by Shay Savage
“Then I will see you in the morning,” Branford called over his shoulder. There was more of the sickeningly familiar laughter as Branford accepted the challenge.
My chest relaxed, and I could again draw breath. My husband’s gaze found mine, his expression still strange and indefinable though his underlying ire was still apparent. I could not quite tell if he was angry with me for asking him to help the slave girl or just resigned to the way it had to be done.
The way it had to be done was not at all what I had in mind. I would have thought Branford could simply purchase Janet from her hideous master or order him to sell her. It never occurred to me that he might compete for her in battle. My initial relief that Branford might be able to help the girl twisted into fear for his safety.
“Branford?” Parnell leaned toward us. “Are you competing with him again? The tournament is over.”
“Just a little side bet, Parnell,” Branford mumbled into his ale. “I shall require your assistance.”
“You have nothing to prove,” Parnell said.
Branford looked at me and downed the rest of his drink before speaking.
“Apparently I do.”
*****
In silence, I poured Branford his evening tea.
He had not spoken to me since his discussion and wager with Sir Leland at the inn. He had only looked at me a handful of times, and though I held his arm, he did not even speak when we walked back from the inn to our rooms in Sawyer Castle. I knew my request for him to help the slave girl in some way had led him to agree to this wager, and he was obviously angry to be put in such a position. I didn’t know what I should do.
He took the cup from my hands without a word, and the silence between us was starting to drive me mad. I would have preferred his outward hostility—his tendency to yell and throw things about—than this oppressive silence.
I wanted to speak to him about it. I wanted to understand if his obvious displeasure was directed toward me for my request, at Sir Leland for his actions, or at the situation in general, but I didn’t know how to approach him. As I pondered, I became more certain he was angry with me, and my insides were tight and painful at the thought.
Remembering how he had approached me during those times he had apologized for his own behavior, I dropped down beside him and rose up on my knees. I placed my hands on the top of one of his thighs and looked up into his face. He sat back a bit, and his eyes narrowed in confusion.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I am sorry I angered you,” I said quietly as I bent my head forward. “I did not know he would suggest a contest.”
Unable to continue meeting his gaze, I lowered my head. I heard him breathe, long and slow, and felt his breath against the top of my head. Branford touched the end of my chin with his fingertip, and he tilted my head back up.
“I am not angry with you,” Branford said. Though his words should have been comforting, I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes.
“But…you have not spoken to me since we left the inn,” I said quietly. Branford offered me a slight smile, which did not touch his eyes.
“My mind has been preoccupied, I will admit, but it is not preoccupied with anger toward you.” Branford ran his hands through his hair and let out another deep sigh. “It is just that I…I…I truly despise Sir Leland!”
I gripped his thighs as his voice rose in pitch and volume.
“Lowering myself to a contest with an individual of his sort…” He trailed off, his sentence and thought left incomplete.
“I am sorry,” I repeated. Branford ran his hand over my cheek and shook his head at me again.
“You have no need to apologize, Alexandra,” he said. “I should apologize for giving you that impression. Come now. The hour is quite late.”
He stood and took both of my hands in his as he pulled me to my feet and led me to the bed. We quickly changed into our nightclothes, and Branford pulled back the quilt and crawled underneath, patting the bed beside him. He lay back against the pillows, and I moved over closer to him. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and hugged me to his chest.
“I did not realize you would fight with him,” I said quietly. “It was not my intent to have you in danger.”
“I am not in danger,” Branford said with a snort. I dropped my head to his shoulder and felt his hand run up my back. His tone softened somewhat. “Truly, my wife. I shall be fine.”
“But this is not the same as other tournament games, is it?”
“Not exactly,” Branford said. “There will be no judges.”
“Which means what?”
“There will be no one there to determine if the rules have been met.”
His simple answer was enough to set me further on edge. Obviously he meant there would be no rules followed, and I knew the level of danger would be greater for him. I did not expect Sir Leland to follow rules if the possibility of ignoring them were an option.
“You did not have to agree to such a thing,” I whispered into the darkness. “I did not mean to ask for you to jeopardize yourself in helping Janet.”
“You did not ask for that,” Branford corrected me. “You asked me if there was any way I could help, and I agreed to try to find a way. The way I chose to help was my decision, not yours.”
“You could be hurt,” I whispered again. I felt Branford’s hand on my cheek and looked up at him.
“I will be fine,” he said, insisting. “I have fought with Sir Leland before and been victorious.”
“But the joust…”
“The joust was a lucky happenstance for him.” Branford growled. “It is not the same as the sword at all.”
This I did realize, for the likelihood of Branford being injured in a sword fight seemed much greater to me. Again, words intended to reassure me had the opposite effect. I wrapped my arm around his middle and pulled myself closer to him.
“Sleep now, Alexandra.” Branford kissed the top of my head. “We must rise early tomorrow, and I need to locate someone to be with you during the contest.”
“I will not be with you?”
“I know how you feel about it. There is no reason for you to have to watch and be uncomfortable.”
I sat up slightly and looked down at him.
“I want to be there,” I said. “If I were not, I would only be worrying about you.”
“You are not required,” Branford repeated. “I do not wish you to be frightened.”
I shook my head emphatically as a new panic arose within me. Seeing him fighting would be horrible, but being elsewhere while he fought because of my own request was simply unthinkable.
“I asked for this,” I finally said. “I will be there with you to see it to its end.”
Branford’s gaze stayed locked with mine until I felt myself begin to squirm under his intense stare. I was sure he was not going to permit me to be there, and I was not planning on backing down from my stance. His eventual answer surprised me.
“If that is your wish,” Branford said as he acquiesced. “You shall be there to witness as well.”
“Who else will watch?” I asked.
“Parnell and Michael will be there.” His voice darkened when he mentioned the young page. “You are not to speak to him. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Branford.” He was being ridiculous, but I was not about to argue with him over it.
“Sir Rylan will also be there to act as middleman.”
“What does that mean?”
“He will hold Vanquish and the slave during the contest so no one can back out of the wager when he has lost. There may be the odd spectator, but those are all the names of consequence.”
Branford kissed the top of my head and gripped me tighter for a moment.
“You need to sleep now,” he said. “It is late. You have had a very distressing day, and we will need to rise shortly after daybreak.”
I nodded and rested my head on the pillow beside him as he shifted and rolled over to face m
e. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close before closing his eyes. As Branford fell into slumber, I realized this was the first time since the night we consummated our marriage that he did not take me before sleep. As I lay my head against his chest, I felt strangely empty, and not just in the literal sense. It was some time before my mind allowed sleep to come to me, and then my sleep was far from restful. I kept waking, wondering and worrying about Branford’s fight in the morning and feeling horribly guilty about forcing him into such a situation. I remembered Parnell telling him he had nothing to prove and Branford’s look as he answered his cousin. He felt he had something to prove to me as if I wanted him to put himself in danger.
I did not. I never wanted him to consider engaging in a contest to help Janet. I only wanted to get her away from the horrible man who treated her so abusively. I looked up into Branford’s sleeping face, so quiet and peaceful. He hardly moved when he slept except to tighten his grip around me or to roll slowly from his back to his side. Even when I reached up to touch him, as I did now, he never stirred. I stroked my fingers over his forehead and jaw, smiling at his beauty.
Remembering we had not taken pleasure with each other the night before, I was also reminded of Branford’s words regarding what he would do if I had no nightdresses. I bit my lip softly as an idea came to me, and I slowly pulled away from my sleeping husband. His arm dropped to the bed as his face tightened in sleep. He did not stir any further, so I carefully stood, removed my nightdress entirely, and then lay down beside him again.
I had never felt so wanton as I brushed my hand over the light hair on his stomach, trailing my fingers lower until they reached the top of his sleep trousers. I knew something was a little different, for usually when I reached for him, I could feel the end of his flesh at the top of his trousers, yet it was not there. I glanced toward his face, but he remained asleep, so I slipped my fingers underneath the cloth and reached farther down.
When I discovered his male flesh with my hand, I was surprised at how soft and pliable it was and how easily my fingers could reach around it. When he still did not stir, I ran my fingers from the tip down to the base, back again, and then wrapped them all the way around.
Though the rest of my husband’s body did not awaken, this part of him did. I could feel it twitch and grow in my palm as I stroked him the way he had showed me in the meadow. Soon, I could no longer reach all the way around with my fingers as his flesh grew and pulsed in my hand.
With a low moan, Branford’s hips bucked up against me, and his arm grasped at my shoulders.
“Alexandra!” he exclaimed. “Wha-what are you…oh…God…”
I could not contain my smile as I heard his low moan and felt his fingers grip tightly onto my skin on the top part of my arm. His other hand reached for mine, holding my fingers around his and guiding my strokes. His breathing turned quickly to panting, and he murmured my name over and over again. After only a minute or so, he pulled my hand from him and gripped both of my arms as he dragged my body up his. He brought my mouth to his, and I felt his tongue reached out to me. I returned the gesture, running my tongue over his as he held my bare body against the warmth of his chest.
Quite awake now, Branford wrapped his arms around me and rolled until he was on top of me, pushing my legs apart quickly. He slid into me steadily with another loud groan and began his intoxicating rhythm inside of my body.
He found my breasts with his hands and held them up to his lips. His tongue caressed my nipples, and as he took the first in his mouth and sucked hard, I lifted my body up to his. I moaned softly and wrapped my fingers through his hair to hold him against me. He moved from one breast to the other, his licks and kisses moving in time with his gentle strokes.
I was completely captivated by him—his touch, the sight of his eyes, the smell of his skin as he labored to bring us both such pleasure. I felt my mouth turn up in a smile when I thought of how frightened I had been in my innocence and compared it to how I felt now, just a few short days later. I marveled in the feeling of his soft hair around my fingertips as he pulled away from my breasts and held himself above me and pushed slowly inside of me, holding himself up by his arms.
I traced the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders before trailing my fingertips over his chest. I felt his skin quiver slightly as I brushed over his nipples, and I wondered how it felt to him when I touched them. Feeling strangely bold for so early in the morning, I lifted myself off the bed just enough to place a kiss over one of them.
“Alexandra!” Branford sucked in a sharp breath, and I looked up to find his darkened stare. As I kept my gaze on his to further watch his expression, I reached out with my tongue and ran it over the small, flat nub. He closed his eyes and tightened his fingers against my sides. Branford moaned out loud as his hand reached for my hair and entwined the strands in his fingers. I kissed his nipple again and smiled to myself before wrapping both of my arms around his shoulders as he pressed his hips against mine, continuing his steady rhythm. Our lips met, and the taste of his tongue filled my mouth. He slid his hand between us, finding the spot above where we were joined and attending to it until I screamed out for him.
As my body dropped against the mattress, I felt his gentle but urgent touch all over my skin—from my breasts, to my shoulders and arms, back down to my sides, and over my thighs. His hand slipped around my hip and gripped my behind, pulling my hips to his as he brought forth his pleasure with a series of quick thrusts into my body. I felt his seed pour into me as he groaned loudly.
“Oh…Alexandra…my wife…” His head dropped to my shoulder, where he licked and sucked at my skin. It made me smile, for it was something he had done almost every time he had taken me. I had come to anticipate the feeling of his lips and tongue on my neck and the rough scratch of his jaw as it brushed across my skin.
Branford rose up on his elbows and he held my face in his hands, kissing my lips, my chin, and my jaw up to my ear. He moved down to suck at the skin of my neck again before rising up and looking into my face. His full smile bore down on me, and I felt heat rise to my face.
“And what reason accounts for this early display?” he asked quietly, causing my blush to deepen. He stroked my cheekbone with his thumb and tilted his head to one side, raising his eyebrows as he awaited my answer.
“We did not…you did not…last night…” My words were a garbled mess, and Branford’s smile widened.
“It was late, and we both needed our sleep.” He traced from my temple to my ear, pushing my hair away from my neck. “Did I disappoint you by not taking you in the evening?”
“No, you did not disappoint,” I answered, “but I did miss it.”
He stilled and looked down on me a moment before rolling to his side. I rolled with him, and he stroked the side of my face.
“I would not have expected such brazenness from you, Alexandra.” His eyes smiled at me. “It was quite enjoyable.”
I blushed again, naturally, and tucked my head against his shoulder so he would not see my embarrassment.
“I was not sure if I should…if I should do such a thing,” I told him. “I was not sure if you would approve.”
“I most certainly approve, my beautiful wife.” He cupped the side of my face and held me against his skin as he kissed the top of my head. “I approve most wholeheartedly. Anytime you wish.”
Again I was unable to help but smile as he held me close to him and continued to place soft kisses against my forehead. I turned my head to kiss his jaw, not at all minding the feeling of his rough cheek on my sensitive lips. The sun was beginning to come through the window crack, and I was disappointed to realize there would not be enough time to shave him.
Then I remembered why.
“What is wrong?” Branford asked, sensing my distress.
“I am afraid you will be hurt,” I said. Branford huffed through his nose.
“I shall be fine.”
“But you could be injured. With no judge, you cou
ld even be…be…”
I could not bring myself to say the word.
“You do not have to worry about such things,” Branford told me. “If something were to happen to me, you would not lose your station. You would still be treated as my wife. You would not ever have to leave the castle. You would still sleep in the same bed, in the same rooms.”
I looked up at him, my eyes wide with shock. Is this what he thought my concern to be?
“But you would not be there,” I whispered to him as tears filled my eyes “I cannot imagine trying to sleep in that bed without you there with me.”
As soon as I said it, I realized how true it really was. Though I had spent most of my life sleeping in a communal room with many other servants, the idea of returning to that life was not abhorrent to me. I might have even preferred it. But to sleep in our marital bed without my husband there by my side?
Branford’s thumb brushed over a tear as it trailed down my cheek.
“Please, Alexandra,” he said softly, “do not cry. Tonight you and I will be back in our rooms, together, and I will stay by your side throughout the night, holding you close to me and keeping you safe.”
I nodded and sniffed.
“You do not have to…have to prove anything to me!” Tears burst forth, and I sobbed against his chest as he held me tightly. He ran his hand over my hair—stroking with his long fingers from the top of my head down to my waist. His soft kisses against my cheek eventually calmed me, and when my tears stopped, he turned me to look at him. After taking a long breath, I repeated my sentiment. “You do not have anything to prove.”
“Yes, Alexandra, I do.” Branford took my face in his hands and peered at me intently. “I have to prove to you that I am worthy of a woman with such a kind heart that she would risk anything to help a girl she does not know just because she knows it is the right thing to do. If I can be worthy of that woman—if I can be worthy of you—then perhaps someday I can be worthy of the crown.”
*****
Ida and I stood off to the side as Parnell assisted Branford with the light chain mail he was going to wear for the fight. He told me it allowed more maneuverability with close combat, but that information did not allow my worry to dissipate. He looked so much more vulnerable than he did in the plate armor he wore for jousting. There was nothing but leather protecting most of his body, and I was quite sure a sword could cut right through it.
