Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

the ceiling, unable to sleep. He'd blown out his nightlight a good hour ago, but despite heavy eyelids and the weary ache in his bones, sleep still eluded him. Hazy shafts of light spilled into the darkened room from the corridor outside, and his night vision showed him the familiar shapes and shadows of his bedroom. Emma had
    insisted their furniture be transported from Kahalimar to the Castle. Gawaine didn't care; Viktor was the one who'd end up footing the bill. It wasn't as if he'd chosen any of it himself. He'd never had the time or the inclination to develop domestic instincts. He'd spent most of his life as a soldier, and most of that on the move. His time at Kahalimar had been the longest he'd ever spent in one place. Four interminable years . . . He'd waited so long for them to be over, only to discover that what came next was worse.
    He shifted himself into yet another position, trying to get comfortable. Emma stirred at his side and he lay still, not wanting to wake her. The years in exile had been hard on Emma. She lived for the gossip and friendships and factions of High Society, and there was little of that in Redhart outside Castle Midnight.
    She'd been just the same at the Forest Castle . . . Gawaine frowned in the darkness, and for a moment an old bitterness threatened to surface, but he pushed it back. He was Sir Gawaine of Redhart now, for better or worse, and the past should stay in the past. Gawaine lay very still beside his wife, not touching her at all, for no matter where they were there was always something keeping them apart.
    'What's the matter, Gawaine?' said Emma quietly.
    'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.'
    'You didn't. You're not the only one who's had trouble sleeping lately.'
    Gawaine smiled indulgently into the darkness. 'According to you, you never sleep.'
    'Well, I don't. I never have. Any night I get more than a few hours' sleep is a good night for me. But I'm used to that; you're not. What's the matter?'
    'Nothing in particular. Just . . . things. Go to sleep, love. Busy day tomorrow.'
    They lay in silence for a while. Far away, they could hear the Night Watch being changed. Gawaine smiled, and relaxed slightly. There was something very comforting, even cosy, about lying in a warm soft bed and listening to the sound of marching men whose job it was to see that you slept safe and undisturbed. Gawaine in particular appreciated it. He'd done his fair share of marching back and forth in the cold on Watch duty in his time.
    'Remember the bed we had back at Forest Castle?' said Emma dreamily. 'I used to love that bed.'
    Gawaine grunted. 'Damned ugly monstrosity. Far too big, and it creaked every time you moved.'
    'But it was comfortable . . . you could just sink into that mattress. And the furniture we had then - this stuff is all very well, but it's not a patch on what we used to have. But then, that's true of everything here.'
    'Well, you'll just have to make the most of it,' said Gawaine irritably. 'We won't ever be going back to the Forest.'
    'We might,' said Emma. 'Some day.'
    'No we won't! We can't go back!' Gawaine started to sit up in bed, and then made himself lie down again. They'd had this argument before, and shouting only made things worse. 'Emma, after what happened we can never return to Forest Castle. They'd hang both of us.'
    'I only wanted to help,' said Emma. 'It just got out of hand.'
    All the long years of bottled-up anger suddenly came together in Gawaine, and he finally asked the question he'd promised himself he'd never ask again. 'Why did you kill him, Emma? Why did you have to kill him?'
    'He was your rival, Gawaine. He stood in your way. If you were ever to get on at Court, he had to die.'
    'But suspicion was bound to fall on ... us. And I never gave a damn for his position, or getting on. I was happy as I was.'
    'You never were ambitious enough, Gawaine. So I had to be ambitious enough for both of us. Looking back, yes, it was a mistake to kill him. But it was such a clever plan, and it would have worked if we hadn't been betrayed.' Her hand drifted across under the bedclothes and fastened on to his. Their fingers intertwined. 'And you took the blame for me, Gawaine. I've never forgotten that. You gave up your position and your honour to save me. What other woman was ever loved more than I?'
    'What else could I do?' said Gawaine, and if there was the faintest tinge of weariness in his voice, Emma didn't hear it. Gawaine gave her hand a comforting