“Sweet dreams, my love,” Matthew whispered.
Cassandra grasped his hand. “I love you.”
“I love you also.”
Matthew pulled away and mounted his horse. She gazed at him once more before he dug his heels into the flanks of his horse and dashed off around the corner of the palace wall.
Hours had passed by into the evening as she sat there motionlessly waiting, but Matthew never returned. Cassandra curled up in the window seat in the library, watching, longing to see her husband ride around the corner. Then, she glanced to the entryway as she heard someone come through the open door and then turned her attention back to the window.
Cook set the tray down on one of the tables and swept to Cassandra's side, moving a chair beside her. “Your majesty, you have not eaten yet today.”
“I am not hungry,” Cassandra replied. She smiled weakly at the older woman. “And please, call me Cassa. I prefer it.”
Cook beamed at her, brushing Cassandra's long, brown, unbound hair from her face. “You must think of the baby.”
“All I can think about is his father. And why he left so suddenly after we were married.”
“What I know is,” Cook began, taking Cassandra's hand in her two weathered ones, “That whatever he seeks he found in preparation for the wedding. I know his heart well enough to tell you that he would not have left you for a frivolous reason.”
“How?” Cassandra whispered.
“By the gleam in his eyes and the joy in his voice. I have seen that look in a man before.”
Cassandra squeezed her fingers. “Were you in love?”
Cook smiled wistfully. “Oh, yes. When I was young. He was a tall, handsome soldier for King Alexander's army. Alexander was Matthew's grandfather, you know. My soldier had soft green eyes, wavy brown hair.” She sighed. “We married and lived in Sebrone. Three months after our wedding, my soldier was killed in a skirmish with Porvo over the cedar forests. I had no future, so I took employment with King Alexander and became his cook.”
Cassandra gently touched her face. “I am sorry.”
“I miss him greatly, but my life has been full. I have had a wonderful position here, and I have had a chance to help raise three beautiful children—two sons and a daughter.” Cassandra looked down as she blushed. Cook rose and crossed to the table, picking up a piece of bread and pouring a goblet of cider. She took them to the queen. “I am eagerly looking forward to holding this next babe in my arms. So eat, please.”
Cassandra took the nourishment from her. “What is your name? We just call you Cook.”
“Madeline. Now, please, eat.”
Cassandra smiled as she nibbled on the bread. She leaned her head on Cook's shoulder as they gazed out the window together.
* * * *
Matthew shoved open the entrance door and stormed through the foyer. Fury boiled his blood. He had suffered betrayal before. He had grown accustomed to it. But betraying Cassandra—that is something I will not tolerate.
He didn’t stop until he slammed open the throne room door He found Joseph sitting silently on the large wooden throne, musing over scroll after scroll of troop movements as he stroked the gray stubble of his beard. Plans for the coronation lay scattered all over the floor, obviously of no interest to him. He jerked his head up suddenly, caught sight of Matthew, and then stood up as straight as he could force his spine.
“Matthew,” he greeted.
The young man glared at him in fury. Just returned from Gavoy, there was sweat on his brow and he still wore his riding cloak.
Joseph cleared his throat. “This coronation, Matthew. Do you really think it is wise to crown her…?”
“Shut up!” Matthew commanded angrily. “I am discussing nothing with you until Bartholomew arrives.” He looked to the courtiers. “Did you summon him?”
“Yes. He is coming up the path,” one of them offered.
“Good. Now bring me something to drink.” Matthew took Joseph's place on the throne, dropping heavily into the seat with a sigh. He sipped from the goblet of brandy offered to him, thanking the courtier softly. He kept a hard, hateful glare on Joseph.
Joseph shifted uneasily. He cleared his throat again. “Have you seen Cassandra? Should I summon her?”
“No,” Matthew growled. “I want this meeting without her. I do not want her to know the atrocities acted out against her.”
Joseph sighed as Otto brushed into the room. “Matthew, you are back. I have Gorgon's troop’s movements.”
“How much movement is there?” the king asked warily.
“Nothing I and a small detachment of troops cannot handle.”
“Good.” Matthew smiled. “I would like to spend some time at home, practicing my new role as husband.”
“I can understand,” Otto laughed.
A courtier opened the door. “Bartholomew, the scribe, your majesty.”
Matthew stood to greet the monk. “Welcome, Bartholomew. How are you? I hope you have been well?” He motioned for the rotund, middle-aged man to sit near the throne.
“Yes, your majesty,” Bartholomew replied as he gingerly settled on the seat and set the ragged burlap bag he carried on the floor beside him.
“Good. I trust you brought the letter?”
“Yes, your majesty.”
“What is this about?” Joseph demanded.
Matthew spun at him as he pulled a weathered scroll from within his jacket. “When I went to look for the gold band I gave to Cassa on our wedding day, I found this letter. I called for Bartholomew and went to speak personally to King Fortunado to come to the bottom of my father's plan.” He looked at Bartholomew and gently continued, “Please read the letter you brought.”
Bartholomew produced a second aged scroll and unrolled it carefully. He cleared his throat and began to read. “Dear Bartholomew, I hope this letter finds you well. I received your letter concerning the bloodlines of Samuel, the farmer of Nokkel, and his wife, Catherine. I am disappointed there were no traces of royalty found, but I refuse to give up hope.
“This is what I want you to do. Please go to Gavoy and speak to King Fortunado and explain our situation. He is a dear friend of mine and will come up with a plot to help. But please do this with haste. Matthew and Cassandra will be seventeen in a month, and I want to present her to him shortly thereafter.
“I have chosen Cassandra to be Matthew's bride. I will marry him to no other. I promised to care for her, and I will. So please hurry. I will be waiting for your answer. Yours, King Thomas.”
Matthew waved the parchment he held towards Joseph. “This letter I found in my father's trunk is from Bartholomew. It arrived two days after my father's death. It states that Fortunado devised a plan to reveal that his father was very taken with Samuel's mother when she and Samuel's father were living in Gavoy. The king took her to his bed. Samuel's father rescued her but not before she was with child.
“Fortunado was ready to proceed with the deception and accept Samuel the farmer as his half-brother, and therefore Cassa as his niece and a princess of Gavoy, worthy of marriage to a prince.” He paused, glaring at the prime minister. “But you knew this, did you not?”
“How so?” Joseph challenged.
“When I inspected the letter closer, I noticed it bore the royal seal of Savon. If this letter came from Bartholomew, it would have borne his seal or no seal at all. As far as who could have placed the royal stamp on it, and therefore read it as well…My father was dead, and I was devastated. That only left you to read and reseal it.”
Joseph returned his stare silently. Matthew continued, “My father chose my bride. His own hand wrote it. I almost wish I did not know why you hid this and went against his wishes, but I do know why.”
“I did what I felt was best for the kingdom,” Joseph answered.
“Did you think my father and I were such lovesick fools to disregard what was best for the kingdom? She is a heroine to her people. She saved them from starvation!” Matthew shook hi
s head. “Had you looked into this further, and done what my father commanded, she would not have suffered—not by Gorgon's hand, not by Victor's hand, and certainly not by my hand.”
“Your hand, my lord?” Bartholomew questioned.
“Yes, my hand. She was prepared to carry our child silently without ever revealing the father, not until his birth. Can you imagine the sneers she would have received when she had to travel to the village near Malicar's castle, a pregnant woman without a man to call her own?
“All she has ever wanted is a child, and she was prepared at his birth to send him to me, quietly separating herself from him forever. I went to her and forced her to return with me. I subjected her to new humiliation without so much as a thought.”
Matthew sighed before continuing, “Unlike what you may believe, Joseph, she did not force herself on me. She came to me as a friend to assure my mind and heal my heart. I took her to my bed. I bedded her without ever considering the consequences.”
He looked up at the three men in the room, watching their stunned silence at his confessions. “The only man other than her grandfather who loved her unselfishly, loved her for the goodness in her heart, was my father. That is the kind of man she deserves, one who is brave and loving and unselfish like him. Not a terrified child, afraid of his own shadow like me.”
“Matthew,” Otto breathed in objection.
“Bartholomew, do you have parchment?” Matthew interrupted.
“Yes, your majesty,” the monk answered.
“Then I have a new decree. Whenever you are ready.”
Bartholomew stood, taking his bag, and crossed to a small table. He pulled a roll of blank paper from within the folds of rough burlap. He reached in again to retrieve a long, slender quill pen and tiny bottle of ink. Uncorking the bottle and dipping the tip of the pen in the ink, he posed it over the paper. “I am ready, your majesty.”
“Then this is it. Anyone who treats Cassandra, my wife, with less honor and respect due the Queen of Savon will find their punishment at my hand.”
“You mean the soldiers—” Otto began.
“No, mine.” Matthew glared at Joseph. “I am her husband. I will protect her.”
“So what punishment do you have for me?” Joseph asked coolly.
“For disobeying my father's command and proceeding with your own wishes? Your behavior is nearly as traitorous as Gorgon's. I have devised a punishment suited to your crime.”
Matthew looked around at the others then back to Joseph, a sudden smile blooming on his face. “The coronation will be at sunset in three days. That gives time for her gown to be finished and the lords and ladies to arrive. As my father and I have planned, she will be queen. Now, I am going to go find her and bury myself in her arms. I have missed her so much, and I feel the need to explain what has happened.”
“Matthew,” Otto urged softly. The young king looked to him then turned his attention in the direction of Otto’s nod. Matthew exhaled as he caught sight of the woman he had never noticed in the room.
Cassandra gazed at him through free flowing tears as she clung to the partially opened door. The expression on her face silently revealed to Matthew that she had been there from the beginning of his revelation. She let go her hold on the door then padded in slipper-clad feet into his arms. She wrapped her own tight around his shoulders.
“You are home,” Cassandra whispered though her sobs. “I have missed you, my husband.”
Matthew held Cassandra close to him, everything that he wanted to say lodged in his throat and leaving him mute. He was home. She was his wife. For the moment, everything was all right. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ve missed you too, sweet wife. Let’s find someplace to be alone. Shall we take a walk?” She nodded in agreement as she threaded her fingers between his.
They walked hand in hand through the garden, wrapped so tightly in their first few moments alone to notice the blue sky dotted with clouds, the budding roses, or the robins in the trees. Matthew kissed his wife's fingers, his heart full of gratitude. Cassandra's face glowed warmly in love as she pulled her hand free to brush a few stray raven locks from his brow.
“I knew my father loved you. I guess I did not realize how much. I did not know he felt responsible for your welfare.” Matthew touched Cassandra’s cheek. “What did you do to charm him?”
“I do not know,” Cassandra replied. “The only time I can think of was shortly after you found me in the forest.”
“What happened?”
“I found him staring out the window in the library like he always did. I put a spell on him.” Matthew looked at her, disturbed. Cassandra smiled. She continued, “I searched his memories for your mother then created an apparition for him. To say goodbye.”
Matthew hugged her. “No wonder he loved you so much. But what was he planning when he said he would care for you?”
Cassandra pulled away from him, slightly beaming. “He put me in the arms of the only man he trusted in the world—his son. Your father was good and kind, but he trusted no one. You never saw how proud he was of you. I did. Nothing mattered as much to him as you did, not even me. Maybe I was for you, not you for me.”
“I think we were for each other.” Matthew held her tight to him again. “I wonder what he would say if he came back right now.”
“He would be overjoyed we are together.”
Matthew laughed. “He would be pacing up and down the halls of the palace. Even though there are still two months to go, he would be impatiently waiting for the birth of his grandson.” Matthew touched Cassandra’s face gently. “I have to admit that I am anxious, too, for his arrival. Even though I am afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of the ordeal you must go through. My mother died in childbirth. I am terrified I have given you a death sentence.”
Cassandra kissed Matthew's cheek. “I will be fine. You will be there beside me, holding my hand. All will be well, and we will welcome him together.”
“I love you. You are beautiful and precious.”
“I love you also.”
He took her hand and led her though the rusted gate towards the old oak tree to sit and watch the clouds.
* * * *
Three days passed quickly. Cassandra was pulled from fittings for her gown to meetings with Cook over food for the banquet to long, boring meetings with Joseph over her new duties. And when she thought she might have a minute to herself, she was caught in the arms of her amorous husband searching for a moment of passion with his new bride. Finally, the day of her coronation arrived along with nearly every lord and lady in Savon to witness the event.
Cassandra paced back and forth in front of the chapel doors. She wrung her hands nervously, stopping suddenly as the baby inside her rolled within her womb. She looked up at the grinning courtiers and remembered the ones that watched her as a child when she went to take her vows.
Cassandra glanced at herself in the mirror, gazing at her image as she ran her fingers down the crimson silk, the gold trim and buttons, and the velvet train that draped from her shoulders down along the floor. She swallowed hard as she analyzed the rubies that hung from her neck. Sighing, she began to pace again.
Cassandra froze as a fit of laughter reached her ears. She looked up to see her husband watching her, amused. Mathew crossed the hall to her and took her hand. “Cassa, it will be alright.”
“I do not know, Matthew,” Cassandra replied hesitantly.
“Trust me, love,” he cooed softly. “It will be over before you know it. You will not even feel the pain.”
Cassandra shot a terrified look to him. He laughed harder. “I was jesting. You witnessed mine, Cassa. They did not take blood, did they?”
“No. But what if they do not accept me?” she asked worriedly.
“They will, love. Please do not worry. It is time. I will be beside you all the time, if you need me. All right?”
Cassandra nodded as she wrapped her arm around his. The courtiers opened
the doors. Cassandra clung to Matthew, stumbling beside him as he led her in. She glanced around to the vases of red and crème roses, the candles, and the rows of lords and ladies inspecting her as she breezed by in the rays of the setting sun. Her eyes met her grandfather’s. She gazed pleadingly at him as he beamed proudly at her.
Matthew slipped his arm from Cassandra’s and took his place next to the bishop. She listened intently to the bishop's words as he began with the blessing then proceeded with the sermon. The message became a blur as her heart beat rapidly. She felt her son kick in response. She looked up as the bishop spoke her name, instructing her to kneel. She took Matthew's hand as she gingerly lowered to her knees.
Cassandra clenched her eyes shut as the bishop recited the ceremony, performing the ritual as he did before with her husband. She struggled to wake herself from the wild dream she was living. I am only a peasant girl. I am certainly not a queen.
She pinched herself in the leg through the layers of fabric. Quickly, she bit her tongue to suppress the yelp in her throat. Despite so much cloth, that still hurt. She gasped, startled, as she felt the small gold crown placed on her head. Looking up, she spied Matthew's glowing face.
Helping her to her feet, he wrapped his arm around hers. Then, he turned her to face the crowded church as her mind soared with the full realization of her situation. Cassandra clung to him for dear life as she met the chapel filled with scrutinizing eyes.
She was now the Queen of Savon.
Chapter Thirteen
Matthew drowsily blinked his eyes awake as he wrapped his arms tighter around his sleeping bride. He looked out the open window, watching as the sky grew gray as the sun rose. Sighing, he cradled Cassandra’s naked body closer to his.
Matthew hated the day. For most of his life, he had loved it, finding that sunlight protected him from the nightmares of war and his father's death, which kept him from sleeping. Now, three weeks after the wedding, his views had changed.
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