Here, in Wolfric's castle, she lived a very similar life. True, she didn't help with the war effort; they weren't naive enough to trust her with this task, but she did follow their plan and schedule for her days and nights.
So why did she find herself so often lost in despondent thoughts?
Bethany looked up as she heard heavy, familiar footsteps descend the long hallway toward her room just as a new idea took shape in her mind. It was worse here because she had no future to dream about. At home, safely amongst her family, she could dream of a handsome man saving her from the tedium of life as a princess. Now, a handsome prince had stolen her from her family and forced her into a life worse than that of a princess. She did everything she had done back home, but now she had no future to wait upon. Her path was set, and it was darker than the deepest ocean.
“Enter,” she said as she quickly wiped her cheeks to be sure they were dry before her visitor could pound on her door.
The door creaked open to reveal Sir Caldry, just as she had expected. His brows were pulled up towards his hair line in surprise.
“I must not be as quiet as I used to be,” he said by way of a greeting.
Bethany bowed her head in response.
“The prince has asked for you.”
Bethany set her book on the table, not taking the time to mark her spot in it. Like everything else in her life, it was simply a way of forcing the sun to hurry in its journey across the sky. She rose, retrieved her cloak from a peg beside the door, and followed the knight out of her prison.
They walked in silence, stopping at the main entrance to the great hall. Just as they arrived, Féderic ran up the steps, taking them two at a time. He stopped by her side, his chest rising and falling faster than normal.
Once he caught his breath, he panted, “I'm afraid… I have… to cancel our plans... my dear.”
Bethany racked her brains, trying to remember what plans they had had, but, as usual, these were plans that the prince had made without consulting her. She curtsied and turned to return to her room, without saying a word.
“Wait! Bethany!” Féderic jogged to her side and took hold of her shoulder. “I'm sorry. I wanted to take you riding today, but father has found a chore for me.” After a moment's thought, he added, “I'll have Cal here take you riding. You spend too much time locked up in that room. Cal?”
Bethany glanced up at the knight and spotted the muscles in his jaw ripple as he ground his teeth together. He wanted to be in her company less than she wanted to be in his, and for some reason this idea made her stomach turn.
Perhaps it is just my old ego rearing its ugly head, she thought as she nodded absently to Féderic, who was still waiting for a response.
The prince finally pulled his gaze away from Bethany and looked at the knight, who still hadn’t responded. “Cal?”
“I have some free time, my lord.”
“Excellent!” exclaimed the prince, oblivious to the emotions surging through his companions. “I'll see you at dinner, my love.” Féderic kissed her on the cheek just as the king began bellowing for his presence.
Bethany forced her eyes up to the knight's face, though she didn't want to see the disgust still playing in his light green eyes. Whether he intended it or not, his eyes could express fountains of emotions in a single glance, and yet she still felt so confused by him. She wanted to ask him what had happened, how he had discovered her identity, but his face was quickly closing down until all his personality was hidden behind a dark mask.
“This way, my lady,” he said in a formal voice.
“Thank you, Sir Caldry,” Bethany responded, matching his voice, note for note.
She followed him to the stables, where they asked for a pair of horses. Strangely enough, the stable hand looked frightened at the idea of fulfilling their request. A few minutes later, which were spent in silence, a pair of stable hands returned with two horses. The new stable hand was leading a large, flat-brown horse in the most awkward way, as though he thought the horse might morph into a monster and bite him. As they walked, he glared at the first stable hand. The brown horse was handed over to Sir Caldry and, with a great look of relief, the stable hand scurried away as fast as possible.
The knight tied his horse to a ring before approaching Bethany to lift her into the woman's saddle. Bethany tensed as his strong hands took hold of her narrow waist. He hoisted her up onto the tiny mare without even the slightest effort. She felt small and fragile in his grasp and was grateful when the contact ended.
The first stable hand bolted the minute Bethany’s hands grazed the reigns. Clearly, neither of them wanted to be near the knight, or was it his horse? It certainly was large. She felt dwarfed next to it on her delicate mare. In fact, she had to look up to see the knight's face once he had mounted it.
She followed him out of the castle, the first spurt of curiosity causing her heart to beat faster. Other than the horrific parade through the city, she had spent very little time outside the castle since her arrival six months ago.
The guards at the gatehouse bowed and stepped out of their way. Finally, with a sense of release, they were in the city itself. It proved to be unchanged from her last venture through it: a complete hodge-podge of buildings with no flow or pattern. At least this time no one was howling or throwing things at her.
They rode for nearly half an hour before either of them spoke.
“Are you enjoying your new life?” asked the knight.
Bethany glanced at him. His face was still the perfect mask, hiding whatever thoughts or emotions that prompted him to speak.
“Are you making conversation for the sake of conversation?” asked Bethany.
“That is not an answer.”
“Observant,” she commented, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth on its own accord.
“Are you refusing to answer?”
“Yes. Besides, I think you are simply asking out of boredom, no real desire to know anything about me.” Bethany forced her voice to stay calm. She didn't want the knight to know how much he confused and vexed her.
“In that case, I will remain silent.”
A few minutes later, after she began shivering from the winter cold, he turned them back towards the castle. After depositing their horses in the stables, he escorted her back to her room and left her.
Bethany stomped to the fire's edge, angry and frustrated. Why couldn't he be like he had been when she stayed in his room? Remembering those days brought a blush to her cheeks. She would be thrilled to know that he had completely forgotten about her residence in his room, and yet she wanted him to act as he had during that time.
Bethany jerked her cloak off and tossed it towards the door and its peg in frustration.
Nothing made sense, especially her own feelings.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Bethany had just finished donning her warmest dress and snatching up her recently knitted mittens, when the door swung open to reveal Sir Caldry and Prince Féderic. The prince offered his arm and escorted her from the room, leaving the knight to follow.
Surprisingly, Bethany was previously informed of the day’s activities and was able to dress appropriately. Today they would be ice-skating, an activity Bethany had never attempted. Though Dothan, her home town, got cold enough to freeze water, they had no ponds small or shallow enough to allow for ice skating. She had heard of it, of course.
For the first time since she destroyed the alcohol at the banquet, her heart beat fast with anticipation, rather than dread.
The three of them met Féderic's siblings and a few of the younger knights at the entrance to the great hall. In a large group, they descended the steps where a large wagon and a small herd of horses and guards waited. The men mounted their horses, while the ladies ascended the wagon. It was to be driven by Sir Caldry so that he could remain close to Bethany, in case of an attack. Bethany rolled her eyes as she settled onto the front bench with the knight. Her annoyance at the situation helped her i
gnore Mirabelle's poisonous glare.
They rode out of the city and into the surrounding wilderness. Mirabelle, and the ladies-in-waiting she had chosen to attend her, chattered energetically, pointedly leaving Sir Caldry and Bethany out of the conversation. Finally, after Bethany was ready to slap the silliness out of the ladies sitting behind her, they stopped in a small valley with a circular lake that came up to the edge of the valley. Bethany could only tell the difference between lake and land by the lake's lack of large mounds, which she took for bushes covered in snow.
The guards dismounted and, taking brooms from their saddles, began sweeping away the newest layer of snow from the ice. By the time they finished, Bethany was shivering in her seat and quickly losing interest in the day's activities. She was almost tempted to scoot closer to the knight to steal a little body heat, but one look at his face stopped her.
Finally, Féderic approached her with a pair of sharp looking blades attached to what looked like shoe soles. Without asking, he flipped her thick skirts up to reveal her tall, fur-lined boots. With straps of strong leather he attached the skates to her feet. Once this was done, the prince reached up and lifted her from her seat. To her relief, the snow helped keep her upright on the narrow blades. She waited for Féderic to attach his own skates, too unsteady to venture away from him. When he had finished, he took her by the hand and they carefully walked to the edge of lake.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Not even a little bit.”
Bethany didn't look at him. His presence might have been necessary for her to stay upright, but that didn't mean she was enjoying his company.
“C’mon. I won't let you fall.” With that, Féderic glanced over his shoulders to see the others following them onto the frozen lake. “Cal, join us!”
It was worded in just the right way as to be more than a suggestion, but less than a command. Bethany looked back to see how the knight would take the directive. She saw his shoulders slump ever-so-slightly before he climbed off the wagon and donned the last pair of skates.
With this final alteration, the group took the first, all important step onto the ice. The knights and ladies-in-waiting glided away smoothly, happy to flirt and dance around the ice, far away from the royalty. Sir Caldry stayed close to Bethany and Féderic for obvious reasons, but Bethany couldn't comprehend why Mirabelle had abandoned her friends.
Bethany felt her stomach give an uncomfortable twist as her nerves went into high gear. Thoughts of toppling over were the least of her concerns. Images of falling through the ice and being sucked into the frigid abyss of the lake flooded her mind and made it difficult for her to listen to Féderic's patient instructions.
Mirabelle skated around the small group, often gliding effortlessly in front of Bethany, forcing her to stop suddenly. The first time this happened, Bethany over-corrected and ended up tumbling backwards into Sir Caldry's waiting arms.
Bethany glanced up at the scarred man, wondering if he had been prepared for just such an incident.
“Oh, little Bethany, you're not as graceful as you led us all to believe,” chortled Mirabelle.
“Little?” Bethany asked as she nodded her thanks to the knight in as regal a manner as she could manage. “I suppose considering your girth, I would be thought of as little. But don't forget, I am, after all, two years your elder.” And with that, she skated away, forcing her movements to be smooth and steady.
Féderic had said being confident was the secret to success on ice-skates, and now she was proving him right. Sadly the effect was lost on her audience when she hit a patch of rougher ice and fell face first. She saved herself from a broken nose by the sheer luck of her hands hitting the ice first. Still, it hurt and the following laughter didn't help. Bethany rolled over, the breath knocked out of her lungs.
Even in her stunned state, she noticed that Féderic wasn't laughing. In fact, he was skating as fast as he could across the pond. He skidded to her side, closely followed by Sir Caldry, who's scarred face was blank of all emotion, though it did seem a little whiter than normal.
“Bethany!” Féderic gasped as he slid to his knees at her side.
“I'm fine.” Bethany sat up with some effort; she felt as though a horse had landed on her.
Why must ice be so hard? Through sheer force of will and a complete unwillingness to let Mirabelle have the last laugh, she forced herself back on her feet.
The rest of the day was a new form of torture for Bethany. No matter how many times she fell, she always climbed back to her feet. She improved slowly, but that didn't mean she grew to enjoy the activity. Even though she was no longer falling every few feet, her ankles ached with the effort of staying up on the thin blades, and her bruised body throbbed with each heartbeat.
When she was beginning to wonder if she could continue, Sir Caldry spoke aloud for the first time. “The sun is going down. We need to head back before the roads become impassible.”
Bethany nearly cried out in relief, but to her astonishment, the group began arguing. She stayed out of it, hoping the knight would stand firm. As she expected, he did, but Mirabelle took to a new tactic.
“I'm sure Sir Caldry just wants to end it for Bethany's sake. She looks as though the slightest puff of wind would blow her over, and the knight has been pining over her ever since she was your slave, Féderic!”
The prince glanced towards Bethany, his expression a mixture of concern and distrust. To Bethany's astonishment, a small part of him believed his sister’s accusation. She didn't care to make him feel more comfortable. This engagement was not formed by mutual consent. Still, she also didn't want anyone to think there was anything between her and the cruel knight. Bethany didn't know what to do or say.
Thankfully, the knight produced the perfect response: He burst into heartfelt laughter.
Bethany felt her stomach tighten, and her face pucker into a glare. She knew this was the exact opposite of how she should be responding, but his laughter rankled her sense of beauty. Before, when she lived with her family, being loved and admired was her first goal; now, as her sense of security slowly returned, her need to be admired began to increase. Yet here was a grown man, openly laughing at the idea of finding her attractive.
“Her?” he asked when he finally caught his breath. “I've... seen her... naked! There's nothing there to admire! If you want to stay, fine, but I'm taking the wagon back up the mountain. Anyone who wants a ride better hurry up.”
Bethany felt her glare freeze on her features. Had he really just said that or had she imagined it? A blush rose on her cheeks until her skin burned and her breath came in frantic little gasps. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. With the deepening of her blush, a rage grew. Bethany thought she knew what hatred felt like, having spent many months as a slave, but now she knew she had only dipped a toe in the mire of true loathing. After the knight's statement, she dove in head first.
The others joined Sir Caldry in his laughter, as they reluctantly followed him back to the wagon and the waiting horses. Oddly enough, the only one that seemed to notice the princess, still standing in the middle of the pond, was the knight. Instead of calling to her, he caught Féderic's attention and pointed in her direction.
The prince had the discernment to skate out to her, rather than call her by name.
“C’mon, Bethany. Don't mind the knight. He likes nothing but whores. Besides, it shouldn't matter what he thinks. I love you!” Féderic said as though that should be sufficient.
Bethany was thoroughly aware of the fact her fiancé didn't object to the fact the knight had humiliated her, but rather to the idea that she cared what another man thought of her. He was more worried that she like him, and only him, rather than that she was hurt and embarrassed.
Reluctantly, Bethany climbed onto the bench beside Sir Caldry and allowed Féderic to remove her skates. She hoped he would not force her to repeat this awful excursion again.
When they entered the noisy city, Sir Caldry scooted closer
to her and spoke lowly. So low in fact, Bethany at first wondered if she had imagined it.
“I had to say that. It was the only way to make them believe me.”
Bethany didn't respond. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the knight open his mouth again, as though he wanted to say more, but he shut it and remained silent for the rest of their journey.
She tried, and failed, to wipe the tears from her cheeks without him noticing.
Chapter Fifty
Bethany sat near the fire, happily stitching away on her newest gown, made specifically for the upcoming banquet. If she ignored the fact that the banquet was to announce her engagement to Féderic, she was very happy to attend. The new dress was made by the seamstress in the latest style to make a speedy rampage through the wealthy city. It had a stiff neckline that wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl, leaving her collar bones bare to the world. The sleeves opened drastically at the elbows rather then gradually widening from the shoulders. It was in a brilliant red color that would attract everyone's notice. Bethany couldn't wait to wear it before this foreign court. She would show them the true beauty of Dothan!
Thankfully, she had convinced the queen and the seamstress to allow her the pleasure of doing the finishing details on the gown. Partly it was for her own entertainment, but mostly it was because the seamstress was useless. Bethany would have sacked her years ago.
To her annoyance, her door swung open, and Féderic entered with a wooden box tucked under one arm. He smiled at her with a look she was beginning to recognize as Féderic in his happiest mood; he was determined to make this an agreeable encounter.
Bethany set the dress aside, rose, and curtsied. A weariness was settling in on her; she didn't want to fight with Féderic or anyone else, except maybe Mirabelle. Bethany simply wanted to be left alone and in peace. It seemed the most she could ask for in her current situation.
“You're looking lovely today,” Féderic stated as he ravaged her with his eyes.
The Dothan Chronicles: The Complete Trilogy Page 26
