by Shay Savage
“It changes much,” I said, for this was not going to be about denying what was happening. “It just does not mean we are no longer friends or that we cannot speak of it or any other topic we choose.”
Hadley smiled and nodded. I reached over and took her hand.
“Tell me, Hadley,” I said softly. “Tell me what happened last night. Branford would not speak of it.”
Hadley’s eyes went wide as I tried to keep my expression calm and unassuming. I did not wish to do anything that would keep her from telling me an honest account. I was not sure if I was altogether successful since Hadley’s expression remained doubtful.
Looking away from her, I closed my eyes and tried to force my own fears out of my mind. I did not really want to know, but not knowing was driving my mind in circles.
“Do you really wish to know these things?” she asked with tension in her voice.
“I do,” I told her, and the look in her eyes reflected my own look of disbelief. As much as I wanted to ignore it all for my own sake, knowledge would put me at ease. “Branford refused to tell me, but I still need to know.”
Hadley seemed to understand, and we both took deep breaths before she looked toward the window and began speaking.
“Queen Sunniva prepared me,” Hadley said. “She dressed me in strange clothing—like nothing I had ever seen on a woman or a man. It covered all of me, save…one small area. Even my face was draped with a sheer mask.”
I nodded.
“She also…put something on me,” Hadley said, and I saw the pink tinge in her cheek as her voice dropped lower. “In me, really. It was slippery, but I don’t know what it was. She told me to turn my head to the side and think of my duty to you, to Sir Branford, and to Silverhelm, and then she left.”
“And Branford then came to you?” I asked. I did not want to prolong the conversation that had my stomach tied in knots.
“Yes,” she said with a nod. Hadley lowered her eyes to the ground and took a deep breath. I was sure she knew what I both wanted and did not want to hear.
“Go on,” I said, encouraging her, but I could not stop the thickening of my voice. I swallowed hard and took Hadley’s hand. I tried not to let the cold feeling of dread creep its way up my arms.
“He could not…do anything,” she said quietly, “at first. He was…angry…and he frightened me. He left and then came back again, and he was calmer. I know I was not supposed to look at him, but it had been some time, and he had not touched me…”
Hadley glanced to my face.
“He was…touching himself with his eyes closed.” She shifted her body slightly on the couch and took a deep breath. “He did not approach until the last possible moment, and then he was very quickly done.”
I tried my best not to conjure up the images of my husband standing in the room across the castle, his long fingers wrapped around himself as he prepared to…
I shook my head to rid myself of the thoughts and tried to think more logically. I was asking these questions of Hadley to make sure she was all right, not to fulfill my own morbid curiosity, and part of her description was upsetting.
“He was harsh,” I said quietly.
“He was not harsh,” Hadley said softly. “I did not feel those pleasures you have described to me, but he was not rough. It did not hurt but for a moment.”
I nodded, and my emotions were torn. I was glad Branford had not hurt her unduly, but I was also glad he had not given her release. At the same time, I was sad for Hadley that she did not know the pleasure a man could bring to her.
I felt Hadley’s hand on my arm.
“He never touched me with his hands,” she said, and I could only assume she meant it to be reassuring when I had been hoping to be the one to reassure her. How ironic. I wondered if there was an objective observer who could determine which of us was most in need of comfort, but it occurred to me that it might not be either of us.
“Once there is a boy child,” I told her, “we shall make sure to find you a proper husband.”
I reached over to take her hand in mine, and Hadley tried to smile at me.
“If you see one of the unmarried soldiers, and you fancy him, you will let me know?”
Hadley’s cheeks reddened a little.
“You have already seen one you like?” I guessed.
She shrugged slightly, and the bright color came back into her cheeks.
“I do not actually know him,” she said, “but when he was practicing with Sir Branford, I thought him most pleasing to look upon. I do not even know his name or station.”
“When did you see him?”
“When Sir Branford was on the practice field with his soldiers this morning,” Hadley replied. “Samantha led me through the marketplace, and she pointed them out. The one that caught my eye wore a breastplate with a cross on the front of it. We only watched them for a moment.”
“That would have been Sir Brigham.”
“Sir Brigham,” she repeated softly. “He must be a true knight then, so I am sure there would be others better suited…”
“Hadley,” I interrupted, “was your status as a concubine not explained to you?”
“My lady?” she said softly, her eyes widening a little.
“Hadley, your service to Silverhelm does not go unrecognized,” I told her. “When your duty has been fulfilled, you would be quite suited for a knight.”
Hadley seemed to mull this over for a while.
“That could be some time,” she finally said. “Children take time to bear, and if the first child is not a boy, I would need to bear another one.”
I agreed, for there was no denying it. It could be many years before Hadley was available for marriage.
“He would be wed to another in that time,” she said quietly.
“Possibly,” I said, “but he is young and not looking for marriage now. He may very well wait for a woman of your station.”
“Is my station truly so great now?” Hadley asked. “A knight waiting for me does not seem possible.”
“A prince taking my hand in marriage did not seem possible either,” I said. “It is a strange thing how stations I always believed to be enduring can change.”
“I suppose we should consider ourselves favored,” Hadley said.
As I thought upon her words, I felt my mouth turn up in a wry smile. There were probably many who would consider us lucky to have been elevated from our previous stations. When I had been a mere handmaid, I believed the lives of the nobles to be a simple thing, especially the royals. They rarely had to lift a finger, and everything was brought to them when they asked for it. Now I knew better though I would trade none of it. To desert my station would mean to not have my Branford, and being his was worth the difficulties that came with being his wife. Still, I did not think the word favored fit us.
“I am not so sure about that,” I responded.
And that is when I realized being of royalty would never guarantee an ease of life.
Chapter 27—Moderately Mollify
Branford did not come to our rooms that night, but I learned from Dunstan that he did not return to Hadley either. It wasn’t until morning when I found him again. He was in the practice fields with his men and eventually acknowledged me when I went around the fence and right up to him. He dismissed me almost as soon as I arrived and did not return to our rooms until late that night, either. I tried not to think much of it, for there were times when he needed to be on his own and work his thoughts out in solitude, and I was not surprised this was one of those times.
The next day, a baby girl blessed the Sawyer family. Ida and Parnell named her Emma, and I accompanied Sunniva on a journey to meet the new child as Branford stayed behind to look after Camden. The king’s health had taken a turn for the worse, and he was not fit to travel. He would wait and meet his grandchild in a fortnight when she would be brought to Silverhelm.
If the king lived that long.
The child was beautiful with bright bl
ue eyes to match her father’s. Though I could not help but feel the pang in my stomach and longing in my heart for a child of my own—a child of Branford’s—I also could not stop myself from smiling at the joy in Ida’s face as she held her daughter to her breast. Parnell stood quietly behind them both with his hand resting upon his wife’s shoulder and a look of awe in his eye.
We were gone for only a handful of days, but when we returned to Silverhelm, Branford immediately announced he had to journey north and took his leave of us. When I asked him about it, he shook his head at me and refused to give me any details. He was already prepared to go.
He did not even wait until morning to leave.
When he returned, his mood was most foul, and he immediately began barking at servants left and right in ways he had not in quite some time. When I tried to speak with him about it, he snapped at me as well before storming out of our rooms.
Again, he did not return in the night, and Dunstan informed me he was with the men on the practice field so late, he had decided to sleep in the barracks.
Even as winter deepened and came at us with biting winds, Branford began to spend his days fighting in the practice fields and teaching some of the younger men who would replace our lost soldiers and guards. He would stay there until it was quite late, often sleeping in the barracks and only returning to our rooms when he knew I should be sleeping. As the days passed, his beard grew, but when I offered to shave him, he said he did not have the time and suggested we do it another day.
As I tried to respect his wishes, I felt my body grow as cold as the look in his eyes when he gazed upon me. I no longer saw the passion he had so readily displayed or the desire for me that had so often consumed him.
He had not held me since the night we spent in the kennels.
I tried to convince myself that this was understandable—he detested what he was forced to do and knew I wanted to be the one to bear his child—but to be left sitting in our rooms alone at night weighed heavily upon me.
I felt more a failure as his wife now than I had the first week of our marriage.
It was not just my apparent inability to give him what he needed most, but he had avoided my company so completely that I had not even the opportunity to do those simple things I had done for him every day. He took his meals elsewhere when he ate at all, and his hair and his beard both grew longer than they had been since our marriage. He no longer asked me to read to him, as had been our habit since I had first learned the letters, and he no longer lay his fingers at the top of my head to stroke my hair.
He was certainly not spending his nights with me. Indeed, as the time passed, he barely spoke to me at all. Times when we were to appear together, he would smile at the other court members, take my hand on the dance floor, and sit with me through official dinners, but as soon as he was able, he would take his leave.
I tried to give him the space he seemed to require, hoping that as soon as Hadley was with child, he would stop berating himself and come back to me. I went to our bed alone at night, waited for him for some time, and then would end up falling asleep alone. If he was there when I woke, he would leave before breakfast was brought to us and even before I could heat water for his tea.
When he spoke, his sentences were short and succinct.
He no longer responded in kind when I told him I loved him.
Sunniva told me he kept in close contact with Camden, would eat when something was brought to him, and was going to Hadley on the days he was obligated though never any others. My heart was torn—part of me wanting him to give her a child quickly so his melancholy state could be tempered, and the other part glad to know he was not spending any more time with her than was required of him.
My chest grew heavy as I watched him move further and further away from me, unsure of what I should do and praying Hadley would carry a child for us soon so I could find a way to bring my husband back to me. However, my prayers were not answered.
Spring came and went, and Hadley was still not with child.
“Sit with me,” I said quietly to her as I sat in the Women’s Room with my sewing in hand.
“Of course,” Hadley said softly. She had only just entered the room where I was already staying the previous night though I probably could have stayed in my own rooms. Branford had apparently left for Seacrest though he had not even informed me of his departure.
“Are you well?” I asked.
She tilted her head to the side, and I nodded to Janet, who brought us both tea and fruit.
“I saw you walking in the garden with Sir Brigham,” I said with my lips in a tight, teasing smile. Hadley blushed and nodded. Given her role, Sir Brigham was not allowed to touch Hadley, but they seemed to enjoy their time together. She was also always accompanied by Samantha or one of the other women. I hoped for Hadley’s sake she would someday be able to be at Sir Brigham’s side.
“He is…kind.”
“He is,” I agreed.
Hadley looked around the room as she sipped her tea, and as the other women moved farther away, she leaned toward me.
“Is Sir Branford terribly angry?” she asked.
I could only shake my head.
“I do not believe anger is what plagues his mind,” I told her. “I cannot say for sure, for he has not spoken to me of many matters for some time now.”
“He does not speak to me,” she said softly.
I felt a now familiar pang in my chest, and as my throat tightened, I swallowed hard and blinked several times. As I fought to control the emotions that threatened to overcome me, I felt Hadley’s hand on my arm and looked at her.
“I am sorry it is this way for you,” I whispered. “I thought…well, we all thought…”
“I should be with child,” she stated.
“Yes.”
“Alexandra?” Hadley turned her questioning eyes to me. “Is it…is it possible that Sir Branford…could he…or rather, perhaps he cannot…”
I shook my head slightly, but sharply. I understood what she was suggesting, but if such an insult were heard from her lips, it would not be taken kindly by many in the kingdom.
Some thoughts were simply not spoken.
*****
Branford’s state deteriorated as the months went by. He spent many, many hours in council with King Camden, who was now forced to rule from the royal bed. Edgar made a point of coming to Silverhelm at least once a week, demanding to see Camden for himself and insisting Branford take the throne immediately. Branford refused on both accounts, but even with our distance, I could see the strain it placed on him as Edgar continuously threatened both Branford and Silverhelm with violence if he did not get his way.
Branford rarely spoke to me or even looked my way unless decorum demanded it.
As the summer heat beat down on the castle walls, Ida and Parnell came to visit from Sawyer with their petite daughter, Emma. She was already becoming a beautiful blending of her parent’s features—with Parnell’s laughing blue eyes and Ida’s dark, straight hair. I took the child in my arms and held her up high, smiling as she giggled down at me.
Branford acknowledged his sister and her family but turned away from them quickly. His gaze met mine, but he looked away from me and down to the floor. Ida glanced at me, and the hurt in her eyes was evident. Though I had traveled many times to Sawyer since Emma’s birth, it was the first time Branford had even laid eyes on his niece because he had been away when Ida brought her to meet Camden. Every time we were to visit, Branford would come up with an excuse not to go to Sawyer.
It was then I decided enough was enough. I returned the child to her mother, made my apologies, and followed him out the door and into the hallway.
“Branford?” I called. He did not turn, and I had to hold up my skirts and quicken my pace to keep up with him. “Branford!”
He made his way through the door to our rooms, and I followed after him, still calling his name. As I shut the door to block anyone who may have tried to follow, he stopp
ed with his head still tipped down to the floor and his back to me.
I walked up and around him, tilting my head to the side to peer into his face.
“Will you not even acknowledge your niece?” I looked up at his eyes and was met with the same cold stare that had become common with him. I reached for his hand, but he pulled away before I could touch him.
“I saw her,” Branford said curtly. “She seems in good health. Parnell is very proud and speaks of Ida bearing him a son next, God willing.”
His stoicism was downright annoying.
“Branford…you cannot continue to shut me out,” I told him. This time when I reached for his hand, I grabbed it before he could pull it away. I slipped my fingers in between his and heard his long intake of breath. “I know it has been…difficult…but we cannot continue this way.”
Branford looked toward the wall and blinked a few times before speaking.
“Camden is dying,” he said. “He may last a few more days, possibly a fortnight, but his time is at an end. That is why I asked Ida and Parnell to come here. Camden has asked me to take the throne before he dies.”
I felt a cold shiver run through my body. Though we knew this day would come sooner rather than later, I thought there would be more time.
My husband’s gaze turned to me, the cold, unfeeling stare I had seen in his eyes these past months vanished, and I saw my Branford behind his lashes.
“I am not ready to be king,” he said quietly. “I do not even think I want it.”
“Branford, you must…”
“I know I must!” He growled as he shook free of my hand. “That is not the point!”
He breathed deeply as his hand ran through his long, tousled hair. When he turned back to me, I saw how much he had really aged in the past year. He no longer looked like the youthful, strong knight that had first taken me by my waist and pulled me from the stands at Hadebrand’s arena. Now he looked older, broken, and lost.
“I thought…for a time…maybe God had forgiven me,” he said. His voice had again grown quiet. “Everything with you was so…so perfect. And then, every choice I made slowly destroyed that perfection and left me with what I have now—a broken kingdom, frightened subjects, a tyrant ready to pounce on all I hold dear, a wife who…who…”
