“Your tonic is ready, Your Highness. Allow me to perform this small service for you, as I was able to provide so little assistance in response to your questions.” She reached for a cup from a shelf near the hearth and poured a healthy portion of the mixture from the kettle into it.
Michel accepted the cup from her outstretched hand with ill-disguised hesitancy, bringing an amused smile to the lips of his hostess. “Drink it, my king, and be free of the pain that still troubles you. Calei needs you fit and strong and unburdened by the past.”
Michel thought her benediction a rather unusual one, and fully aware the old witch could very well mean to poison him with her concoction, he lifted the cup, tipped it in her direction in a not unkind salute, and then swallowed its contents all the while observing her watchful, probing glance as he did so. He tried to hide his grimace at its less than pleasant after-taste.
“The bitterness of the brew is necessary to seek out and remove the lingering darkness still cleaving to your injury. The wound will heal quickly now and trouble you no more.”
Michel was not certain he believed his companion’s promise, but still he rose and bowed his respectful appreciation for her care of him. “Thank you. You have been a most gracious hostess. I will leave you now to return to your own affairs, but I will remember your advice and heed it. I hope if any additional questions come to mind I may return here and seek out the benefit of your wisdom.”
His hostess smiled benignly upon him. “You have been blessed with a golden tongue and a charming manner. It is no wonder a young and innocent maid like Lady Elena has fallen victim to it. You will give her my fond regards, I trust? And my condolences on the loss of her uncle?”
Michel nodded, thinking how the older woman had very shrewdly snuck in her two pence about his responsibilities to his young ward.
Chapter Nineteen
Amele waited for his return on the street near the entrance to the cottage and fell into step beside him as they made their way back to the keep. “Did you learn anything useful?”
“Perhaps. I’m not entirely certain,” Michel replied honestly, then asked, “Did my grandmother ever speak to you of my grandfather?”
“In regards to the curse?”
“Not necessarily. Did she ever speak to you about how they met?”
“How they met?” Amele parroted.
“Yes. Did you never wonder after my grandfather was widowed, and his sons from his first wife were killed, why he travelled to a distant land and returned with a bride young enough to be his daughter rather than choosing a second wife from among the available maidens here in Calei?”
Amele took a moment to consider the question. “No, frankly I did not. I was a young man at the time, a raw recruit to the guard. I do not believe it would have occurred to me to question my king’s decisions, let alone speculate as to his reasons for choosing his new bride.”
“I realize that, but over the years you spent together in my grandmother’s company, the topic never came up?”
“No.” At Michel’s surprised expression in response to his honesty, Amele added with mystified look of his own, “It surprises you that your grandmother never discussed her marriage to your grandfather with me?”
At Michel’s resigned nod, acknowledging his point, Amele added curiously, “Why are you all of a sudden interested in your grandparent’s marriage?”
“Rowena’s grandmother raised the question.”
Amele seemed to consider the matter and then speculated, “I imagine King Nathaniel felt it was his responsibility to remarry and sire an heir to the throne. As to his reasons for choosing his bride from a distant land, it may very well be that the noble families of Calei were somewhat reluctant to subject a daughter of theirs to the vagaries of the curse that the majority of its citizens believed were responsible for the deaths of King Nathaniel’s sons and very possibly, his first wife.”
“The citizens attributed the death of my grandfather’s first wife to the curse?”
“I was a young man at the time, but I remember the heavy pall that hung over the city when the queen died so soon after the loss of their sons.” Amele added curiously, “Do you believe your grandfather’s reasons for marrying your grandmother had something to do with the curse?’
“I am no longer certain what I believe. Rowena’s grandmother was very mysterious about the whole thing.”
“You’ve made me curious as well, but surely if your grandmother was aware of anything that would help you solve this mystery she would have told you.”
“What if she was unaware of my grandfather’s reasons for pursuing her? She was little more than a child when they were wed was she not?”
“Yes, I think perhaps you are right. She didn’t know, and perhaps never found out, but even if that was your grandfather’s motivation for marrying your grandmother, he was apparently mistaken in his presumption.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He was murdered in his sleep.”
Michel nodded, then protested, “But his child survived, as did her children.”
“But they were forced to flee Calei.”
“True.”
The two men settled into a considering silence when they were joined by the members of Michel’s personal guard to provide the king with an escort back to the keep. Michel noticed young Colin made up one of their number and he hid his smile at the boy’s awed expression when he nodded in his direction.
They proceeded silently through the relatively quiet early evening streets of the city. Michel’s thoughts turned away from his focus on the curse besetting him and to another pressing matter, his dilemma over what to do about Elena. He’d yet to gain a private moment with her to continue the conversation she ended so abruptly the evening of the reception. He thought his failure to do so could be attributed to his suspicion that Elena was avoiding him, as much as it was his demanding schedule as king.
He planned to speak with her this evening before she retired to her rooms. Unfortunately he still had no idea what he was going to say to her. There was no denying the fact that her uncle was wishful of a marriage between them. Despite her warm feelings for him, he imagined being wed solely to protect her reputation and to satisfy her uncle’s request of his successor was not likely to fulfill the romantic dreams of marriage a young maid like Elena no doubt cherished in her tender heart.
He was not certain how to spare her gentle feelings without lying outright as to the depth of his own for her. He suspected that even if he were able to overcome his reluctance to enter into such a sacred commitment with that lie between them, Elena would, despite her innocence, see through his attempt to deceive her. It would be easier on both of them if the circumstances forcing his hand to settle things sooner rather than later between them allowed for more time for Elena to grow up a little. He thought he would find it easier to broach the coming discussion with her if her tender heart did not prevent him from doing so with a frankness of manner she would no doubt be offended by.
Regardless of the constraints of their circumstances, he admitted that while he was not in love with her, he did not like this new distance between them, nor was he comfortable at the recollection of her devastated expression the other night when she asked him if her uncle had attempted to arrange a marriage between them. There could be no question that it was time for them to come to an understanding about their futures. The entire city was speculating as to his intentions in regards to his ward. It wasn’t fair to leave Elena to bear the brunt of the gossip.
As they drew nearer to the keep, Michel realized with some annoyance that his ward had anticipated he would attempt to corner her this evening for their long delayed discussion, and she had managed to head off his efforts to do so before he could put his plan into action. From where he approached the well-lit entrance to the castle, he could see Elena’s slender figure outlined in the window of her room he suspected she sought to escape his reach. He sensed she remained unaware of his perusal of her from
below because she stood with her arms wrapped around her middle staring off into the horizon. Her expression was pensive, as if she was contemplating weighty matters too burdensome for a maid of her young years to have to bear.
Coming to a sudden decision, he turned to the men that followed in his wake and summoned one to his side, “Colin?”
Apparently astonished at being addressed directly by his king, the young man stuttered over his reply, “Yes, Your Highness?”
“Fetch me a rope,” Michel commanded.
“A rope, Your Highness?” Michel watched the young soldier’s eyes dart to his companions and then back again.
“Yes, a rope. Make certain it is strong enough to bear my weight, and long enough to reach yonder window from the ground.” Michel enlarged on his order, then pointed in the direction of the keep where Elena still stood in her window, unaware her solitary sanctuary was about to be violated by her guardian and king.
Colin’s line of vision followed Michel’s outstretched arm. A wide grin split his lips at seeing the object of Michel’s attention. “Yes, Your Highness. Right away, sire.”
Colin took off at a run toward one of the sheds that housed the keep’s supplies. Michel met the quickly concealed grins of the remaining members of his escort and then turned to meet Amele’s speculative expression.
“Have you any advice to offer your king, my friend?”
Amele shook his head and smiling, replied, “You are asking the wrong man, my king. I have remained a bachelor all of my years in your family’s service. Perhaps you should direct your query in young Joseph’s direction. I understand he has quite a reputation with the ladies.”
“Is that so?” Michel turned his focus towards the young soldier Amele jokingly indicated with a nod of his head.
His companions barely bothered to suppress their amusement at their companion’s discomfort. The young soldier with the now obviously reddened face was saved from further embarrassment by Colin’s hurried return, his breathing labored by his quick pace and the heavy rope he carried in his arms.
“Here you are Your Highness. I wasn’t certain if you also wished me to obtain a grappling hook so I retrieved one and attached it to the end of the rope, just in case.
“Good man, you have anticipated everything. If you will excuse me, I have a young maiden to woo.”
He spun around to grin at the sound of the male chuckles directed at his retreating back and with a mock salute turned back and made his way purposefully towards the window where his future bride still stood staring out into the night.
“Elena,” he called up to her from where he stopped beneath her window.
“Michel, is that you?” She leaned out of the window and over the ledge to stare down at the shadows from where his voice hailed her.
“Yes, it’s me. Step away from the window,” he commanded and began winding the rope in preparation for throwing it the distance separating them.
“What? Michel what you doing?” She demanded, then swiftly recalling who she was addressing, added in embarrassed voice, “Forgive me, Your Highness.”
“Elena, step away from the window.” He ignored her apology for her familiarity in addressing him by his given name, and repeated his earlier demand.
He grinned at her mystified and disgruntled expression before she disappeared from his line of sight as she retreated from the window, then swung the rope with the iron hook on one end in a wide arc. It landed with a satisfying clank, and then it slid scraping along the wall until it found purchase in the iron supports near the window ledge. Michel tested his weight on the dangling rope and began scaling the keep’s thick wall even as Elena reappeared in the window and looked down.
Their eyes met across the narrowing distance between them, his smiling, hers regarding him with wide-eyed astonishment. Loud male voices from the soldiers manning the walls and from the crowd gathering near the entrance to the keep could be heard cheering their new king on his romantic ascent to his lady’s chambers.
“Michel, what in the world do you think you are about?” Elena’s hushed question was only loud enough to reach his ears, as Michel reached where she stood in the opening, swung one leg over the ledge and climbed into the room to the echo of even louder cheers from their avidly interested audience.
Michel waved in the direction of his faithful soldiers and then gained Elena’s limp hand and led her away from the window. He definitely did not need an audience for this next part.
Elena was too stunned to resist his gentle tug on her hand and she followed him unresisting back into the confines of her bedroom. The sight of the bed, too close for his suspect control around his young ward, had Michel changing directions to the bench set in front of the hearth on the other side of the room.
“Michel…Your Highness…” she tried again before words appeared to fail her.
“We’re alone now, so I believe we agreed it would be Michel,” he inserted gently, refusing to release her small hand she was trying unsuccessfully to free from his grasp.
“You can’t be here,” she protested stunned, “People will think…”
Michel debated how to respond to her … and immediately decided it would be best not to leave her any choice in the matter of how their relationship was going to proceed from this moment on. “Elena, you’re going to marry me.”
Tears immediately filled her eyes and her attempt to free her hand from his grip became laced with desperation. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head in denial.
“Yes,” he countered, his certainty increasing the more she attempted to deny him.
“No, Michel, you can’t. You do not wish to marry me. You feel you have no choice, because of my Uncle Barnabas’ request of you.”
Michel captured her other hand and using his additional leverage forced her to face him. “It is true your uncle asked me to marry you.” Elena dipped her head in resigned defeat before he added seriously, “But I denied his request.”
“You denied his request?” Elena parroted, her head lifting swiftly so her eyes could probe his for the truth. “I don’t understand.”
“It is very simple, Elena. I denied your uncle’s request to marry you. I did, however, agree to do all in my power to protect you from his enemies and to act as your guardian upon his death.”
She shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand. If you denied my uncle’s request, then why do you think to marry me?”
His lips curved in a gentle smile as he spelled out how things were going to be between them in the future. “I am the king. I do not think to marry you. I will marry you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Taking advantage of her obvious confusion, Michel pulled on the hands he held in his and tumbled her into his arms. He let go of her hands and framed her lovely face between his own. “I’ve missed you, Elena,” he confessed.
Tears glimmered in her soft eyes, but she didn’t draw back when he bent and kissed her. She stopped struggling beneath him and he let his arms slide around her softness when she burrowed closer into his embrace. She pulled away long enough to lift her head and search his eyes for some sign of deceit on his part. “You truly denied my uncle’s request to marry me?”
“Yes, love. I was not willing to make such a serious commitment despite your uncle’s assurances that doing so would help me achieve my goal of becoming king.” At her puzzled look, he added, “Because the citizens of Calei all adore you.”
Her cheeks colored up in a full blush. “That’s ridiculous! Uncle Barnabas could not possibly have thought to sway you with such a foolish argument,” she protested, then sighing, cuddled back close in his arms, her hands trapped against his chest. “I’ve missed you too,” she added in a soft whisper, her face heating up at her honest confession.
At the feel of her softness close against his chest, he heaved a resigned sigh and with his hands on her shoulders, he reluctantly set her away from him. “Soon, Elena. You are going to have to marry me soon. I’m tired of f
ighting both of us and being forced to always play the part of a gentleman around you…a very frustrated gentleman, I might add.”
She colored prettily at his bold pronouncement, then Michel brushed his lips across hers, and very aware of their interested audience waiting to see if he would reappear in the window, he stood and said, “I must leave you now, as much as doing so will only lead to another painful, sleepless night. I’ve waited this long to claim my bride, I have no intention of allowing my men to speculate as to whether or not my discipline failed me tonight.”
“They already think that,” Elena replied, not completely swallowing the taste of bitterness the thought left in her mouth. If everyone already believed they were lovers there was really no need for Michel to continue to act so honorably towards her.
“No, love, they do not. Those whose opinions matter know that I would not act so dishonorably towards you and betray the trust Barnabas placed in me when he appointed me your guardian. But before I leave, I want to be certain there are no further misunderstandings between us. I will give you a fortnight to make whatever arrangements you deem necessary before you become my wife. Bishop Maren will marry us on the fourteenth eve from tonight. Do we understand each other?”
At Elena’s wide-eyed nod, Michel released his hold on her shoulders and then crossed the room in the direction of the window. When he threw one leg over the ledge and reached for the rope he used to scale the wall, Elena gasped and hurried after him.
“What you are doing? Wouldn’t it be safer for you to leave by the door?”
He grinned back up at her from where he was already descending along the rope to the echo of the loud cheers of the even larger crowd gathered in the courtyard staring up at his lady’s window. “Safer, but not nearly as much fun,” he replied with a grin. Then he blew his future bride a kiss in a dramatic fashion to the cheers of his men and reaching the end of his rope, jumped the remaining few feet to the ground where Amele and his escort for the evening awaited him.
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