by Shay Savage
“It wasn’t my intent,” I said quietly.
“I’m sure he knows that,” Sunniva said, reassuring me, but I wasn’t completely convinced.
“Will he…will he return me to Hadebrand?”
“Why would you ask such a question?” Sunniva’s hands tightened their grip on mine.
“What he…he said to the king. He said he would…he would…if King Camden asked…”
I couldn’t even finish the thought. Everything I had heard him say in the carriage with Sir Parnell and in the throne room with the king—talk of annulling the marriage, murders over lands, and war—had me frightened. Knowing what I knew now, I had no doubt I would not see many sunsets if I was returned to Edgar’s kingdom.
“Pshaw!” Sunniva exclaimed. “Branford only said that to get him to agree to keep you here without completely losing face after going against his father’s wishes. He knew Camden would never make you return, given the circumstances. You would be put in a very bad position. Camden would never do that, and Branford knows it.”
I looked down at the floor, trying to comprehend her words. He wasn’t offering to give me up? I had been so sure he was about to renounce me.
“He frightened you, didn’t he?” Sunniva asked.
“Yes, my queen,” I replied quietly. “I thought…I thought I would have to leave.”
“You have had a trying day,” Sunniva repeated. “So many changes for you. Let’s find you something to wear, and then we’ll talk.”
Releasing my hands, the Queen of Silverhelm opened a large wooden wardrobe—one of many lined up against the wall. She pulled out one fancy dress after another, looked it over, and then put it back. Eventually she pulled out a long dress of yellow and blue.
“I think this will fit you nicely,” Sunniva said with a nod. “The color will be perfect with your skin. I’m not sure about the length, though. I think you may be tripping over the skirts, and we don’t want that. Tell me, dear—do you sew?”
“Yes, of course, my queen” I responded, realizing almost immediately that I had misspoke yet again. “I mean, Sunniva.”
“Wonderful!” Sunniva beamed at me. “Let’s get it on you and see how much we’ll need to hem.”
Sunniva helped me dress in the beautiful gown and then measured how much to hem with her fingers. Once we knew how much to shorten the skirts, I started to put the muddied dress back on, but Sunniva stopped me. She pulled out a simple dress for me to wear, which was still much too long, so I bunched it up around my legs and sat down on a stool to start sewing. Sunniva pulled up another stool and grabbed the other end of the skirt. I furrowed my brow, confused. Sunniva glanced up at me and laughed.
“It will go much faster if we both work on it,” she said.
“You know how to sew?”
“Yes, I do,” Sunniva responded. “I quite enjoy it, actually. I made the dress you are wearing now.”
“You did?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Sunniva was a queen, and the dress I was wearing was not easy to make. Why in the world would a queen ever need to learn sewing?
“I’m not completely useless,” Sunniva said as she tried to hide a smile. “I find it relaxing, and when the tailor doesn’t get Camden’s robes just right, I can fix them for him.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply…”
“Don’t be silly,” Sunniva said with a wave of her hand. “I know it’s a little unusual, given my station. My mother taught me when I was young.”
We sat on the stools, each of us sewing in silence around the edge of the lavish skirt. It was good to be participating in such an activity, for I was familiar with it and felt comfortable with my skills. At least I wasn’t afraid of doing something wrong with this task. The dress was made of very fine materials, and Sunniva’s needles were sharp and easy to use. I found myself relaxing for the first time since the Grand Tournament ended.
“Branford is a good man,” Sunniva said after several minutes of sewing. “He is impulsive, and he has a bit of a temper, but he's a good man.”
“Yes, Sunniva,” I replied, unsure of exactly how I should respond to such a comment. Was she trying to convince me of his goodness or warn me of his temper? I had already seen that.
“You don't have to agree with me,” Sunniva said. She stopped her movements with the needle. I looked up and was met with her kind smile. “I know this is frightening for you. When I was betrothed to Camden, I was only fourteen and had never met him before. It was a political union, and I was terrified when I was brought here to Silverhelm, knowing nothing of what was to come. I knew nothing of Camden and had heard many stories of men who were less than kind to their wives. I just wanted you to know Branford isn't cruel or evil. I don’t believe he would have suggested annulling the marriage if he thought Camden would actually demand it.”
“I’ve seen his…temper,” I said softly, wondering how good an idea it would be to reveal my fears concerning her adopted son, but she seemed so kind, and I felt at ease. I wasn’t quite ready to let my guard down completely like I might have done with Hadley or someone close to my station, but I could certainly see myself liking the Queen of Silverhelm.
“Was he gentle with you?” Sunniva inquired, her voice quite soft.
“He’s been very kind to me,” I replied. I knew exactly what Sunniva was truly asking, and I could not come right out and speak dishonestly to her. I also could not tell her of our lack of a wedding night, but I could refrain from lying. When we had first entered his room after our wedding reception, he had been far from gentle, and I had heard a man’s lust could become out of control, and he could become a beast even if he was normally a kind soul. Sunniva looked at me through her lashes but didn’t pry any further. I chose that moment to divert the subject. “He was very angry with the carriage driver though.”
“Branford has always been a very passionate man,” Sunniva said with a sigh. “When he feels something, he feels it very deeply. He is fiercely loyal to his family and expects the same from those around him. When he feels he has been wronged in some way, he often lets his temper get the better of him. I suppose we shall have to find another driver.”
“He will lose his job?”
“I had assumed he lost his life,” Sunniva said as she looked up from her sewing again. “Branford doesn’t tend to forgive transgressions. Are you telling me he still lives?”
“I asked Branford not to harm the man,” I said quietly.
She looked at me for a long moment.
“And he stayed his hand?”
I nodded, and Sunniva smiled.
“I’m pleased to hear you say that.” Sunniva’s smile did not falter as she tilted her head back to the hemline of the dress. I did the same, realizing I was falling quite behind, as she was nearing the halfway point around the first of the skirts. Not only could the queen sew, but she was also quite good at the task. Working together, we would be done quickly.
Without warning, the door opened, and the dark-haired woman from the grand hall entered and quickly approached, her skirts gathered up in her hands so as not to impede her gait. Her gaze danced from me to Sunniva, and I noticed her eyes sparkled like green gems, the same as Branford’s.
“Ida, I do wish you would knock.”
“Sorry, Mother,” she replied. She walked straight over to me. “I wanted to let you know I am not angry with you. I'm angry with Branford for being a complete ass, but that's not your fault. He’s always been that way.”
“Ida, don't swear.”
“Yes, Mother.” Ida looked contrite, but only for a moment. “But he promised me when we were ten! Ten! For twelve years I have been planning his wedding!”
“I do recall the conversations.”
“He went back on his word,” Ida exclaimed, “and isn’t there a law of chivalry that tells him he can’t do that? Didn’t he take some sort of oath?”
“Of course he did,” Sunniva responded, her calm voice in contrast to Ida’s
frantic one. “I don’t recall any of them specifically addressing the planning of a wedding, though.”
“Well, there has to be something about keeping your word to your sister!” Ida stepped forward and abruptly leaned over me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and hugging me tightly. “I'm glad you're not Whitney.”
Whatever calm I had felt from the simple act of sewing had completely vanished. I shrank back in my seat a little, but Branford’s sister did not appear to notice as she hugged me tighter still before finally releasing me and taking a step back. She looked me up and down, taking in the sewing on my lap as well as Sunniva’s. The queen did not appear to be at all surprised by Ida’s behavior and had gone back to the needlework.
“You’re very pretty,” Ida said abruptly, and I felt the heat rise to my face. “You have a skill, too, which means you can’t possibly be a member of the court at Hadebrand.”
“Ida, don’t be insulting.”
“I’m not insulting her,” Ida said, defending herself. “I’m complimenting her. It’s Alexandra, correct?”
“Yes, um…Lady Ida,” I replied.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Even if I didn’t get to be there, Branford is still my brother, so that makes you my sister. Right, Mother?”
“Of course it does,” Sunniva said with a nod. Ida beamed and reached down to hug me again. I couldn’t help but cringe a little, and this time she seemed to notice.
“I always wanted a sister,” Ida said and smiled at me. She narrowed her eyes a moment, studying me intently. “You’re not from the court at another kingdom, either, are you?”
“No…um…Ida,” I stammered and tried to keep my hands from shaking. Though I knew she was trying to be kind, this woman, who was even smaller than me, was quite intimidating. “I’m a handmaid. I mean, I was a handmaid. I was one of Princess Whitney’s handmaids.”
Ida’s eyes grew wide as realization must have come to her.
“Oh, Branford,” she said softly. “What are you doing?”
I looked down at the hem of the skirt but couldn’t seem to work the needle in my shaking hands. I wondered if she would take back the part about calling me her sister and found it strange that I worried she would.
“Ida, let’s not talk of such things, please? Alexandra has had enough excitement for one day.”
“Yes, Mother.” Ida gathered her skirts up again and sat on the floor near my feet. I tensed, not sure what I should do when a noblewoman, and in this case, a princess, dropped herself down lower than me. Should I get on the floor as well? Offer her my seat?
“If you wish to sit here…” I said as I started to stand, but she dismissed my offer with a wave of her hand and told me to sit back down. She leaned toward me and peered up into my eyes.
“How did he get out of it?”
“Out of what?”
“Marrying that awful girl?”
“He said...” I paused, not really sure if I should repeat the reason Branford gave to King Edgar. However, Ida was staring at me intently, and she had asked her question so directly, I wasn’t sure I could refuse to answer. “He said she wasn't a...um...he said she wasn’t pure.”
Ida began to laugh.
“Well, he certainly knew that!”
“Ida!” Sunniva chided.
“She practically begged him, Sunniva!”
“That doesn’t mean you need to speak of it.” Sunniva scolded her adopted daughter.
“It’s her own fault for not protecting what should have been reserved for her wedding night,” Ida huffed. “That’s why I only let Parnell use his—”
“Enough!” Queen Sunniva’s voice was nothing short of a command. Her gaze went dark and effectively silenced her daughter. “Ida, go. Tell Camden and Branford that Alexandra and I will be taking dinner here.”
“Fine,” Ida mumbled, standing again. She looked back at me and smiled. “Don’t worry, Alexandra. Everything will work out.”
She traipsed out the door, closing it swiftly behind her.
“Ida can be a little energetic,” Sunniva said with a tilt of her head back toward the door, “especially when Branford’s done something to get her riled up. She really has been planning his wedding for years. I wish he would have brought you back here for the ceremony. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to see it.”
“Branford was concerned,” I said, then stopped. I didn’t know if Branford would want me to speak of anything he has said, even to his adoptive mother.
“I have the feeling he wanted to make sure everything was done before Edgar could come up with a legitimate reason to disallow it,” Sunniva said. I breathed a sigh of relief. If she guessed the reason, it wasn’t the same as me divulging information.
For a while, we sewed in silence. When the first layer was done, we flipped over the fabric and began the next layer. When we were nearly done, several servants entered the room, bringing dinner, complete with red wine, which I tried to sip, but found the taste strange and not to my liking.
“Thank you,” I finally said.
“For what, dear?”
“Um…the meal, the dress…everything.”
“You are very welcome.” Sunniva looked at me for a long moment and then took a deep breath. “I didn’t think you needed to be presented to the entire court just yet. Tomorrow will do, when we’ll have had plenty of time to prepare you. Branford really should have thought through all this, and I shall have to speak with him about it.”
“No, please.” I looked into her eyes and hoped she would hear me. “I don’t want him to think me any trouble. If I hadn’t fallen, everything would have been fine, I’m sure. I embarrassed him in front of the court in more ways than one today. I wouldn’t want to anger him about it further.”
“Alexandra,” Sunniva said as she placed her glass of wine to the side and picked up the final layer of the skirts. “I know everything has been so quick for you. To go from being a handmaid to finding yourself suddenly married to an unknown man from another kingdom…well, I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling now. Even when I was wed to Camden, I at least had an understanding of my social position.”
She completed a row of stitching and paused, looking at me.
“You’re frightened, and that’s understandable,” Sunniva told me. I nodded a little, not sure if I should answer her or not. “But you are going to have to understand you are no longer a servant and start acting as the wife of a future king. The longer you consider yourself beneath those in the court, the longer it will take them to accept you.”
I looked up into her eyes, trying to determine if she truly meant what she said. Her eyes were serious and somber, and I tried to reflect on her words. I was the wife of a future king. I hadn’t allowed myself to even think quite so far into the future, and even taking the notion into consideration was far more foreign than the idea of marriage itself. I had no idea where to even begin.
“I’m not sure I know what to do,” I admitted. “I’ve always been a servant to nobles, not one of them. I…I really don’t know how to do this.”
“Tell me something, Alexandra.” Sunniva sat up straighter on the stool and tilted her head to look at me. “What kind of wife do you wish to be?”
“I…I…I don’t understand,” I stuttered, again too unsure of what her intentions were to give her a suitable answer.
“Do you want to be a good wife for Branford?”
“Yes, my queen!” I said quickly. “I took the oath of marriage with him—I want to be a good wife.”
“To be Branford’s wife, you have to be noble,” Sunniva said curtly. “I don’t mean you have to be a noble or of noble blood, but you will have to be noble of heart. You will have to learn to be assertive and demand what you believe is right and correct. Fortunately, it sounds like you have some of that inside of you already, or I would be more concerned.”
“You think I’m noble of heart?”
“Yes, Alexandra.” Sunniva smiled again. “Tell me—why did you ask B
ranford to spare the carriage driver’s life?”
“It wasn’t his fault,” I said. “I’ve always been a little unsure on my feet. He should not have had to pay in such a way for my clumsiness.”
“Do you see? You can be assertive when you find it necessary. I think many people would have turned the other way and forgotten about it, but you saw something you considered wrong and stood up to Branford because of it. Branford is not the easiest man to confront, yet you did it, and he listened.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I said. I remembered Branford saying we would speak of the situation later and felt myself go cold. No wonder he was angry. “He was angry with me over it. I didn’t mean to overstep—”
“Don’t you dare apologize for that!” Sunniva snapped. “That kind of thing is exactly what you must embrace if you are going to survive in this world, Alexandra.”
She took a deep breath and completed the final stitches on her side. Again, she was far ahead of me, and I began to work quickly to catch up. Sunniva’s kind smile reappeared, and she shifted the fabric to trim some loose threads.
“Someday, you are going to be the Queen of Silverhelm. Do you realize that? There will be an entire kingdom of men, women, and children—noble and serf—who will be dependent on your judgment. The responsibility is not one to take lightly.”
My gaze met hers, and I’m sure she knew from my expression that the thought had not occurred to me. There were way too many things to consider, and I hadn’t thought of any of them. I had barely comprehended the idea of marriage before I was wed and hadn’t realized the intentions of my husband on our wedding night until the time was upon me. I had been so ill-prepared, but I could not be ill-prepared for this. All of those people depending on me?
“How will I know what to do?” My words came out in a throaty whisper.
“I’m going to teach you,” Sunniva said simply. Before she could elaborate, there was a knock, and the door opened slowly. Branford walked in though not very far, taking in both Sunniva and me as we completed our work.
