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"Helen asked if you were going to write another account."
"Hmm?" Eugenides tilted his head in her direction, only half listening.
Attolia made her way to where he was seated, ruffling his hair a bit and leaning over him until he paid attention.
He was smiling when he finally looked up at her.
"Apparently you wrote an account after you acquired Hamiathes’s gift," she raised her eyebrows. "Your cousin who is Eddis inquired as to whether you were going to repeat your endeavor over the exploits that led to our marriage."
Attolia had gotten the sense Eddis was only teasing Eugenides by asking such, but the existence of a memoir of sorts on the gift expedition written by her husband was news to her.
She wanted to hear what he would say.
Eugenides grimaced at the thought.
"Not unless you order me to, and maybe not even then."
He leaned back against her, and she prodded him for more of an explanation.
"I have to keep some secrets, don't I?"
"Hmm."
She continued to pet his hair, let him decide what to do with her dissatisfaction.
It didn't take long.
It never did, when she was petting him.
The affection always put him in a more obliging mood (she tried to use this power for good, or at least never for ill).
"It would be much less adventurous youth coming off of a big win that made for such a lovely story the first time around. Not as many bad parts," he admitted with a half twist to his lips. "I was very clever, and people don't ask me to brag half as much as I wished they would."
Humming softly, she noted a loop of his curls fit perfectly around her finger. Twist, unwind, over again.
It was visible the moment he started to seriously consider it, shoulders dropping as he settled more firmly into her chest.
"I didn't have as much of the story between here and there,” said Eugenides. He sounded less than pleased about it, with a tinge of bitterness that had mostly faded.
He sighed. "The less said about that winter the better. Not a pleasant time all around. I was useless, down a hand and angry at the world, and didn't even notice there was a war going on for the first part of it. Terribly out of the loop and not adjusting well. Not much to brag about." A pause. "Did get a happy ending, though," he added, expression soft.
Attolia kissed the crown of his head for that.
Her husband was terribly sweet even when dwelling on painful things caused by certain parties in the room.
She hadn't intended for that, though it probably was only to be expected, given the subject matter. In apology, she offered the core of her interest.
"I did wonder what that marriage proposal looked like from your perspective. Was that as planned?"
Eugenides grinned up at her. "Would you like a do over?"
"Are you trying to get out of the question?"
"So, so, so."
She gave his shoulder a gentle push.
"Come to bed and I might let you get away with it."
"As my queen demands."
…
…
"The wooden cannons, though."
She heard him lift his head in the darkness. Probably staring at her. She could feel the weight of it (very judgy).
"You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"They were made of wood, Eugenides."
"Go to sleep, Irene."