Securing Aisling

by Andrea Boyd

  I looked down with dismay at the short list in my hand. “I find it hard to believe that there are only five eligible men on this list and none of them very promising.”

  I tossed the page down on the table in front of me. I was more discouraged than before. “I am assuming I will see all of these men at the Summer Session. I will make a point of talking with each one before I make any decisions. Who knows, maybe one of them will make a better impression than what I have in mind right now. I can only hope.”

  “You only need one, and my vote goes to Dunbar.”

  “There is no vote, Reilly. Ultimately, this is Queen Brianna’s decision. We are only here to give council.” Eamon then turned his gentle blue eyes toward me. “Do not lose heart, My Queen. I am sure after much thought and prayer the solution will become clear. We are behind you no matter what choice you may make.”

  Two

  AFTER THE MEETING, I retired to my chambers only to pace the sitting room floor like a caged animal. That is exactly what I was—caged, blocked in, my life set by forces beyond my control. You would think being queen would put everything within your power, but really the opposite was true. It seemed every choice I made was for the benefit of the kingdom with no regard for my own hopes and dreams.

  What I really needed was more time. It had been just a little over a year since my reign began. I was only now becoming comfortable with my position. I wanted my marriage to happen because of my own readiness, not because the law said I should be ready. I also wanted what every other girl of seventeen wanted—to know what it was like to fall in love.

  Was it too much to hope for to be swept off my feet instead of having to choose from a short list of men who knew almost nothing about me? I wanted the kind of romance that inspired poetry. Years from now, I had wanted my great, great grandchildren to be telling their own children the story of how I fell hopelessly into love.

  I was barely past the age of eleven when my mother died and then less than five years later my father joined her. It was sad to say that I did not remember much about the marriage my parents had shared. Had they been happy together? I wished more than anything that they were here to consult with me. But of course, if they were here, I would not be in this predicament. I could take all the time I needed.

  This suite in which I now paced had once belonged to them. I had refused to move in here too soon after my father’s death. A few months ago these rooms had been cleared of all traces of my parents and completely redecorated according to my taste. It was not that I wanted to wipe away all memory of them, I just wanted it to feel like my own and not as if I were invading what once was theirs. In less than six months, I could be sharing this space with a stranger. Just thinking about it made my stomach tighten with fear.

  Everything here spoke of Aisling and the sea that surrounded my home. The rugs covering most of the floors were woven from muted colors that hinted at the sandy beach seen through the large windows facing west. The teak wood used in all of the furniture had been harvested from our own coast. The fabrics mirrored the colors of the sea in soft shades of blue and green with small pops of red here and there to add interest.

  These chambers once displayed a vast collection of art and mementos of my parents’ lives together. It was now decorated simply, with fresh flowers, fruit, and my own collection of seashells. There were a couple of beach-scene paintings on the walls that represented my inept attempt at watercolor, but that was it. Most of the things I had accumulated up until now had been left behind, along with my childhood. What would my future husband bring to these rooms? Would everything change again once I was married?

  I walked over to the book case, flipped open the lid on the carved wooden box sitting on top and pulled out a bundle of letters. Only a few people knew what these correspondences held. The truth was I had received quite a few offers of marriage, but they were from men I did not know who resided outside of Kearnley. All were nobles who had the desire to rule a kingdom of their own. I did not feel compelled to accept any proposal that was not in the best interest of my people.

  Every time I received one, I had been tempted to burn the whole stack. Something had held me back. Now that I was more aware of how few suitors Kearnley had to offer, I was glad I had kept them. Desperation may have me perusing these letters for a proper mate after all in the not so distant future. This thought added very little to my comfort. I placed the bundle back into the box and continued pacing.

  I could see moonlight streaming across my bed in the darkened room adjacent to this one. There was nothing special about my bed chamber. To me its best feature was the private balcony. Sometimes I left the door leading to that balcony open just to feel the breeze and to hear the roar of the ocean sweeping through my chambers. There were plenty of places to sit out there including my favorite, a chaise lounge built for two. I loved to sit with the wind blowing my hair across my face and just think about everything or nothing in particular. I was tempted to go there now with only the moon for company.

  Maybe I would take a long bath first. That would surely calm my nerves. One tug on the bell pull, and servants would come bearing hot water along with the scented soaps and oils that were made just for me. I sometimes liked to sit in my deep tub and just soak my worries away until the water was cold and I was as wrinkled as Agata.

  Agata had been my nursemaid from infancy until I was too old to need a nursemaid, but she still took care of me. If Eamon was like a father to me then Agata would be like my mother, more so really since I remembered very little of my mother. She came in the middle of my pacing offering to have my dinner brought up, but I refused and sent her away. I hope I had been gentle. It was hard to say with thoughts about the council meeting still drumming in my head. Besides, Agata’s opinion had already been well established. She had been after me consistently since my coronation about my need to find a husband. I did not want to have this discussion with her again.

  I swung around at the sound of the door opening again. It was Gwen this time. She had nothing at all to do with castle politics, but she always seemed to know when I needed her.

  “Rough day?”

  I nodded.

  “Come, allow me to work on your hair while you talk if you need to.”

  Gwendolyn Alexander was niece to Eamon, daughter to the castle’s steward, and the best friend of my life. She had come as a friend tonight and not a servant. Instead of sending me back through my bedchamber to my dressing table, she motioned for me to sit at the desk in my private little study on the opposite side of the room from my sitting area. She gently pulled the tangles free from my hair as I stared at the books on one of my shelves.

  This routine was so familiar to me. She never pressured me to tell all of my cares and worries like Agata was known to do. She would just come in with her calm attitude and soothing ways, and I would spill everything. The best part was knowing that whatever I said would stay between the two of us.

  Without further prompting, after a few minutes I began to reveal everything that had been said during the meeting. “My advisors were pressuring me about choosing a husband harder than ever tonight, even Eamon. We made a list of all of my suitable prospects, and guess how many made the list? Five! I have to choose from only five men. Two of them are as old as Methuselah, and the other three belong to King Coman.”

  “Five you say? Well, if anything, that should make it easier.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “What if after weighing all of my options and choosing the one I believe to be the best of the few eligible men, he turns out to be unbearable? At this point I might as well spin around with my eyes closed and my finger pointed, picking whichever I land on.”

  “Is this your biggest concern about finding a spouse? I am sure if he turns out to be unbearable as you say, you will figure a way to work through it.”

  “If truth be told it is what happens after the ceremony that scares me the most. How do you share an intimate relationship with a complete stranger? How d
o you work that out?” I could feel the heat creeping up the side of my face.

  Gwen was now tying off the end of my long auburn braid. “I know nothing about that subject. I admit that I have never experienced it myself, but women have gotten through arranged marriages before. This is no different. I am sure you will figure it out as you go along the same way I am guessing everyone else does. It is not as if couples are handed a book of instructions on their wedding day. Have you never thought your future husband could have the same fears when the time comes?”

  I stood and started my pacing once again. “I doubt that very seriously.”

  Gwen calmly opened a drawer in my desk and pulled out a spare piece of parchment, a quill, and ink. She then sat down on the end of one of the two overstuffed couches facing each other in my sitting room. “You just need to focus on finding a man for now. The rest will fall into place. I can see this situation calls for a list. Forget about what is proper, what the council wants, what is best for the people, all of that. What qualities are YOU looking for in a husband?”

  “I cannot believe you of all people are suggesting I forget being proper.” This was said with an exaggerated gasp and my hand thrown over my heart. I may be the one owning the crown, but Gwen was a better fit to the expected image of a queen. She just raised her perfectly shaped blond eyebrows and jabbed the point of the quill at the parchment in front of her while making an obvious attempt not to smile at my antics.

  I threw myself down on the other end of the couch and drew my knees up toward my chest. “Right. Well, let me think.” I tapped my fingers across my thick bottom lip, trying to fight back my own grin. As serious as Gwen appeared at this moment, I knew where this list making was going to take us. We had played this game many times over the years. Making up silly lists and laughing away the tension before we got down to the real business at hand. I could always count on her to lighten my foul mood.

  “For one thing, he should be totally committed to me, agreeing to allow me to run things my way while he does, I have no idea, whatever it is boys like to do in their spare time.”

  Gwen let the quill fly across the parchment while slowly repeating each word as she wrote. “Gives in to my every whim, much like a servant.”

  I pointed a finger at her. “Exactly. And not one with too many winters behind him either. I want someone close in age to myself. Let us just say within ten years of my age.”

  Gwen bounced a little in her seat at this one. “Ooh! Have you considered King Coman’s youngest? Rian is, what, maybe thirteen years old? That is well within the ten year range.”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled, well aware of the fact that she had purposely exaggerated his age. “He is nine, and no. You know I meant someone older. Unless . . . maybe if I were to be allowed another ten years before being married and they allowed someone like Eamon to finish raising him. Although, I am not so sure ten years would be enough even for Eamon to straighten that child out. I am afraid he is beyond hope. I guess we will have to go with someone my age or a little older as I said. Go on, write it down.” I flicked my hand toward the parchment as if I had set her about a chore of utmost importance.

  She held up one finger. “Just a moment, I am not so sure if I would give up on the idea of a much older gentleman if I were you. Just think, before long you could have the respected title of widow, allowing you time to seek out the one you really want.” Gwen’s lips were pressed together trying to suppress the giggles that wanted desperately to come out. I stuck my finger in my mouth and faked a gag.

  She did giggle then. “All right, I have got it, No geezers.” Gwen wrote and we both laughed. “What else do you seek from this perfect man you are describing?”

  “Well, I think it is important for us to share some of the same ideas, interests, beliefs, and such. I do not mean everything should be just alike, that would be boring, but, you know, the basics.” I had been half joking up to this point, but this part was a true concern of mine.

  There was no comment from Gwen this time. She just leaned over the parchment and said, “Smart like me, Not a worshiper of Baal,” and then looked back at me. “Anything else?”

  I tapped my chin trying to imagine what else I would want in a husband.

  “Bria, I cannot believe that you have yet to mention his looks. That is one of the most important parts.”

  “It is not that I would want an ugly man, but looks are not the most important thing to me.”

  “Well, maybe not the most important, but physical attraction is usually one of the first things that draw two people together. So, what kind of physical attributes does Brianna Reaner, Queen of Aisling, find appealing in the male species?”

  Gwen had her pick of men, but I had truly never given boys in general much thought up until now. I suppose all of the talk starting early in my life about marrying for the sake of the kingdom had sent me in the opposite direction. “You know, the usual—nice teeth, kind eyes, and good hair. What else is there to say?”

  “Bria, we are not talking about buying a horse.”

  “I wish we were. That would be much easier, and I would prefer that to trying to find a husband.”

  She laughed and then studied the parchment in front of her for a moment. I wondered what features she found attractive in a man. Judging by her list of suitors, she did not seem to have a preference where looks were concerned. “Try this. Close your eyes and think. In all the land, of every man you have ever met, who have you found to be the most attractive? And it is no matter if he is unavailable or unsuitable. We are only trying to come up with features.”

  I closed my eyes and a very unexpected image immediately popped into my head, but I pushed it aside just as quickly. “There is no one. What do we have on the list so far?”

  “Let me see.

  Gives in to my every whim, much like a servant.

  No geezers.

  Smart like me.

  Not a worshiper of Baal.

  And I am adding, Horse-like features.

  Is there anything else you would like to add?”

  “Nothing comes to mind.”

  She handed the list to me. “Does any of this help?”

  “No. Yes. Well, the no geezers does eliminate two from my list. That just leaves King Coman’s offspring. I would not take any of them for worshipers of Baal, at least I hope they are not.”

  Gwen gave me a huge grin. “And we both know that all of the princes of Gilvary are blessed with good looks.”

  “I have not noticed.” Okay, that was a lie. Even a monk could not help but notice. The good looks of the Barnali princes were famed throughout Kearnley and beyond.

  Gwen gave me a skeptical look before going on. “Now all you have to do is figure out if any of them have any smarts to go with those looks and is also pliable to your thoughts and wishes, and you will have found your match.”

  “Unless my thoughts and wishes ever begin to line up with King Coman’s, that leaves Dunbar out.”

  “Good, you have narrowed it down to two then.”

  “Actually, I cannot rule Dunbar out just yet. I have promised myself that I will clear every one of them of any former charges, giving them all the same chance to impress me at Summer Session before making any decisions. Dunbar is not his father’s puppet, Reagan is not the biggest flirt in Kearnley, and I will not allow Garrett to go into hiding even if I have to hunt him down myself. With so few choices, I cannot afford to be closed-minded.”

  “What will you do if none of these work out?”

  “Then I will have to marry someone else. I have no choice.” We both glanced over at the box of letters on my bookshelf at the same time. Gwen knew this would be my last resort.

  I turned back to my friend. “I already know that King Coman would love to rule over the whole country, but I will not relinquish power over my kingdom to him or anyone else. As you know, I do not have to marry a prince, but it would be the best choice for Aisling, and I would think it would get him off my back if I were
to marry one of his sons. Do you not think so?”

  “I am so glad that no kingdom is depending on me. I do not know if I should ever marry, but if I do, I hope it is only because I have fallen madly in love.”

  “Hmm, if only I could be so fortunate.”

  “I am sorry. It was insensitive of me to speak of love considering your dilemma.”

  “I would wish nothing less for you, my friend. I know I complain too much and some of the aspects of ruling this kingdom are rather unpleasant, but I could not imagine doing anything else.”

  She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Then it is a good thing this lot fell to you. It is late, and I am off to bed. We have a long trip ahead of us, and you should get as much rest as possible before it begins.”

  After Gwen left, I took one last look at the list before placing it in the drawer of the end table beside the couch. It was a silly little list, but it had served a purpose. I was more at ease now and ready for sleep.

  I extinguished all the candles and headed into my bedchamber with only the light of the moon to show me the way. I undressed and slipped on the nightgown that was waiting there for me. I always savored the feel of the cool sheets on my skin. I was asleep before my prayers were finished. That night I dreamed of walking along the shore with a nameless, faceless husband. We were each holding the hands of a toddler between us. I awoke the next morning feeling blissfully and unexplainably happy.

  Three

  SUNDAY WAS A day of rest at Castle Aisling with the servants doing the bare minimum to see us through, so I dressed and arranged my hair without Agata’s help that morning. I hurried through breakfast. If not for the conversations from the day before weighing heavily on my mind, I would have waited to eat with Gwen. I wanted to arrive at church early enough to speak with Parson Nevan before services began.

  A small chapel resided within the castle, but just before Father died a much larger church had been erected just outside the castle gates to accommodate a larger crowd. People were already headed in that direction, all dressed in their Sunday best. I skirted around and entered through the back door so I could enter right at the parson’s study where he would likely be preparing to deliver the morning message. I peeked in through the open door, and he looked up from thumbing through his well-worn Bible.