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"You live in a library." Attolia's voice was dry, but Eugenides could detect the surprise in it.
He sprawled comfortably in the best chair and smiled as she looked around, taking it all in.
Her eyebrow rose as she turned to him. "And you think this is an appropriate place for a queen to live?" she demanded archly.
"It's just for a little while," he reminded her. "While we drive the filthy Mede from our shore. Don't take it so—"
Eugenides threw himself out of the chair in time to dodge the inkpot that would otherwise have perfectly knocked him in the head.
Eddis stared at the unfortunate soul sent to deliver this particular message. "What do you mean the Queen of Attolia is in the library?"
She arrived outside the door in time to hear the sound of breaking pottery and thought to herself there were times when she would cheerfully strangle Eugenides.
She opened the doors and seeing the scene before her, considered that Attolia would clearly agree.
Attolia set down the inkpot in her hand neatly on the edge of the library desk and smoothed her skirt as if nothing untoward had occurred and raised a questioning brow at Eddis.
Eddis glanced around enough to determine that it had not been the first inkpot aimed at Eugenides and at least one of his colorful sashes was ruined. "Eugenides."
"Well, that was a bit awkward," he muttered.
It was more than a bit awkward.
"My queen, may I introduce my wife, the Queen of Attolia."
Technically, Eddis had approved the plan. Technically, the country was prepared for Eugenides stealing the queen as his bride and stealing a peace with the country she ruled. Technically, all was almost sort of going according to plan, with the duly noted exceptions that the Mede Nahuseresh was running wild in Attolia, claiming he was going to get the queen back, and a sovereign ruler of a foreign state had moved into Eddis' library.
"It wasn't supposed to be this complicated," Eddis commented ruefully.
"It sounds so bad when you explain it," Eugenides groused to the magus.
"It might be time to send a letter to my Captain of the Guard," Attolia suggested calmly. Too calmly.
Eugenides scoffed. "The guard that protected you so well from me."
Attolia's expression promised violence if someone didn't interject.
Eddis almost didn't interject. Eugenides was as known for provoking others as he was for stealing from them.
She was spared the effort by the magus. "Could you guarantee this Nahuseresh wouldn't intercept any such message?"
Well, no, she could not.
To be quite honest, they needed to finish dealing with a certain Mede ambassador to save the books, Eugenides concluded in hardly any time at all. Attolia's first reflex with Eugenides and his provocations was almost invariably violent.
He had to learn to either restrain himself or soothe her urge to restrain him herself before he riled her too badly.
But he liked that flush on her cheeks when he broke through her iron walls and reached her. And everyone, even Eddis, had given up on him ever being less provocative.
There were peaceful moments, waking up and blinking at the realization that his wife was nearby and maybe even wanted to be.
"It's quiet in here," she said softly. She was standing very still, near the window.
Eugenides knew she liked to be still, knew she liked those moments she didn't have to feel the aching, restless paranoia of ruling a country like Attolia. But sometimes he forgot it. It wasn't something he'd had reason to consider within their marriage before now.
"Of course," he said, equally quiet. "It's a library."
She didn't answer, and so he didn't say anything else, didn't even get up out of the cozy sheets and blankets.
He did reach out from beneath the covers with his one hand to find her fingers with his own. She let him touch her, let him hold her hand in the silence and stillness until finally someone knocked on the door to announce their meal.
"I'm going to miss the books," he said quietly when they had, at last, driven the Mede from their shore and were finally returning to her home—and leaving his.
He'd miss the library, miss his cousin the queen, miss Eddis the country. All of it.
Attolia stood beside him, letting him linger in the doorway. "It's not how I imagined you living," she admitted.
"Oh?" He turned to her, wild suggestions on the tip of his tongue.
She lifted her fingers to place against his lips, and he blushed, his glibness failing him for just long enough to bring a smile to her own.
"Don't ruin the moment," she said tartly.
She let him draw her hand from his mouth so he could kiss the back of it gallantly. "I wouldn't dream of it."