"I do not want you to watch me pledge my life to another woman when, in truth, it is you I truly want." Henry added.
"Your Majesty, it does not matter to me," Livia said.
"It matters to me. I have tolerated your stubborn refusal to share my bed," he continued, "but even after I am married, I do not intend to give you up."
"Oh, my," she said. "And there I was taking your feverish plans for our future seriously."
"Yes. Stephen informed me of my…" He cleared his throat, suddenly finding the shelves beyond her shoulder deeply interesting. "Of what I said."
Livia's mouth twitched. The knowledge that he had proposed marriage while feverish was enough to make him avoid her eyes. "How much did he tell you?"
"Enough."
"That you called me your queen? That you promised to stand before the altar and marry me?"
"Livia." His eyes narrowed, though amusement tugged reluctantly at his mouth.
"I was joking, Your Majesty," she said, softening.
