Chapter 4

Angharad was having trouble getting into her clothes. Her stays gaped so wide she could barely be said to have laced them up anymore. She had let out all the seams on her dresses to the maximum, but still only the most generously cut still fit. It wasn’t that she minded getting fat. Just the opposite, she loved eating lots of delicious food and she loved every new roll on her body. But soon she would have to buy a whole new wardrobe and it was just embarrassing.

She resolved to rise earlier in order to go for a brisk walk through the palace grounds each morning. She had barely begun when she drew up to the spot where Cato Carolinus was doing his morning training.

Angharad was reminded of the first time she had seen him at his sword exercises, back home. He seemed different now. Partly it was that she no longer hated him. He had made a stupid bet, yes, but he never made any pressing attempt to win it, as far as she could see. He was friendly when he was not giving her a magic lesson and professional when he was.

But it was more than that. He seemed more solid, somehow. She watched him twist and bend gracefully through his sword forms. It wasn’t just her imagination. His once-obvious abdominal muscles had disappeared. He now had a small but definite belly instead.

Angharad smiled. That was her influence, she reckoned. All those lingering lunches and succulent suppers in her company were having an effect on her arrogant Cato.

My Cato? Where did that thought come from?

She began walking again, less briskly. She no longer hated him, true. She appreciated his company. Actually, he had become so ubiquitous it was difficult to imagine life in Carolinga without him.

She found it hard to concentrate on her magic class that day. She kept getting distracted by the slight softening of Cato’s jaw line or the pleasingly rough sound of his voice.

“Angharad? Are you getting this concept at all?”

“I’m sorry. I’m really not.”

He frowned.

“Is something bothering you?”

“No, not at all. It’s just, with the wedding coming up, I’ve been so busy…”

“Of course,” he said, leaning forward in concern and touching her hand lightly. “Have you had so much as a day off since coming here?”

She shook her head.

“I see. I could… do you… I have-”

Angharad was surprised to see the normally composed Cato so tongue-tied.

“I have nowhere to go,” she said. “At Dun Gewloc, Brangwen would sometimes give me time to go visit my family in the country, but since I’ve nowhere else to be, I may as well be on duty.”

“Actually, I was thinking of inviting you to visit my family estate,” said Cato. “It’s not far outside the city. I could say it is essential for your magic training, which wouldn’t even really be a lie. There are things it’s easier to learn away from throngs of people.”

Angharad hesitated for only a moment.

“I’d be delighted,” she said.

****

Angharad rushed to order new clothes before her trip. The seamstress who measured her made no comment on her body, much to her relief. Everything was ready before she left with Cato, except for the stays. She would have to make do with her old strained-to-the-point-of-bursting ones.

They left on a sunny afternoon. She travelled in the landau while Cato rode ahead. She wondered why he had invited her to his home. He couldn’t possible feel for her the way she felt for him. He had made it clear at the outset that he thought her dumpy and unattractive. Though she had forgiven him, she still felt the echo of anger at the memory of his words.

She could hear snatches of singing from time to time, though she couldn’t make out the words. Evening shadows were drawing out long by the time they reached their destination. Cato reigned in his horse and dropped back beside the carriage.

“Welcome to Aravel,” he said.

The next morning Angharad came down in her new cinnamon-coloured gown. Breakfast was plentiful and delicious, and she was digesting it in the library when Cato came in carrying a basket.

“I thought we could go for a stroll around the gardens,” he said.

“Of course.”

She took his proffered arm and they went out into the streaming sunshine. It was warm, birds were singing and it was hard for Angharad not to be charmed by Aravel. Cato’s stream of humorous stories about his boyhood helped as well.

They passed through a grove of trees and into a clearing. Cato unrolled a blanket and began unpacking the picnic lunch he’d brought. Angharad watched him work.

“You seem different in the country,” she said lazily. “More relaxed. It’s if you’re always wearing a mask at court.”

He looked up and met her eyes intently.

“What sort of mask?”

She sat down.

“A mask of your own face, perhaps. Real, but not quite true.”

His eyebrows quirked up.

“Huh. Try the salmon.”

They reclined on the ground and ate at length. Even when Angharad protested that she was full, Cato insisted on feeding another slice of a sweet, gooey pastry cooked with nuts and honey.The flavour and texture seduced her tongue. She picked up a piece. She beckoned to Cato.

“Here, it’s your turn,” she said, popping the sweet in his mouth as soon as he opened it to reply. Her fingertips brushed against his lips.

“Yes,” he breathed.

She fed him strawberries and melon slices and more pastries, until his belly was as visibly distended as her own. She unlaced his trews and he moaned, in relief and agony.

****

Cato lay still, panting with desire and fullness. He willed her to make the first move, to make her desire known. She leaned over him, giving him a clear view of her adorable double chin, and then she was kissing him. Cato wrapped his arms around her soft waist and then suddenly her cinnamon dress was around her waist, revealing her too-tight stays. She laughed as he fumbled for the cords and ripped off the offending garment. Her breasts spilled out into his hands. He was kissing her between her breasts, on her belly, on her vulva. She gasped. The afternoon was filled with sighs and moans and laughter, and then he was sliding into her, and it was sheer joy and softness. The explosion that followed was epic. Cato collapsed on top of Angharad. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“Well, I suppose now you’ve won that bet,” she said.

“What bet?” he said, shifting so he could look into her eyes.

She looked away uncomfortably.

“The bet you made with Waric in Dun Gewloc,” she said. “You know, about getting a leg over? I know Rhoda hasn’t slept with any Carolingans.”

“That bet!” He sat up as if pricked by a pin. “That was only a cover! Believe me, Angharad, I thought you were the most beautiful woman in all of Halfwen from the moment I laid eyes on you! And you‘ve only grown more beautiful as I’ve come to know you!”

“I see.”

“Angharad! I love you!”

“You don’t think I’m too fat?”

“Watching you get fatter has driven me wild with desire.” He began caressing her belly rolls. “It doesn’t matter to me how fat you are, I’d still desire you.”

She touched his little belly.

“I love you, too, Cato. And I also like the sight of you getting bigger.”

He licked his lips.

“We’ll see where this takes us,” he said.

She giggled.

“Somewhere with specially reinforced furniture, perhaps?”