King of the Unblessed

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “You are hopeless when it comes to gallantry, brother.” Juliana punched him lightly in the arm even as she laughed. “Nicholas used to tell me I ought to be careful, lest the devil hear me and take me away with him.”

  “Methinks that would have encouraged you.” Thomas let her walk before him up the circular stairwell to the great hall.

  “It did,” she admitted, trailing her hand over the stone. She stopped, turning to look down in the dim light. Juliana couldn’t read Thomas’ features. “Nicholas won’t be here for the wedding. He, ah, doesn’t approve of it.”

  “Nonsense,” Thomas said, but his tone was unconvincing. “You and he are friends, Juliana. How could he object? Oft, as boys, methought there might be more between you. I know our father hoped as much.”

  “Hmm, if you say so. Though, there is nothing between Nicholas and me. I feel friendship for him, as I do all my brothers. He’s never declared that he feels differently.” Juliana sighed softly, continuing the climb up to the great hall.

  “And if he did?”

  “Nicholas is…” Juliana hesitated. Nicholas was what? “Nicholas.”

  “Ah.” Thomas nodded knowingly. Juliana wasn’t sure exactly what he thought to know.

  Servants put empty goblets out on the tables, readying it for the eve meal. Along one wall was a platform, set up from rest of the hall. There, the family dined, along with honored guests. Blue tapestries hung on the wall, along with the Bellemare crest—a black stallion statant on a field of green. Below the high table were the permanent dining tables and benches set up for the servants, soldiers and freemen of the keep. The fact that the tables were permanent fixtures in the manor, and not the usual portable kind, showed the vast extent of the Bellemare wealth. A large stone fireplace sat along the wall opposite the head table. A fire burned brightly, giving the hall light when the sun did not shine through the iron-grated windows or when the oak shutters were closed. There were also many candles, made from animal fat and beeswax, placed along spikes in the stone walls.

  Juliana wanted to say more, but Thomas was greeted by servants and knights excited to see him home. She kissed her brother’s cheek and promised to find him later, after he met with Hugh. Standing in the doorway to the stairwell, she watched him for a moment, proud of the man he was. She loved all her brothers, for they were each great men—honorable, brave, handsome, loyal. Sighing wistfully, happy Thomas had finally come home, she walked out of the hall to leave the way they’d come.

  * * *

  Thomas watched his sister walk away from him before cheerfully returning the good wishes he received from the servants. Juliana was pale, thin. Her blue linen gown hung loosely on her frame, showing the cream chemise underneath at the forearms and neck. The sleeves of the overtunic trailed down to the floor from her elbows. She was a beautiful woman, made more so by the kindness in her. Even her naiveté added to her innocent charm.

  Juliana had grown up in the protection of Bellemare, spoiled by parents who loved her before their deaths and guarded by brothers who adored her. Thomas knew the idea of marriage was hard on her in many ways. His sister had always been a dreamer. He loved that about her, all the brothers did. But the look in her eyes this day was different. She was sad, bothered, almost haunted.

  Juliana had just celebrated her twentieth year, well past the time young women married. Although the brothers would gladly keep her well into old age, it wasn’t fair to her. She deserved a family of her own, children of her own. At least with Eadward, she’d be close to Bellemare should she ever need them.

  In the world they lived in, Lord Eadward of Tyrshire was a good match. He was the younger brother of a rich Marquis, a Marquis who had no other heirs as of yet. He had many knights under his command and political alliances. His land was prosperous and adjoined their own. But, in the world Juliana lived in, the marriage was more like an imprisonment.

  Thomas knew Lord Eadward to be a kind, generous man. He’d make her a good husband. His son, Sir Nicholas, had grown up with them. Hugh would have given Juliana to Nicholas, as they were of like ages, if she’d ever shown the smallest inclination toward him. Juliana hadn’t and Nicholas never once asked for her hand. Given that, Lord Eadward was the better choice.

  Hugh had struggled with his decision for nearly a year, though the brothers never told Juliana about it. The earl only signed the betrothal agreement after he, Thomas and William were of a like mind. In the end, it had been decided it was better to marry her off to a man of their choosing before she caught the king’s notice and he married her off to a man of his.

  “Sir Thomas, it’s good to have you home,” a pretty servant said. She curtsied before handing him a goblet of mead.

  “Aye, Tressa, it’s good to be back at our beloved Bellemare.” Thomas smiled, his gaze alighting on the woman. He knew her well, so well that he could easily picture the speckled birthmark on her inner thigh. When her eyes met his, he glanced toward the ceiling in invitation.

  The woman bit the corner of her lip and gave a quick nod. Thomas’ grin widened with anticipation. As she scurried off, he thought, Mm, it’s good to be home indeed.

  * * *

  Juliana glanced around the side courtyard from the kitchen’s entryway. She heard the sound of servants busily at work behind her, preparing a great feast. With all the noble families at market, the hall would be filled during the evening meal. The smell of baking bread and roasted chicken permeated the air. A small herb garden was nearby. Being as it was spring, the plants were young, but soon their fragrance would fill the air to war with the smell of the kitchen.

  Juliana looked around. The side yard was empty, as she had known it would be. The area was private, accessible from the main courtyard, but not obviously so. She took a deep breath and then another. It did little to calm her. Tomorrow she’d be married. She wasn’t as nervous as she should have been, but she wasn’t excited either. If anything, she was sad. Her eyes tried to fill with tears, but she wouldn’t let them. She knew the world she told the children of didn’t exist, but it didn’t stop her from longing for more, from daydreaming. Some nights the yearning inside her was almost unbearable. On those nights she would dream. The images were blurry, but the feelings of desire she awoke with were real—desires of the flesh, desires of the heart, desires of her very soul.

  She longed for a man of that other world to come for her. Sure, it was a fanciful dream—one told many times by young maidens wanting to escape. Still, as she lay awake at night, she could almost feel him watching her. Juliana had always had a vivid imagination.

  A chill washed over her, causing her to tremble. The air felt cooler, but she could attribute that to the evening being close upon them. Eadward was coming for her, could possibly even be there that night. Tomorrow they’d be wed. He was a good man and would make an adequate husband. He’d been a friend of her father and was now one to her brothers. The wedding night would be a little awkward, but such was the burden of being a woman.

  Nicholas wasn’t happy about the match and she suspected he didn’t want her as his lady mother. She couldn’t blame him. Nicholas would never feel like her son. Though they teased each other often as children, he was her friend and his opinion mattered. Regardless of how they felt, there was nothing to be done about it, for the marriage wasn’t her decision to make.

  “Where are you, Sir Knight? Why haven’t you come to rescue me? I’d trade my soul to you for an adventure,” she whispered to herself, closing her eyes. She reached out with her feelings, willing him to come to her. “Just one good adventure. Take me away with you to foreign lands. Show me the castles and palaces of enemy kings. Dance with me under stars by the light of a dragon’s breath. Please, rescue me, Sir Knight.”

  “I wouldn’t demand your soul, my lady, just your undying loyalty for an eternity.”

  The tone was low, gravelly. A blush heated Juliana’s features as she realized she’d been overheard. What would Hugh say if he found out she’d been talking to herself?
Again. She suppressed a loud groan as she quickly turned to see who spoke.

  Dark eyes stared at her from a handsome face. His skin was tanned, his features hard. Leather bound back the locks of his unfashionably long blond hair, winding down the length from his temples to just above his waist. She swallowed, suddenly very nervous. Her heart beat faster, quickening like it did in her dreams.

  He had to be a knight, for he looked strong and broad of shoulders. Juliana knew she stared, but she couldn’t seem to gather her wits. She took a deep breath, forcing her mouth to close. He was most likely a foreigner, though it was hard to distinguish from his tone where he was from.

  His clothing was nothing like she’d ever seen. The black breeches pulled tight to his legs and hips, showing every indention of muscle. He wore black leather boots that gleamed in the late afternoon light. They were high over his calves, lacing along the side so they fit snug. His black undertunic was of a lightweight material and tucked into the top of the breeches. Unlike the knee length overtunics of Bellemare knights, his was sleeveless and hung open in the front, falling to the ground like a cape. The black material was embroidered with silver, the front held together by two silver chains that draped along his chest. The upturned collar framed his face. As she stared, his head tilted to the side and his mouth curled in amusement. Her heart skipped erratically, thumping hard in her chest, reminding her to speak.

  “Forgive me,” Juliana managed, unsure how much time had gone by. “Did you speak?”

  He took a step toward her. Juliana couldn’t move. She couldn’t see anything but the man. It was as if the world faded away, taking all her cares with it.

  “I was merely taking you up on your offer, Juliana. You offered your soul, but I’ll only demand your eternal loyalty and obedience. The soul you can keep, I have no use for it.”

  “Do I know you?” she asked, wondering how he knew her name. “Have we been introduced?”

  “Tonight,” he said. “I’ll come for you tonight.”

  “For my wedding?” she asked. “It isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “You’re to be married?” His face turned instantly from amusement to darkness. His eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.

  “Aye, to Lord Eadward of Tyrshire.”

  “Not anymore,” he said, stepping closer. “You will wed no one, Juliana. I will see to that.”

  The words were low but unmistakable. Juliana wanted them to be true. Deep inside, she didn’t wish to marry Eadward. “I’m afraid, sir, you have no say in the matter. The bans have been posted. It’s done.”

  The man laughed softly. He moved closer to her still. His low voice was like a whisper on the wind. “The bans may have been posted, but the vows have yet to be said. It is hardly done. It will never be done.”

  Juliana shivered, unable to back away. Her gaze dipped to his mouth. They seemed so close. She’d been kissed once, by a knight, but he’d never made her heart beat so fast or her mouth go dry. Afterward, she’d been ashamed of kissing him because she knew her duty to her family name. Luckily, Hugh never found out, though she’d agonized for weeks. The man edged closer. Time stood still as he held her transfixed. Logic told her to move away. Her body wouldn’t listen. It wanted this moment, wanted the danger of it, the unknown.

  Licking her lips, Juliana let her lids fall heavy over her eyes until she was staring at him dreamily through the narrowed slits. One kiss wouldn’t hurt. She wasn’t married yet.

  Juliana waited for the man’s touch. She felt the heat of his body next to her. The scent of the man overwhelmed her, blocking out the fresh air, the food cooking in the kitchen. He smelled just as a man should—clean, strong, virile. Without thought, she parted her lips, offering them up to him.

  No harm ever came of a simple kiss, she assured herself. Just a kiss, a friendly, innocent kiss.

  Juliana watched him come for her, his lips moving closer. An eternity passed, eaten away by mere seconds. Dizzy with anticipation, she waited for his touch, his taste. She wanted to experience just once what it would be like to feel overwhelming attraction. Lord Eadward would be kind, but they would not have passion. He would never make her heart beat fast or her breath deepen.

  “Tonight,” she heard him whisper. Juliana felt the hiss of his breath against her lips with that one word. Her eyes closed completely. The wind stirred, blowing her hair. She lifted her hand, reaching for his chest, wanting to feel him, needing to know that he was real. Her hand fell through the air. She gasped in surprise. Opening her eyes, she saw that he was gone.

  “Sir?” she said, breathless. Her lips stung with the rejection. Loneliness coupled with desperation overwhelmed her.

  Juliana looked around the small yard before running to the narrow entryway that led to the main courtyard. It was filled with guests, but no dark stranger. Blood rushed in her ears, drowning out sound. Her lips stung. Her heart pounded so hard that she felt numb and elated at the same time. Moisture welled within her eyes. She couldn’t explain it, but she didn’t want the man to go. With that in mind, she turned back to the side courtyard and ran to the kitchen. The servants stopped to stare at her.

  “Tonight? Who’s coming tonight, my lady?” Margaret asked, stepping toward her. Juliana looked at the cook. The woman’s wiry grey hair sprouted out of her head in disarray, as she took up her stained apron and wiped her hands. “My lady, is all well? You’re as pale as the linen. What about tonight?”

  Juliana stared at the cook, unable to remember speaking the word “tonight” aloud. “Did someone come through here? A nobleman, strangely dressed?”

  The servants giggled.

  “My lady!” Margaret scolded playfully, shaking her head. “You come in here looking like death only to tease us. For shame! Now, off with you. I hear Sir Thomas is in residence. Go tell your stories to him. We have a castle to feed.”

  “But…” Juliana said, only to nod in agreement. The man wasn’t a figment of her imagination, was he? She couldn’t have dreamt up someone so real. She walked toward the great hall to find Thomas. Perhaps the wedding was getting to her after all, for now she was seeing things.

  * * *

  “Hugh, I don’t want to be married.” Juliana’s voice was a mere whisper, as she looked at her oldest brother’s back, waiting for him to turn to her. He was the tallest of all the siblings, with a noble bearing that had been bred into him since birth. She didn’t know where the words came from, or how they managed to escape her lips, but she didn’t want to take them back.

  “Juliana, we were just talking about you,” Hugh said when he turned. He didn’t smile, he never really smiled, though his voice and eyes were kind as he looked at her.

  Juliana hid her frown. Hugh hadn’t heard her. It was probably for the best. She glanced over to see Thomas studying her intently. Thomas had heard what she said, but luckily out of the group of men standing there he’d been the only one. She gave a slight shake of her head, keeping him quiet. Then, looking at Hugh, she said coyly, “I should hope everything you said of me was very wicked. There’s no fun to be had in the truth.”

  Hugh laughed, causing the group of men to join in. She recognized many of the nobles, even knew some of them by name. It was a good thing none of them had heard her disheartened comment. Her upcoming nuptials really must be affecting her judgment. First she saw people who weren’t there and then she talked without thought or care.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, my lady,” Sir Geoffrey said. He was one of Hugh’s loyal knights.

  “Why do you say that?” Juliana asked, looking around at the men’s smiling faces.

  “Some of the children,” Hugh explained. “Have been…”

  “Reprimanded,” Thomas supplied.

  “…ah, aye, reprimanded,” Hugh paused, clearing his throat, “for lifting noblewomen’s skirts in the market today. They said you told them to look for Nixies.”

  Juliana gave a guilty glance around the small group. She knew from past experience that Hugh was amused by it m
ore than anything. “What did you do to them?”

  “I imprisoned them, naturally. The ladies demanded they be punished,” Hugh said. Juliana blinked in surprise, worried. Leaning down to her, he whispered, “They feast in the dungeons as we speak, away from the real prisoners.”

  Juliana smiled. She should have known Hugh would never be so cruel. The children would think it a great game to be kept “prisoner” for the evening. Juliana nodded. “A suitable punishment for such a heinous offense. To imagine I would tell them to do such a thing. Honestly, I don’t know where they come up with such fanciful ideas.”

  Juliana tried to look innocent. The others merely laughed. They all knew the truth. Juliana’s affection for children and for stories was widely known throughout the countryside.

  “Speaking of the children, I’m afraid I might have been telling them too many tales. I promised to ask, though, even at the risk of sounding absurd.” Juliana paused, wondering if she was indeed insane. “Have any seen a stranger amongst us today? He sounds as if he’d be easily recognized. Long blond hair to his waist and all black clothing. A foreigner to be sure.” Juliana bit the inside of her lip, trying to keep her expression calm as she awaited their answer. Such a man as the one in the garden would be hard to miss. The men looked at each other, shaking their heads.

  “Nay, my lady,” Sir Ivon, a towheaded knight, said.

  “I haven’t heard of such a man,” added Sir Pieter, an English Baron.

  “Sounds as if we have an elf walking about the castle,” Hugh laughed.

  It was just as she suspected. She’d imagined the dark stranger. A hollow formed in her chest. She wanted so badly for him to be real. Thomas gave her a curious look, but she ignored him. Forcing an easy chuckle, she said, “Methought as much. The children must be trying to tease me for they swore he was out walking the courtyard.”

  The men laughed. Juliana bowed her head, curtseying, as she said, “If you would excuse me, my lords. Sirs.”