Once Upon A Time (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  "Do not pity me, Jilliana, rather pity yourself. I am free, you are not."

  "Yes, but you paid a high price, did you not."

  Melesant wanted to strike Jilliana. She had come here to humble her, to taunt her, but she found in Ruyen's wife a strength and courage she could only admire. "A high price indeed, but worth it since I will soon hold the scepters of both Falcon Bruine and Talshamar."

  "You will never reign in Talshamar," Jilliana told her.

  "You do not understand, do you? I will rule through the child you carry. When your baby is born, it will be taken from you. But fear not that the babe will be harmed. I shall take particular care of its health and make it my heir."

  Jilliana could not hide her horror. "You cannot have my baby!"

  Melesant laughed gleefully. She had found a way after all to bring Jilliana to her knees—the child. "Oh, but I can."

  "You would do this to your own son's child?"

  "Let me tell you, my girl, I have done many things, performed many tasks that would offend your delicate sensibilities. I bear no shame for anything and ask pardon of no one."

  Now Jilliana was frightened, not for herself, but for her unborn child. "Have pity, Melesant. Do not take my baby from me."

  Melesant swept to the door, then turned back to her prisoner. "I have every right to the child." She smiled maliciously. "Unless you have bedded someone besides my son and are now attempting to pass the brat off as Ruyen's."

  "You are disgusting."

  Only Melesant's eyes seemed alive in her stone face, and what she saw in those eyes made Jilliana shudder.

  "Only consider," Melesant said smoothly, "without your child, Falcon Bruine has no heir except Cassandra, and I fear my daughter is addle-brained and could never rule this island."

  "You are mad. There is nothing wrong with Cassandra."

  "Perhaps not, but it matters little. I will give you something to ponder. Every day brings you closer to delivering your baby, and before you can even lay eyes upon it, that child will be mine." Now her voice was silken and she smiled slightly. "Is this not a bitter thing to endure, Jilliana?"

  "I will find a way to defeat you," Jilliana said, raising her chin and denying the tears that gathered behind her eyes. "You may ponder that."

  Melesant laughed and left the room.

  Jilliana held on to the back of a chair so tightly that her knuckles whitened. In truth she was trembling like a leaf on an aspen tree. Never had she felt so alone.

  "Ruyen, my beloved," she sobbed, "what am I to do to save our baby?"

  30

  Because of her son's popularity with the people of Falcon Bruine, Melesant had tried to keep Ruyen's death a secret, but of course that had not been possible. Every day for weeks the islanders gathered outside the castle, not saying anything—just staring up at the walls.

  Angrily, Queen Melesant ordered them to be driven away. But the next day, they returned in larger numbers. It was unnerving, and Melesant was trying to think of a way to end their silent siege.

  After a while, she began to ignore them. Without Ruyen's leadership, the people were no more than a disorganized mob, with no mind, no direction, and no hope.

  Jilliana languished in her chamber, her anger smoldering, her heartbreak too painful to bear. She could still not believe that Ruyen was dead. It was all so senseless. She swore that if God in His mercy saw fit to release her from her prison, Queen Melesant would one day pay for what she had done.

  And so the weeks turned into months, and autumn stretched into a long winter. One day followed another and everyone on Falcon Bruine seemed to be waiting for something to happen, but what that was they did not know.

  As Melesant predicted, those who had supported Ruyen floundered without his leadership. Those who backed her watched the sea, fearing reprisals when the Talshamarians learned their queen had been captured.

  Jilliana's spirits plummeted with each passing day. When she stood at her window so high above the ground, she felt like a caged bird, and she was reminded of Eleanor in her prison. It was hard to have hope when there was none.

  "Your Majesty," Netta said with concern. "You look pale. You do not get enough sun and fresh air."

  "There is no help for that, Netta."

  "You need proper clothing since yours no longer fit. And your wardrobe is not suited for winter. But then you did not expect to pass the winter on this island."

  "I will just have to make do with what I have. Queen Eleanor has been a prisoner far longer than I and she has endured it."

  "Yes, but she had the use of a castle, and you have but this room."

  Jilliana smiled faintly. "I do not mind this small space. It suits me. What I do miss is the long walks I took at the convent. I remember the mornings when the grass was still wet with dew. I miss the aroma of wood smoke and the way the earth smells just after a rain. Mostly, though, I miss Ruyen."

  Netta's eyes were filled with tears. "My poor lady, it breaks my heart to see you pining away for your dead husband. If I could rid you of the pain, I would do so."

  Jilliana picked up her sewing and took several small stitches before laying it aside once more. "Netta, I believe there is something we should talk about. You know that Queen Melesant is never going to let me leave here alive."

  Netta's throat became choked with sobs. "I will not believe that. You are too good and kind to die. I will not believe that there is no hope."

  "Dear Netta, do not weep for me. I do have one hope— you are that hope."

  Netta dried her eyes and looked puzzled. "Me?"

  "Yes. Netta, I know how you would like to return to Talshamar and be with your husband and family."

  "I would never leave you."

  "Netta, I have tried to think as Melesant thinks and I know that when I am dead, she will not allow you to live either."

  "I have thought this also, Your Majesty. But it matters not. My place is at your side."

  "But there is hope for you. I must convince Melesant that my baby will need someone from Talshamar as nurse."

  Netta looked surprised. "You would want me to care for the royal child?"

  "I would trust no other."

  "But if you die, I will not want to live."

  "You must, so you can one day tell my baby what has happened and instill pride in her. Will you do that for me?"

  Netta's shoulders slumped. "Aye, Your Majesty. The pity is that the closer it gets to the birth of the child…the closer it gets to—"

  "I know, Netta. But we will not think of that. There is something else I want you to do for me."

  "Anything."

  Jilliana lowered her voice. "Is there anyone in the kitchen that you can trust?"

  "I am not certain. I believe many do not approve of what has happened to you. The head cook is a jolly-faced woman who is always inquiring about you. You know she bakes those special cakes for you."

  "Do you think she could be trusted enough to get a message to Cassandra?"

  "I think so. I shall ask her, but it may take time to see her alone."

  "I am worried about the princess. I know she has no part in this. She must be so saddened by what has happened, and I want her to know that I believe in her innocence."

  Jilliana walked to the bed and lay down. "I am very weary now, Netta. I'll just rest for a bit."

  She turned her face to the wall. Sleep was the only freedom allowed her. For while she slept, she dreamed of her beloved. He was alive and holding her tenderly in his arms as he had done their last night together.

  At that moment, there was a loud pounding on the door. Jilliana sat up and watched as two guards entered unannounced.

  "Why are you bothering Her Majesty?" Netta asked, standing between them and Jilliana.

  "Queen Melesant told us to take your lady's jewel coffers and her trunks."

  Netta knew the coffers contained many valuable jewels as well as the crown of Talshamar. "You cannot have them."

  "It matters but little, Netta," J
illiana said, fearing her loyal maid would protest too much and one of the men might hurt her. "Let them take what they will."

  After the guards had left, Jilliana and Netta sat in silence for a time.

  "That is the last of it," Jilliana stated. "I have nothing else for Melesant to take but my baby and my life."

  "She is evil."

  Jilliana moved off the bed and walked to the window. "Aye, that she is," she said, watching a flock of birds in perfect formation arch across the blue skies. Winter still blew its frosty breath down on the island, and she knew that in spring her baby would be born.

  She touched her stomach, loving the child that grew there, because while she had the child, she still retained that small part of Ruyen. She had faced defeat, but she would not be defeated. Ruyen had taught her that.

  Spring was late. The wind was howling past the battlements and snow was flying in a frenzy of white. Inside the small bedchamber, Jilliana was in the thralls of labor and she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out in pain.

  Since a guard was always posted outside the door, Jilliana clamped her hand over her mouth and groaned.

  "Netta, I must not cry out," she gasped, as another pain ripped through her body. "I must bear this in silence, lest Melesant's man hears and reports to her."

  She held Netta's hand tightly while she arched her body. "Oh, Netta, the pain is so bad."

  The maid wiped a damp cloth across Jilliana's forehead. She was witnessing a kind of courage that she could only admire. How could the queen suffer so much pain in silence.

  "If I could bear it for you, I would do so, Your Majesty."

  The two of them had shared so much that Jilliana felt affection for this woman of humble birth. Now she must call on Netta's strength because hers was ebbing. The pains had begun just after the midnight hour and now it was almost noon.

  Netta had made several trips downstairs. First, she had gone to fetch water, then linens and towels. She dared not leave Jilliana alone again, for the pains were more frequent and it was surely time for the baby to be born.

  "It is taking so long, Your Majesty. Should I not get help for you?"

  "No, no! If Melesant learns of the birth of my baby, she will take it from me. I want to keep it with me as long as I can— We must—"

  Just then another pain pinned Jilliana to the bed and she moaned, turning her head from side to side. She wanted to scream because it felt as if a tight vice was squeezing her body. This one seemed to last longer than the others, and when it subsided, Jilliana was so weak she could scarcely raise her hand.

  "Netta, will it be much longer?"

  "I know so little about childbirth, Your Majesty," Netta replied sadly. "I pray the child comes soon."

  Jilliana whimpered softly and twisted her body as a tight wave of pain engulfed her.

  Netta felt fear grip her—the baby was being born! Gently she took the head in her hands and guided the tiny body as it finally emerged. After the cord was clipped, she wrapped the child in a warm blanket and held it lovingly in her arms.

  "Your Majesty, it is a girl—a princess!"

  Jilliana's tense body trembled and her head fell back against the pillow. She was so weary, all she wanted to do was sleep. "Is she all right? Should not a baby cry?"

  Netta laughed. "She is perfect. The princess did not cry because she wants to remain with her mother. It is a miracle, is it not?"

  "Yes, a miracle," Jilliana said weakly.

  Netta handed the little princess to her mother. Jilliana smiled as she touched the small hand and then placed a kiss on the soft cheek.

  "She is beautiful."

  "Aye, like her mother."

  Their eyes met, and both women knew that the child would soon be taken away. They could not keep her birth a secret for long.

  "Put the child to your breast, Your Majesty. You have the means of feeding her, and it will help prevent her from crying."

  As the rosebud mouth closed on Jilliana's breast, tears rolled down her cheeks. "How can I ever give her up?"

  Netta had no answer, but her eyes were filled with pain. She had come to know the compassion and kindness of the queen, and that someone as evil as Melesant should torture her so made her angry.

  "I will go below to fetch you something to eat. You will need nourishment to regain your strength."

  "So I can be strong for the execution, Netta? How do you suppose they will do it?"

  "I . . . cannot . . . think it will . . . happen." Netta rushed to the door and rapped three times, the signal to the guard that she wanted to leave the chamber.

  Jilliana pulled the cover over the child, lest the guard see her. When she was alone with her new daughter, she gently swept her hand over the tiny head.

  "My dearest daughter, I gave you life, but I cannot protect you for long." She closed her eyes and tears of anguish squeezed through the eyelids. "I hope that you will one day learn about your father, and how he gave his life for you and me."

  Jilliana knew now the heartbreak her mother must have felt when she had sent her daughter to safety, knowing she would soon die. Like her mother, she would not be allowed to see her daughter grow to womanhood.

  On entering the kitchen, Netta was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she paid little attention to those about her. It was her habit to prepare a tray for Jilliana and she did so now. The cook nodded to her.

  "Netta, if you will go into the storeroom, there is extra cheese for your lady."

  Netta was about to refuse when the cook nodded. "Go, now— Go. She will like the cheese."

  Netta had intended to speak to the cook about Princess Cassandra as the queen had urged, but there had never been a moment when they had been alone.

  When she entered the storeroom, she saw a slab of cheese on a round table and took up a knife to slice it when someone spoke up behind her. She was startled when she heard Princess Cassandra emerge from behind a large barrel.

  "Quickly, Netta, how is your mistress? Does she fare well?"

  The maid stared into the young girl's eyes, wondering if she dared trust her. The queen trusted her, and she might be their last hope.

  "She is not well."

  "Oh, I feared as much. I have been frantic for her safety."

  Netta decided to confide in the princess. She lowered her voice lest they be overheard. "Her Majesty gave birth to a daughter, this very day. No one knows."

  Cassandra's eyes filled with tears. "We must act quickly, then, for Jilliana is in grave danger now that the child has been born."

  "What can we do?"

  "Tell her not to lose heart. Sir Edward has survived and has just returned from Queen Eleanor with a plan to save her. She must be ready to act quickly when the opportunity comes. It must be soon."

  There was hope mirrored in Netta's eyes. "I will tell Her Majesty what you have said."

  "Go now, quickly! We do not want to arouse suspicion."

  Netta grabbed up a large hunk of cheese and placed it on the tray. "Oh, bless you, Your Highness. You have given me hope. But have a care, for to help my queen is to bring danger to yourself."

  "I shall."

  As Netta climbed the stairs with a spring in her step, she did not know that black, malevolent eyes watched her from an open doorway.

  Queen Melesant shook her head and drew back into the library, motioning for Escobar to follow her. "Your assumption is absurd. Jilliana would have been screaming and everyone would have heard her if she was giving birth."

  "The guard reported to me that the servant has been acting suspiciously all day. He said that he had to let her out several times and she came downstairs on one pretense, then another. It is my belief that Queen Jilliana is having her baby, or perhaps she has already delivered."

  Melesant walked hurriedly out the door, heading for the stairs. "I'll just see for myself."

  Jilliana was propped against pillows, holding her sleeping daughter, when she heard the sound of the lock sliding and the door was thrust open.
/>
  She clutched the baby to her as Melesant stormed into the room, her eyes blazing, her face distorted with fury.

  "So, foolish girl, you thought to keep the child a secret from me?"

  Netta would have stepped between Jilliana and her mother-in-law, but Jilliana shook her head. "This is my baby, and you cannot have her."

  "Ah, so it is a girl." Melesant walked closer, peering at her granddaughter, and her shadow fell across the infant's face like an evil omen. "Give her to me."

  Jilliana's grip on her daughter tightened. "No, I will not!"

  "I think you will." Melesant called over her shoulder. "Step inside, Escobar, I may have need of you."

  Jilliana became a mother fighting for her young. She slid off the bed and hurried toward the open door, but before she could reach freedom, Escobar blocked her path. His smile sent shivers down her spine.

  She turned back to her mother-in-law, her eyes pleading. "I beseech you, do not do this. Do not take my baby. I am willing to do anything you ask, but let me keep my baby."

  "So, the mighty queen of Talshamar is humbled and begs like any of the common people," Melesant said, enjoying Jilliana's torment.

  Jilliana fell to her knees, still clutching the child. "Yes, I'll beg or do anything you ask of me, only do not take my daughter."

  "Grab her!" Melesant shouted to Escobar. "Hold her fast."

  He grasped Jilliana about the waist, while Melesant ripped the child from her arms. For the first time since she had been born, the infant began to cry.

  Netta's loyal heart was burning with indignation. She rushed to Jilliana and gathered her into her arms. "Give the princess back to Her Majesty. You cannot do this to her."

  "Out of my way, toad," Melesant said, sweeping to the door and out of the room.

  Jilliana held her hand out entreatingly, but the door slammed behind Melesant, and the bolt ground into place. Jilliana sank to her knees and lowered her head until it touched the floor. She could hear the sound of her daughter crying. It became fainter, and then she could hear it no more.

  "Oh, God, watch over my baby," she moaned. "What will happen to her?"

  Netta sadly shook her head. "Allow me to help you into bed, Your Majesty."