by Shay Savage
I tried to give him the space he seemed to require, hoping that as soon as Hadley was with child, he would stop berating himself and come back to me. I went to our bed alone at night, waited for him for some time, and then would end up falling asleep alone. If he was there when I woke, he would leave before breakfast was brought to us and even before I could heat water for his tea.
When he spoke, his sentences were short and succinct.
He no longer responded in kind when I told him I loved him.
Sunniva told me he kept in close contact with Camden, would eat when something was brought to him, and was going to Hadley on the days he was obligated though never any others. My heart was torn—part of me wanting him to give her a child quickly so his melancholy state could be tempered, and the other part glad to know he was not spending any more time with her than was required of him.
My chest grew heavy as I watched him move further and further away from me, unsure of what I should do and praying Hadley would carry a child for us soon so I could find a way to bring my husband back to me. However, my prayers were not answered.
Spring came and went, and Hadley was still not with child.
“Sit with me,” I said quietly to her as I sat in the Women’s Room with my sewing in hand.
“Of course,” Hadley said softly. She had only just entered the room where I was already staying the previous night though I probably could have stayed in my own rooms. Branford had apparently left for Seacrest though he had not even informed me of his departure.
“Are you well?” I asked.
She tilted her head to the side, and I nodded to Janet, who brought us both tea and fruit.
“I saw you walking in the garden with Sir Brigham,” I said with my lips in a tight, teasing smile. Hadley blushed and nodded. Given her role, Sir Brigham was not allowed to touch Hadley, but they seemed to enjoy their time together. She was also always accompanied by Samantha or one of the other women. I hoped for Hadley’s sake she would someday be able to be at Sir Brigham’s side.
“He is…kind.”
“He is,” I agreed.
Hadley looked around the room as she sipped her tea, and as the other women moved farther away, she leaned toward me.
“Is Sir Branford terribly angry?” she asked.
I could only shake my head.
“I do not believe anger is what plagues his mind,” I told her. “I cannot say for sure, for he has not spoken to me of many matters for some time now.”
“He does not speak to me,” she said softly.
I felt a now familiar pang in my chest, and as my throat tightened, I swallowed hard and blinked several times. As I fought to control the emotions that threatened to overcome me, I felt Hadley’s hand on my arm and looked at her.
“I am sorry it is this way for you,” I whispered. “I thought…well, we all thought…”
“I should be with child,” she stated.
“Yes.”
“Alexandra?” Hadley turned her questioning eyes to me. “Is it…is it possible that Sir Branford…could he…or rather, perhaps he cannot…”
I shook my head slightly, but sharply. I understood what she was suggesting, but if such an insult were heard from her lips, it would not be taken kindly by many in the kingdom.
Some thoughts were simply not spoken.
*****
Branford’s state deteriorated as the months went by. He spent many, many hours in council with King Camden, who was now forced to rule from the royal bed. Edgar made a point of coming to Silverhelm at least once a week, demanding to see Camden for himself and insisting Branford take the throne immediately. Branford refused on both accounts, but even with our distance, I could see the strain it placed on him as Edgar continuously threatened both Branford and Silverhelm with violence if he did not get his way.
Branford rarely spoke to me or even looked my way unless decorum demanded it.
As the summer heat beat down on the castle walls, Ida and Parnell came to visit from Sawyer with their petite daughter, Emma. She was already becoming a beautiful blending of her parent’s features—with Parnell’s laughing blue eyes and Ida’s dark, straight hair. I took the child in my arms and held her up high, smiling as she giggled down at me.
Branford acknowledged his sister and her family but turned away from them quickly. His gaze met mine, but he looked away from me and down to the floor. Ida glanced at me, and the hurt in her eyes was evident. Though I had traveled many times to Sawyer since Emma’s birth, it was the first time Branford had even laid eyes on his niece because he had been away when Ida brought her to meet Camden. Every time we were to visit, Branford would come up with an excuse not to go to Sawyer.
It was then I decided enough was enough. I returned the child to her mother, made my apologies, and followed him out the door and into the hallway.
“Branford?” I called. He did not turn, and I had to hold up my skirts and quicken my pace to keep up with him. “Branford!”
He made his way through the door to our rooms, and I followed after him, still calling his name. As I shut the door to block anyone who may have tried to follow, he stopped with his head still tipped down to the floor and his back to me.
I walked up and around him, tilting my head to the side to peer into his face.
“Will you not even acknowledge your niece?” I looked up at his eyes and was met with the same cold stare that had become common with him. I reached for his hand, but he pulled away before I could touch him.
“I saw her,” Branford said curtly. “She seems in good health. Parnell is very proud and speaks of Ida bearing him a son next, God willing.”
His stoicism was downright annoying.
“Branford…you cannot continue to shut me out,” I told him. This time when I reached for his hand, I grabbed it before he could pull it away. I slipped my fingers in between his and heard his long intake of breath. “I know it has been…difficult…but we cannot continue this way.”
Branford looked toward the wall and blinked a few times before speaking.
“Camden is dying,” he said. “He may last a few more days, possibly a fortnight, but his time is at an end. That is why I asked Ida and Parnell to come here. Camden has asked me to take the throne before he dies.”
I felt a cold shiver run through my body. Though we knew this day would come sooner rather than later, I thought there would be more time.
My husband’s gaze turned to me, the cold, unfeeling stare I had seen in his eyes these past months vanished, and I saw my Branford behind his lashes.
“I am not ready to be king,” he said quietly. “I do not even think I want it.”
“Branford, you must…”
“I know I must!” He growled as he shook free of my hand. “That is not the point!”
He breathed deeply as his hand ran through his long, tousled hair. When he turned back to me, I saw how much he had really aged in the past year. He no longer looked like the youthful, strong knight that had first taken me by my waist and pulled me from the stands at Hadebrand’s arena. Now he looked older, broken, and lost.
“I thought…for a time…maybe God had forgiven me,” he said. His voice had again grown quiet. “Everything with you was so…so perfect. And then, every choice I made slowly destroyed that perfection and left me with what I have now—a broken kingdom, frightened subjects, a tyrant ready to pounce on all I hold dear, a wife who…who…”
He faltered, and I reached for him. He stepped back again, denying himself my touch.
“A wife who endures everything I throw at her, believing me to be worth it in the end, no matter what the cost.”
He turned away from me, and it tore at my heart to have him refuse my touch completely.
“You should not have agreed,” he said. “You should have told me to choose another. Even as a servant, your life would have been better without me.”
“Branford! Do not say such things!”
“Why not if it is the truth?” he yelled as
he spun around to look at me. “There is nothing I have to offer you except grief!”
“That is not the truth!” I yelled back at him, and the shock in his face registered. I had never before raised my voice to him for any reason. In fact, anyone within Silverhelm’s control who would have spoken to him with such venom would likely not have lived to see another day, save the king and queen. But I simply could not abide any more of this. “As my prince, future king, and husband, you get to dictate much, but you do not get to decide how I feel! You do not get to determine what I feel is right or best for me! What I feel is for me to decide, and me alone, and I love you!”
He stood with his hands at his sides, his mouth open, and his eyes wide with astonishment. My heart pounded in my chest, and my hands shook as my blood boiled under my skin. My breath left my nose in forceful huffs as I stared into my husband’s vivid green eyes for a long, long time.
Slowly, my ire receded as Branford continued to stare at me, dumbfounded. For a moment, I was frightened at what I had just done, and what his reaction may be. However, I knew my husband’s heart even if he did not always know it himself. I closed my eyes, took a final deep breath, and stepped toward him with my hands reaching outward.
“You are worth it,” I whispered. “You gave me something I never thought I would have. You gave me your love and showed me how to love you. How could that not be worth whatever Edgar can throw at us?”
“I am not worth it,” he said again. “I have only given you pain.”
“When you touch me, I only feel the pleasure your hands can bring to me.”
His eyes flickered to mine, wide and questioning. I watched his tongue dart out and moisten his lips as his eyes quickly took in my body.
He did still want me.
“Branford, I love you,” I said as I reached up and put my hands around his neck. I felt him tense under my touch.
“How can you?” he asked, and his eyes beseeched me for an answer. “After…after what I have done? When I told you I would keep to you…you are all I ever wanted.”
“I know, my Branford,” I told him. “All of this has been…terrifying. I never know where you have gone afterwards…and it is sometimes days before you return to me. You will not let me…be with you. You will not let me care for you, which is what I am supposed to do.”
Blinking rapidly, I tried to hold back my tears.
“On the night we were married, you told me what you expected of me as your wife,” I reminded him. “Do you remember?”
Branford nodded.
“You said I was to respect you and learn to conduct myself as your wife so as not to embarrass you,” I said. “You said I was to care for you as a wife should, to keep our rooms in order, and to…to someday…”
I dropped my eyes and swallowed past the lump in my throat.
“I have already failed to provide you with a child,” I blurted out, “but now you will not allow me to do the other things that are supposed to be my duties as your wife! I fear I am completely useless to you now…”
“God, oh God, no,” Branford murmured, and his arms came around me as he swept me up into his embrace for the first time in months. “Alexandra…no.”
He sat down in our chair and held me to him, rocking me as I tucked my face against his neck and shoulder. Branford rocked slowly back and forth as he had done so many times in the now distant past. I held him tightly as I reacquainted myself with his scent and his touch. I felt the strong, powerful grip of his arms around me, and once again I felt the security of his embrace.
He held me, and he rocked me like the child, like the child we could not produce together.
“Edgar wants to destroy me from the inside out,” Branford said after some time. “He wants to be sure by the time I take the throne, I will be nothing but a shell for him to control.”
“Edgar cannot win, Branford,” I told him. “As long as we do not let him come between us, he cannot truly win.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I know the one thing he cannot take from me.”
“What is that?”
I gripped his face, and I turned him to look at me.
“My love for you, my Branford,” I said with conviction. “There is nothing that can take that from me and no one who can force me to feel any other way. No matter what you have to do, my love for you remains. You are everything to me, my husband. I only wish to be with you…to care for you as I am supposed to do.”
He brushed his fingers over my cheek, and his chest rose with his breath. I could feel his heart pounding close to mine and felt its tempo increase as he continued to look into my eyes. We stayed that way for some time, just looking at each other as we had so many times in the past. Finally, he slipped his fingers behind my head and entwined them with the hair at the back of my neck. He pulled me to him.
“Nothing would ever change how much I love you,” he whispered against my mouth though he did not quite kiss me. “I do not believe I am worth what you have endured, but I will endeavor to better myself for you.”
“You may start by letting me do my duties,” I told him. My fingers scratched at his bearded face. “Starting with this?”
Branford gave me the half smile I loved so much and nodded his head.
“I have neglected you,” he said.
“And you will make up for it now.” Before he could react, I kissed him quickly to avoid the return of his sadness.
We did not leave our room that night and even set a guard at the door to make sure we were not disturbed. Branford bathed me and brushed my hair dry in front of the fire as he spoke to me of the litter of pups Amarra had in the kennel and how many of the young men in his new army were learning their skills. I bathed and shaved him, taking extra care to wash and cut his hair before I made his tea.
As he carried me, naked, to our bed, I felt as though maybe everything would be all right again.
*****
It was still very early in the morning when I opened my eyes, surprised not to find my husband lying next to me. Since the day Ida and Parnell had brought their daughter to visit us, he had been at my side almost constantly, and I had quickly grown accustomed to it again. It was strange not to have his warmth wrapped around me when I woke.
I rose and dressed without looking for Janet’s assistance. The sun was glimmering through the morning room window, but its light was still dim. I moved into the hallway and checked Camden and Sunniva’s rooms, but the guard told me Branford had already left there. I decided to head down the back hallway to see if he had gone to the great hall since the court would be assembled there later today.
As I made my way down the steep staircase that led to the door hidden behind the thrones, I heard my husband’s muffled voice. I smiled to myself, glad I would not have to seek him further, but my smile disappeared when another voice reached my ears.
“Is the old man even still alive?” Edgar asked, making no attempt to disguise the scorn in his voice.
“He is quite alive, yes,” Branford replied. I could hear the strain in his voice as he fought to keep control. I stopped at the bottom stair and opened the door a crack. I could not see them, but I could hear them better.
“Are you waiting for his flesh to rot before you take your place on the throne,” Edgar asked, “or are you simply too unprepared and frightened to take the place that is only barely your birthright?”
Even though I could not see him, I knew my Branford well enough to know his fists were clenched and his jaw tight.
“When King Camden feels the time is right, I will take his place on the throne,” Branford said. “The exact time of that occurrence is not your concern.”
“Not my concern?” Edgar said with a short laugh. “All of Silverhelm is my concern, Branford. Surely you see that now.”
“You hold a place on the court here,” Branford replied. “Silverhelm is a sovereign nation, and the only ones involved in the succession of the throne are my family.”
I could hear movement and the shuffling of feet, and I strained to hear better.
“Silverhelm will be mine, you know,” King Edgar said in a low voice. “It is only a matter of time.”
“I am tiring of your threats,” Branford responded. He had managed to regain some of the control in his voice again. “We have done everything you have asked to maintain peace between our kingdoms. There is only so much one can give.”
“But there is always more I can take!” Edgar announced. His voice turned low. “And take I shall. You go ahead and hold out as long as you can, but when I am through with you, your pathetic kingdom will be under my control.”
I felt a shiver run through me, and I pushed my back up tighter against the inside wall of the stairs.
“If Silverhelm is so insignificant, why do you continue to demand more of me?”
Edgar cackled, and the high pitched sound made yet another shudder run up my spine. His voice deepened as he snarled out his words.
“Because there was once a man who thought he could live in my shadow and continue to look down upon me. He ignored his duty and refused to unite our lands for the greater good. Now his son tries to do the same? No. Not again.”
“What is this?” Branford’s voice rose slightly. “My father?”
Edgar’s bitter laugh filled the hall again.
“If you had spent more time studying in your youth than you did lying with your whores…but it does not matter now, does it? You have demonstrated quite affectively that common women cannot bear kings. You have two at your beck and call, but there is no decent place for your seed to find purchase, is there?”
“Hold your tongue.” Branford’s voice went soft and cold. “I will tolerate your threats and your insults only so far. Do not speak ill of my wife.”
“I am only stating fact, Sir Branford,” Edgar said. “Has she become with child since I was last here?”
There was a moment of silence between them.
“I did not think so.” Another cold snicker. “And your commoner concubine is also unable to carry your child, correct? It is obvious, and it is time you admitted it. These women cannot carry your child. You need a royal woman for your seed.”
