“Enter.” Janx’ voice was terse as usual. Instantly I was a little boy asking for a second cookie instead of a grown man, a crown prince, a bridegroom. Even though our union was in name only, a year long symbolic marrying of our clans, I still felt I deserved more. More what I had no idea? Steaming, I charged into my wife’s chamber.

She was veiled of course. Her graceful back in a peasant shift faced me. Janx didn’t bother to look up.

“What is it?” She asked while writing in a ledger.

I banged me fist on her secretary desk.

“My subjects kneel when I enter a room,” I bellowed.

“Good thing I am not your subject.”

Janx turned and folded her arms. In the four moons we have shared I’ve never seen her face but I feel she is always mocking me. Or ignoring me.

“I am accustomed to being treated with respect in my—“

“Yes yes and I’m accustomed to having happy gentlemen callers in my bedroom. Your Grace we can play witty repertoire all night but I’m tired and you’re outmatched. Again what is it?”

I grabbed her shoulders lifting my wife from her chair.

“Wait is this the part where we recognize our animosity is really passion and we fall into each other’s arms?” Janx chuckled. I flung her back down and headed to the door.

“Camryn stop.”

I continued marching needing to leave our royal chambers, needing the sea to clear my spirit.

“Please.” Her voice snagged me at the final door. “I’m not good with people. I get tired and—“

“And a right sea hag.”

Janx laughed and snorted. “I would have said irritated but you’re closer. Why are you so angry with me? Usually only my closest friends get this cross with me.”

I sighed, a jangle of emotions ensnared me. Janx has spoken to the weavers, the farmers, and all of the guilds. She has joined the council of elders and meets regularly in the marketplace. And each night we eat dinner in silence.

“ I see.” Her voice was tinged with a pity that stung.

I realized I said my thoughts out loud.

I ran my fingers through my hair. Suddenly I felt naked.

She doesn’t ask about me because there is nothing to ask. I turned back to the door.

“Do your people tell stories by the fireside?” I asked.

Janx tilted her covered face. “Yes the Lynnx tell stories mostly during the high holidays.”

“Do you know the story of the Door in the Mountains?”

Janx shook her head.

“Of the man in the wood who guards the gateway and the questions that have to be answered? Do you know what lays on the other side?”

My wife looked at me for the first time. I turned and left our bedroom for the comfort of the sea.