smashed and the lace mat the Countess of King's Reach bought from Pearlmouth, from the oldest lace company of Tortall, is stained. You didn't even put the violets back in water, Roald!'

'I'm sorry, Shinkokami. The list of potential Midwinter festivities had fallen behind and Uncle Gary needed it. I didn't mean to break anything.' He still looked slightly preoccupied.

'Well next time think about moving anything breakable before you start rearranging the furniture.'

He glared back into the fire. 'Stop scolding me, Shinkokami. They're as much mine as they are yours.'

'And that makes it better, does it? It doesn't matter if you break irreplaceable objects so long as you've got some claim to them.'

'Well it's better than me destroying something that was entirely yours, isn't it?' he demanded crossly, plopping his chin into his cupped palm with a scowl.

'The flowers weren't yours,' she said, her voice small. 'They were given to me from that young squire, you know the one- Master Harailt's pretty young nephew.'

'They're only flowers, woman, I can get you some more!'

Shinko pressed her back into the chair. 'Roald, there's no need to get mad, I-'

'You what? You would prefer violets from young squires than your husband? I can bring you roses otherwise, or lilies, or marigolds.'

'Roald, I don't understand!'

'Don't you?' He was standing now.

'Roald. You're scaring me.'

He sighed and looked to the ceiling, shoving his hands into his breeches pockets. His fingers closed on something smooth: it was still in his pocket. He hadn't changed his breeches for dinner, only his shirt and tunic, and the bracelet was still where he had put it when he had first found it. He should confront her now, get it out in the open while they had a chance to talk.

'Do you remember what I gave you for your first birthday here?' he asked.

'Why, yes, Roald. I remember every present you've given me. For my fifteenth birthday you gave me the fan with Yamani cats and Tortallan wolves painted on it (I still use it, you know), the book on Tortallan history and sunstone earbobs.'

'I know. And what about for your sixteenth?'

She smiled. 'You gave me that beautiful bracelet.'

'It was beautiful, wasn't it? I haven't seen it in so long. You promised to wear it always.'

She frowned. 'You're right, I haven't worn it recently. I'll wear it tomorrow, will that please you?' she smiled like a young girl.

He pulled the bracelet out and shoved it under her nose. 'Shinko, I found this under the cabinet! Dusty! How long has it been missing?'

She frowned, taking the gold from him and running shapely fingers over it. 'Missing-? I thought it was in my box, with all my other special jewellery.'

'So you didn't even notice it was gone?'

'Roald, I must have put it on the cabinet one day and it must have dropped behind, just like your scroll. You know I'd take it off when I was practicing with the shukusen or the naginata or going riding, in case I lost or broke it. I don't see why you're so cross, I'm sorry I misplaced it.'

'Shinko- that thing cost a lot of money!'

'I know that Roald. You never had to spend so much on me, you know.'

'I wanted to. Don't you appreciate it?'

'Of course I appreciate it, I love it.'

He snorted, beginning to pace the room. 'Some love; you were more anxious about your precious violets.'

'Roald!'

He stopped suddenly and pointed at the bangle. 'That is magic, Shinkokami. The stones have their own power.' As he talked, his anger fizzled away. 'Each one is either important for protection, or for healing. The citrine helps raise self-esteem too, and brings hope, and the tiger eye inspires bravery. The gold itself aids in clearing and purifying the mind.'

'You never told me any of this before, Roald.'

He sighed. 'I guess I didn't want you to feel over-protected at the time.' He yawned. 'I'm going to bed, I've got to be up early in the morning.'

'As you are every day,' she said as he walked into their bedroom. She followed him, and the first thing she did was put the bracelet carefully away in her locked box. 'Sometimes I wonder if the King himself rises as early as you do.'

She removed her brightly woven shawl and folded it neatly, placing it in a chest. He was undressing with his back to her. It had been so long since they readied for bed at the same time, Shinko found it almost strange. They had never given each other a good enough chance to get used to living in the same rooms after their marriage- or rather, Roald hadn't. His avoidance, work-all-hours tactics had slipped in within the first month.

He grunted. 'My father deserves all the rest he can get.'

Fingers working at the lacings that held her bodice tight, she rolled her eyes at him across the room. 'So do you. What good are you to him if you're tired? What good are you to anybody?'

Shirtless, belt-less and stocking-less, he turned and gave her an unyielding stare. 'Will you stop talking about everything like that. At least in the bedroom.'

Shinko sighed. There were those avoidance tactics again. From across the room, she frowned- was that a cut on his shoulder? She finished struggling out of her Tortallan style dress and, sneaking a self-conscious glance at him, turned her back and exchanged her shift for her loose night dress.

Done, she went over to him, all the way on the other side of the room. He was nearly ready for bed too, but she wanted to see what marked his skin and she didn't want to have to take his clothes off.

Shinko stopped him as he was about to slip the night shirt over his head. A little crease formed between her brows as she pressed fingertips to his left shoulder.

'That's a nasty bruise.'

He looked where she indicated and saw a deep black-purple triangular mark, glaring against his pale skin. He frowned and a flash of memory hit him: the heavy weight – shifting and pulling – the obstinate thing not wanting to move – the metal corner digging into his shoulder.

'It's from when I moved the cabinet.'

She shifted and her nightgown slipped off one shoulder, bearing exquisite skin. Roald was suddenly aware of the fact that he was standing in front of her in just a loincloth, his poised nightclothes bunched over his forearms. Apart from being freezing, he was feeling entirely vulnerable.

'If I had the Gift, I'd take it away for you,' she murmured, running fingers across the dark patch. Taking her hand away, she met his eyes and added, 'Why don't you-?' She twiddled her fingers.

Roald pressed two fingers to the coloured skin but they only shimmered slightly with his Gift. The bruise faded a little around the edges. Roald frowned.

'Roald?'

He turned away, pulling his clothes on. 'I'm just tired, that's all. Can't concentrate. I'll do it in the morning.' He went to the bed, beginning to arrange the sheets.

'Being a little tired has never affected your Gift before, has it?'

Roald sighed. 'I only have a small Gift, Shinkokami, not like my father's, or Kalasin's. You know I can't do a lot with it- light fires, small healings, unlock doors- it only makes sense that it be affected easily by my tiredness. Now, are you coming to bed or are you going to stand in the middle of the room all night and catch cold?'

She gave him a mulish look and pattered across the room. He watched her climb gracefully into their big bed, delicate toes curling at the coldness of the sheets. She smiled a little tremulously up at him.

They had consummated their marriage in that first week- more than once- but after weeks of retiring to the same bed at different hours, it felt more than a little odd to be sitting next to each other now.

'Goodnight, Shinko.' He rolled over to blow out the candle, missing the crestfallen look on her face.

She sunk down into the feather mattress, hugging the thick quilts tight around her shoulders. The single flame spluttered and died. 'Goodnight, Roald.'

Her voice must have betrayed something- a gentle tremble, perhaps? Because once he had settled himself beneath the covers, Roald's hand sought out hers and pulled it to his lips for a light kiss, before he rolled onto his side for the night.

Shinko pulled that hand tight to her breast and held it there while she slept.

--