by Shay Savage
Branford looked at me sideways.
“Eavesdropping again?”
“You still do not tell me everything.”
“I knew you were listening,” he said with a shrug. “You always look over that spot when you are thoughtful.”
I didn’t realize he had noticed.
“She wants to claim you,” I said.
“And her argument is always the same,” he said with a nod. “At some point…”
“At some point, what?” I asked.
“We still have no child on the way,” he finally said, “and the summer is getting late.”
“There is still some time,” I said.
“Not according to the court,” Branford replied. There was something in his tone I disliked immensely.
“Will they side with him?” I asked quietly. Though Branford’s word would still be taken as law, not to have the support of the court in his decisions could lead to distrust and eventually upheaval or even worse—revolt.
“Edgar has officially made the declaration I have known he would,” Branford said. “He has decreed you unfit as the wife of a noble and a queen. He has demanded that I denounce you and take Whitney as my wife. If I do not, he will take Silverhelm by force and place Sir Remy on the throne here.”
Branford turned and placed his hand on my cheek.
“I refused,” he replied softly.
“He has declared war? Openly?”
“He has given me no other options, Alexandra.” Branford released my cheek and sat back, pulling his knees up in front of him. “The court will side with him if I do not have an heir on the way.”
“Hadley said…she said you stopped coming to her.”
Branford glanced at me sideways.
“She was not supposed to speak of it,” he mumbled. “Obviously she is unable to bear children, or she…”
He stopped speaking and rubbed his fingers into his eyes.
“I do not wish to speak of this,” he said. “I will not go back to her.”
I bit my lower lip as I looked away from him. The conversation I had with Hadley in the Women’s Room filled my head. I swallowed hard and then turned to him—steeling myself to speak words that would likely mean death if they were to come from someone else’s mouth.
“What if it is not Hadley who cannot bear a child?” I asked quietly. My shoulders curled inward with the tension held in them.
“Obviously she cannot bear a child,” Branford said with a growl. “If she could, she would have by now!”
“But what if it is not her?” I repeated as I closed my eyes.
“What else could it be, Alexandra?”
“Branford…” I paused and took a deep breath. “It could be you.”
“Do not be ridiculous.”
“But what if it is?” I asked. “What if it is you who cannot father a child, and it has nothing to do with either me or Hadley?”
He shook his head.
“Branford, if it is you, it would not matter how many concubines you took. It wouldn’t matter if you married Whitney!”
“It is not me, Alexandra.”
“It could be.”
“No, it could not,” Branford insisted as he glared at me. “Even making such a suggestion…”
“How do you know it could not be you?” I finally said back to him. When he did not respond, I pressed again and again until he gave me an answer that had never taken form in my mind.
“Because I have already fathered a child!” Branford screamed as his fists pounded against the ground. He stood and walked several feet away from me.
My head dropped forward as I stared at a spot on the blanket in front of where I sat. I felt chilled though the breeze through the meadow was warm.
“Branford?” I whispered. Though my voice was low, he turned toward me, his eyes downcast.
“I was young,” he said quietly. “I did not think of the consequences of…of spilling my seed inside of her.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Bridgett, the daughter of the Duke of Seacrest.”
I looked up then and stared into his face.
“Why did you not say this before?” I asked, my voice filled with uncustomary censure. “Could not this child be your heir?”
When he did not respond, I reconsidered and then questioned him again.
“Is it a girl child?”
“She…was.” Branford took a long breath and tugged at his hair with his fingers. “She lived but a few weeks before an illness took her.”
So this was not going to help us at all, but just another piece of information Branford had never thought to bestow upon me.
“Did you not think it was important to tell me you had a child before?”
“She did not live,” Branford said with a shake of his head. “I do not wish to—”
“To burden me!” I cried out and saw him startle. “I know you do not! And yet you do all the time by not giving me the information I need to know!”
“I am surprised Sunniva never told you.”
“She should not have to tell me!” I said. I also stood and took several steps toward him as he backed away. “What else should I know?”
“Nothing, Alexandra, I swear,” he said as he continued to tug at his hair.
Without warning, Branford’s eyes widened, and his head tilted a little to one side. He rushed toward me and grabbed me by my arms. For the briefest moment, I was frightened. I had raised my voice and insulted not only my husband but my king.
His reaction surprised me.
His lips crashed against mine, and his mouth stole my breath. He was not gentle but kissed me as his hands groped my body, and his tongue eagerly sought my mouth. He pulled my body close to his, turning me to the side and away from the path where we had entered the meadow. His mouth left mine as he kissed up the side of my jaw.
His lips touched my ear.
“Do not stop,” he whispered softly. “We have been followed, and they are close, but do not stop.”
“Branford…” I tried to catch my breath, my eyes wide.
“Close your eyes!” he said, and I quickly complied. His grip on me tightened.
“Who?”
“I do not know,” he replied. “But I have no doubt—”
Branford was interrupted by a short scream from the woods. There were the sounds of a scuffle and the breaking of branches, followed by another muffled groan and a thump.
“Sire!” I heard Sir Brigham’s voice coming from the woods near the path.
Branford pulled me behind him as he took a step forward.
“Brigham!” he called out. “Where is Dunstan?”
“I’m here, sire!” Dunstan called out. I saw movement in the trees and recognized his shuffling walk. “It is safe.”
Branford trailed his hand down my arm and grasped my fingers. He pulled me behind him as he approached the group. Dunstan had his crossbow drawn, and Sir Brigham’s sword was in his hand as well, the metal shining with dark blood. There were two men on the ground, one with an arrow through his throat and the other with a sword wound through his back.
I gasped, and Branford turned to pull my head to his chest.
“Close your eyes, Alexandra,” he whispered into my hair and then addressed the two men. “I told you not to attack.”
“He was taking aim, sire,” Dunstan said. “I know this one. I remember him from the war.”
“Randall,” Sir Brigham replied. “He led one of the groups against us. This other one, though—I have never seen him before.”
“I know who he is,” Branford said. I looked up from his chest and saw him scowling at the ground. I could feel his heart hammering underneath my cheek.
“Sire?” Sir Brigham inquired.
“His name,” Branford said after he took a long breath, “was Dalton. He helped murder my father and mother.”
I moved my hand to his shoulder, and he looked down at me, his eyes empty.
“They came to kill us?”
Branford nodded.
“Do you think they would have targeted both of you?” Dunstan asked.
Branford turned back to his men.
“This just proves everything I have feared,” Branford said quietly. “He will stop at nothing unless I…”
He turned to me, and the pain in his eyes hit me through the heart. I knew what he was saying.
“You would allow this?” I finally whispered. “You would allow Edgar to push me from you?”
“You would still be with me,” he said quietly, looking away. I reached up to touch the side of his face, but his eyes did not meet mine as he spoke. “You would still have my heart—you would still be my only love. You would take Hadley’s place as my concubine.”
I shook my head slowly.
“It would be much more commonplace in my position,” Branford said through clenched jaws, “to have you as my concubine. Wives are for the politics of the show, and concubines are for love. It will always be you I love, Alexandra. You are the only one in my heart.”
“How can you say that when you would deny my place at your side? The very first day you brought me here, you said you would defend my position.”
Branford covered his face with his hands. He took several slow breaths and then turned to Sir Brigham.
“Go,” he said. “We will return shortly.”
“Sire, I would not want to leave you unprotected…”
“Go!” Branford shouted. “Leave now! Send someone to deal with this…this mess.”
With only murmured protests, Sir Brigham and Dunstan returned to their horses and rode slowly away from us.
“Pack up our things,” Branford said to me.
“Get them yourself!” I spat back. “Or perhaps your new wife will come get them!”
I stomped away, infuriated with Branford, with the dead men on the ground near his feet, with Edgar, with Whitney, and with myself. I went to where Romero grazed on the other side of the meadow with Branford’s footsteps close behind me.
“You will not speak to me in such a way!” he yelled as he grabbed my arm and turned me around. “I am your king whether you are my queen or my slave!”
He gripped my shoulders, and he pulled me close to him, his eyes blazing.
“Whether it is in the morning, midday, or night, you will speak to me with respect! Even in twilight, you will know your place!”
The word he emphasized hit me as hard as if he had slapped me in the face, and I immediately understood. We were not alone. There were others still nearby, listening to us. Whether they were also there to kill us or only to report back on what they had seen and heard, I did not know, but I knew we were most certainly not alone.
I swallowed hard and nodded my head once in understanding.
“Yes…yes, sire,” I responded as I stared into his deep, green eyes.
We rode quickly and quietly back to Castle Silverhelm, and though Branford never turned around to look behind us, I could feel the tension in his grip on me as we rode through the forest. His head was tilted slightly, angling his ear toward our backs. Once we returned, he leaned close to my ear and told me to make sure I did not go anywhere without my guard.
Branford slept little that night.
I could still feel the presence of Sir Brigham and Dunstan behind me as I strolled through the marketplace outside the castle gates the next morning. I stopped near the fruit stand and purchased apples and pears, which I placed in a basket on my arm. My guards followed at a respectable distance as I walked through the stalls though they came closer as I left the security of the castle walls.
There were a few children there, begging in the streets as they did most days. I made sure they had something in their bellies before I moved on, further emptying my basket for the other unfortunate souls who had come as refugees from Wynton and other areas of Hadebrand.
“May God bless you,” an older woman who sat on the ground with her grandchild said as I left extra fruit in her lap. The child’s parents were killed as supporters of Silverhelm after the prior war. The woman reached for my hand, and I allowed her to take it and kiss my knuckles. She was unable to work, and the boy was too young and weak with a sickness to offer her any assistance. I smiled down at her and nodded my head.
As I handed my last apple to a man who seemed to still be in good health though he was thin and ragged looking, I saw Father Tucker approach with a smile on his face. He was followed by a young lad in his service, who carried a bucket of water for the refugees.
“Good morning, Father Tucker,” I said quietly.
“My queen,” he responded as he bowed low to me. I felt heat creep to my face. Though I had grown accustomed to the commoners behaving in such a way, I thought Father Tucker above such behavior. He was a man of God and should not have to bow to anyone else. “How do you fare today?”
“Well,” I responded.
“You are making your rounds ahead of us this morning,” he remarked. “It is still quite early.”
“The sun seemed warm already,” I replied. “I thought it may be too hot for them to wait very long. They will need to seek shelter from the sun.”
He nodded as he peered at my face.
“You seem troubled, my queen.”
“I am fine, thank you,” I replied. He tilted his head and raised his brows at me.
“All is not well in the court?” he asked, his tone nonchalant. He knew well what went on inside the castle walls.
“Branford is troubled,” I said. “Our time is short and…”
I looked around though there was no one too close to us. I did not wish to alarm our people.
“I am still not…” My words faltered.
“I understand, my queen.”
I looked to his eyes, and indeed, they did seem to hold understanding. Perhaps he understood more than I. I felt as though I did not understand any of it, and tears burned in my eyes as I looked at him.
“Why?” I asked him as I tried to blink the tears from my eyes. “Why would we be denied this and have our people placed in harm’s way because of it?”
Father Tucker’s chest rose with his breath.
“Queen Alexandra,” he said softly as his fingers touched my arm, “there is only one who can answer such questions. If that is what you seek, you will have to ask God.”
I nodded, and I knew he was right.
I continued along the walkway, my feet slowly carrying me to a place I had never frequented though I knew Branford had spent many hours at the chapel just outside the walls of Silverhelm Castle. I glanced over my shoulder and saw both Dunstan and Sir Brigham stop at the bottom of the stairs to the doorway as I continued up. They left me in peace as I opened the door to the church and slipped inside. It was cool out of the sun though there was still bright light coming from the windows as well as the candles lining the front of the church near the altar.
I reached out and my fingers grazed over the smooth wood of the pews as I walked down the aisle. The wood was warm, and the morning light coming through the stained glass windows cast bright colors over the floors and benches. I reached the front of the chapel and gathered my skirts to walk up the few stairs that led to the altar. I knelt and looked up at the colorful glass at the back of the church. My lungs filled with the scent of the candles all around as I turned my eyes toward the ceiling.
“I do not know you as Branford does,” I said aloud. “Perhaps that has been my failing. I know Branford asks you time and time again to bless me with a child, and now…well, now it seems that is not to be.”
My voice cracked, and a sob escaped my throat. My own words had a tone of finality to them, and I dropped my head into my hands as I knelt at the altar. I did not understand what I had done wrong to bring all of this upon us.
“Have I not been a good enough wife?” I asked as trails of wetness began to coat my cheeks. “Have I not done what was required of me to be worthy of him? If there is anything I must do to make this work…to stay with Branford a
nd give him the heir he needs myself…anything…I will do it. I just…I do not know what I should do.”
Again, my eyes rose to the heavens.
“Please…please do not let this come to pass. Do not let our people suffer another war because I cannot give my kingdom an heir.”
*****
It was as if my most horrific nightmare was coming true right before my eyes. Court had convened to discuss Edgar’s threat of war. Branford sat on his throne and vehemently refused their decree. He said he would not renounce our marriage even if it meant going to war. The court disagreed, and as they continued to remind him that war would be a slaughter, Branford continued to tell them it would only be a matter of time. His advisor, Phillip, argued with nearly his every word.
“Even if I do this thing you ask,” Branford said, growling at his advisor, “which I will not, it does not stop war! It only puts his puppet next to me instead of Alexandra!”
“I will stand behind you, whatever the decision,” Lord William announced, “but I know if war comes to Silverhelm and Silverhelm falls, the consequences will be dire for us all.”
“Alexandra,” Phillip said as he looked at me, “you know you do not want your people to suffer another war. Look at Wynton and how they still suffer because of—”
“Enough!” Branford bellowed. “You will not use her compassion against her!”
“Branford,” I said softly. “Perhaps—”
“No!”
The doors opened at the end of the great hall. King Edgar, Princess Whitney, and four of their guards entered. They were early, which was undoubtedly their intent. They walked quickly and with a clear objective. King Edgar walked straight up to Branford while Whitney came to stand so close to me, I had to take a step backwards.
“The time has come, King Branford!” Edgar announced as he approached. “Your discussions with your advisors are at an end, and my army stands at the ready. Your decision must come now.”
Branford glanced at Dunstan as he hobbled into the room, trailing the guards. I saw Dunstan nod once and knew Branford’s informants had confirmed Hadebrand was prepared to carry through with the threat.
Whitney sneered at me openly.
“You are early,” Branford said quietly. “We have not yet reached our conclusion.”
