Valerie nodded, her mouth too full to speak. It made sense. Poor Uncle Richard had held on for over a year after the war officially ended, but ultimately his wounds were too severe. Valerie missed Uncle Richard, but knew he was much better off now than how he had come home.
Valerie looked down and saw that the handkerchief was empty. She swallowed and licked her lips. She noticed Lord Wilmont across the room. He seemed to be looking for someone until he spotted her and started heading over,
“Is it too early to say good night, do you think?” Jeanna asked, suddenly.
Valerie smiled. “I was just about to ask the same thing.”
“Come on then. Let’s look in on Daniel and then have a hot drink by my fire before bed.” She held her elbow out and Valerie looped her arm around it.
They nodded good night to the people they passed, and exited by a smaller, less obvious door than they had arrived by. Valerie glanced back as they exited and saw Lord Wilmont standing where they had just been, looking very confused. Valerie smiled. On one hand, it was nice than someone wanted to talk to her. On the other, she would have to wear another stuffy dress for the coronation the next day, so she wanted to get out of her current uncomfortable dress and have a hot drink with Jeanna.
Chapter Three
In the days that followed the ball and coronation, Valerie saw Lord Wilmont only in the evenings. He and his father stayed on with other nobles from neighbouring countries to discuss the various treaties and trade arrangements each had with Mor. Few of the rulers or princes from any of the other countries had been able to attend with such a lack of notice, but Valerie knew they would have sent someone to conduct business for them.
During the day, she trained with the other knights. Then she would race to the castle to bathe and get ready for some kind of dinner or gathering, letting Jeanna choose her dress and direct the style of her hair. At said dinner or gathering, she would try to avoid Lord Wilmont, though she failed often. It was the same this eve.
“You look lovely this evening, Princess Valerie.” Wilmont kissed her hand. He seemed to have been waiting for her right inside the door to the dining hall.
She tried very hard not to growl at him, and smiled as pleasantly as she could. “Thank you. Only due to Prin…Queen Jeanna’s tireless efforts, I assure you.” It felt like she would never get used to calling them by their new titles now they actually had them.
“Surely only because she has such a canvas to work with.” He smiled and she tried not to vomit on him. Behind him, she saw Jonathan’s face was somehow a mixture of utter glee and stony indifference. “May I walk you to your seat, Princess?”
Valerie nodded and put her hand on his proffered arm. They walked past her usual seat with her fellow trainee knights. Stupid deWynstryngham acknowledged her with a nod of the head and a polite smile. Stuck next to Lord Wilmont, Valerie thought stupid deWynstryngham looked very dashing indeed.
It is a sad day when I start admiring him! Valerie thought to herself, nodding and smiling at whatever Lord Wilmont had said.
Valerie desperately wanted to be in her trousers, sitting with the other trainees. Even though they mostly ignored her, she found that seat preferable to the one her father was making her sit in that week.
Henry had decided that Valerie would sit next to him and the other members of the Privy Council at the head table. Not only was this the table the King and Queen presided over, it was also raised on a dais and faced the rest of the room so everyone could see when she spilled food or drink down her front. After the first two nights, Jeanna had only put her in darker colours in an effort to hide this.
“Ah, Lord Wilmont. How are you this evening?” Her father shook Wilmont’s hand as they approached the table.
Valerie looked at him askance, wondering why he sounded so formal but as though he was trying to be very casual. Henry smiled at her and kissed her cheek, taking her hand from Wilmont and helping her onto the dais. This was just as well, as she had tripped previous nights with no help. Valerie lowered herself onto her chair somewhat awkwardly due to the boning of her bodice.
“Very well. Thank you, Duke.” Wilmont bowed, still staring at Valerie.
She shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, wondering why in the world she had let Jeanna talk her into tonight’s outfit. She was wearing a pale blue dress, which sparkled with what looked like diamond dust. She glittered and shone like some kind of holiday bauble when the lights caught her at the right angle. The neckline was bordering on scandalous, and there were only cap sleeves. The bodice hugged her body down to her hips, where the skirt swirled out like an upside-down lily.
“Valerie looks splendid tonight, does she not?” her father asked, sounding less cavalier.
“Radiant.” Wilmont’s smile looked more like a smirk, and Valerie was sure he was no longer looking at her face.
There was a brief call from a horn and Wilmont retreated to his assigned seat, bowing again before leaving. Thankfully his chair was on the other side of the hall and Valerie would not be able to see him, even if she knew he could see her. Her father sat down and smiled at her as though he wanted to ask her a question.
“What?” Valerie smoothed her dress, feeling foolish.
“Lord Wilmont will be leaving tomorrow.”
Valerie wanted to say ‘thank God’ but felt it was not the right response.
“It will be a shame when all the nobles have left. It’s been a nice change of pace this last week.”
Her father looked surprised and smiled. “Really? I thought you would have hated it.”
Valerie had the sudden feeling that she had caught herself in a trap. Obviously being polite had not been the right choice in this circumstance. Her father looked very hopeful by her words and she was terrified at the reason.
“Well…actually–”
“Lord Wilmont was hoping that you and I might visit him and his father soon,” he interrupted.
“Um…” Valerie had no clever or polite answer to that, so she blurted out, “Why?”
His face fell a little. “Have you not enjoyed spending time with Lord Wilmont?”
Valerie thought this was a very odd question. Lord Wilmont seemed nice enough, but she could not say that they had really had much of a chance to talk. He complimented her an awful lot which was sort of nice, but it had also begun to sound very shallow and bordering on false. There had been a lot of dancing going on in the past week, but like all the other men in her life – besides her father – he had asked most every girl but her. He seemed to have some kind of interest in her sometimes, and others he did not.
“He is…tolerable…” Valerie said slowly, choosing her words carefully. She was slightly distracted by the food now being brought in.
Her father scowled. “You’ve spent all this time with him and you think he’s merely tolerable?” He rubbed his temple. “He thinks very highly of you, you know.”
“I think you’re under the misapprehension I know what you’re getting at,” Valerie said, leaving all politeness and pretence aside.
Henry sighed. “Never mind.” He nodded to the servant offering him wine. “We shall talk about it later.”
Valerie very much did not want to talk about it later. Though she had feigned stupidity, she had an inkling where her father was going with his talk and she wanted no part of it. A part of her might have been becoming interested in the idea of marriage and children one day, she was not interested in any of that any time soon, nor with Lord Wilmont.
She ate her dinner in silence, somewhat lulled by the sound of her father’s voice even though she was angry with him and was not listening to the actual words. Jonathan played a few times during the night, and he managed to get a few moments to come and talk to her.
“Valerie, that’s not your dress, is it?” he asked, during one of his breaks.
Valerie huffed. “You know it isn’t, Jon. It’s one of Jeanna’s. I think she got it from some king or someth
ing on a visit, but has never worn it. I feel like some kind of drooping flower or icicle.” She played with the wisps of skirt.
“Well, I think you look very nice.” He put his hand under her chin and lifted it to smile at her. “Cheer up. This is the last night of revelry and then we can go back to our normal lives. You can stay in your training gear and put on demonstrations with the other trainees over dinner.” He looked backwards and Valerie’s eye was drawn to where stupid deWynstryngham and the others were showing off. She huffed again, annoyed she had not noticed earlier and more annoyed Jonathan had pointed it out to her.
“Please don’t give her ideas, Jon.” Henry leaned over, but he was smiling and squeezed her arm tenderly.
She was still grumpy with him but she smiled back.
“I had best go, they’ll want something more lively now dessert has finished.” He kissed her hand, nodded to her father and loped back to his master. Not that loped adequately described his movements; he was always much more graceful than that.
“Well, I suppose I will head to bed.” Valerie stood up.
Her father stood also and took her elbow. “Why don’t you stay and talk to some of the nobles before you go.”
Valerie felt like pointing out that he actually only seemed to want her to talk to one, but she smiled – though somewhat strained – and followed him to the crowd of nobles gathering in the middle of the hall.
The large space between the long trestles was usually reserved for acrobats or magicians or other entertainers, and it was where Jonathan and Hugh usually played during dinner. However, with the greater number of nobles staying, the middle section had been left so that people could get up and talk or dance if they wished. Valerie reached back and picked up her goblet as she spied a jug on the table in front of her. She went to pick it up, but it was empty. A servant was in front of her with a full jug before she had thought to look around for another one. She smiled and thanked him.
Stupid deWynstryngham appeared and held a goblet out to be refilled.
“You look nice,” he said, though it sounded rather forced. “You’ll be glad to be back in trousers tomorrow. No more fancy dinners or seats at the King’s table.”
“No, thank goodness.” She caught herself as he turned to look at her. He smiled somewhat genuinely.
“You must be the only girl in the world who hates pretty dresses and parties.”
“You’ve seen me like this,” she indicated her hair and dress, “and you’ve seen me in training. Where would you say I belong?”
“Despite your skill with a weapon, my lady, I don’t know that you completely belong in either.” For once he did not sound condescending, only thoughtful. He took a drink, nodded and said, “Excuse me,” before walking away. Valerie could not be sure if she was excusing his words or his departure.
“Princess,” the familiar voice of Lord Wilmont said from behind her and she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She repressed a scream of frustration and turned around, almost sploshing wine on her dress. She curtsied.
“Lord Wilmont. I hear you are leaving us tomorrow.”
“Yes, though I will be sad to go. However, my father insists we return home. I hope you will visit us soon.” He smiled. He slurred his words and sounded like he had to concentrate very hard on what he was trying to say.
“I’m sure my training would not allow that for some time,” Valerie replied.
“Ah yes. You are to be a knight, I hear!” She nodded. “Surely you do not actually want to be a knight.” He laughed as though it was a preposterous notion and Valerie resisted the urge to hit him.
deWynstryngham was nearby and must have heard for even he scowled at Lord Wilmont’s words. He looked at Valerie and asked a silent question. Valerie thought she understood and, though she appreciated her fellow trainee’s willingness to speak up for her, she shook her head. deWynstryngham nodded and turned back to his conversation.
“I assure you, I do. My captain thinks me quite suited to it.”
“The trade of a lady-in-waiting isn’t that hard to pick up, surely,” he said, though quietly as though to himself.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Sorry? Nothing.” He smiled and swayed slightly. “I doubt I will see you tomorrow as we leave very early. I shall have to be up before dawn.”
“What a shame.” Valerie rolled her eyes. She knew a lot about being up before dawn.
“Do you think so?” he asked, almost leering at her.
“I–”
She could not say anymore and he had crushed his mouth to hers.
She pulled back, utterly outraged. She could feel the blood surging to her cheeks and not just from embarrassment either. She heard a crash and felt a pain in her fist. She blinked and realised she had thrown her goblet to the floor and punched Lord Wilmont right in the nose. He looked up at her, stunned and bleeding, and slightly cross-eyed.
It was then she realised that everyone else was staring at her too. She looked down and saw the deep purple of the wine strewn across the side of her dress and heard an awkward cough.
Without a word, she turned and ran as best as her skirts would let her. She heard Jonathan, Edmond and her father all call out to her.
She ran to her father’s courtyard, and only slowed down to allow the guards time to open the doors for her. It was not until she sat down on the seat dedicated to her mother that she felt the tears flowing down her face.
****
Though they had called out to her, no one had followed her out of the dining hall.
Valerie had sat on her mother’s bench for a while, letting her heart and breathing calm, before getting up and making her way to her bed. Halfway to her usual room among the other trainees in the training barracks, Valerie decided to change course and made her way to what she called her Princess Rooms. Valerie was not convinced she needed two bedrooms but, when she had moved into the training barracks, it had been decided her old rooms would stay hers as well.
The rooms were comprised of four areas, the bedroom, the sitting room, the bathing room and the dressing room – though that was looking rather bare at present.
She had fallen asleep, fully clothed and still made up, on top of the blankets of her Princess bed. The only light was from the moon shining through the window. It cast an ethereal glow around the room and created many shadows.
She sat up now, not knowing what the time was, and her previously well-coifed hair fell about her shoulders. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. From the corner of the room, she heard a noise. She jumped and reached for her blade, but of course it was not there. She looked around for another weapon and picked up the only thing that would make do – her candlestick.
She edged towards the corner, barely able to see, the candlestick raised above her head. As she edged closer, her foot hit something and she jumped back.
“Oof…” said a voice and she swung the candlestick wildly. “Ouch! Valerie, what are you doing?” Jonathan yelped.
Valerie released a breath she had not realised she had been holding. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, dropping her arm, but not releasing the candlestick.
“Making sure you’re all right. What else would I be doing?” He sounded half-asleep.
“It’s the middle of the night! How did you get in?”
“Henry told the guards to let me stay. We looked for you in your training quarters but, not finding you there, we tried here. Good lord, what did you hit me with?”
“Candlestick.” She held out the offending item and felt him take it.
There was a spark and the wick ignited. Valerie blinked against the sudden brightness. Jonathan must have put the flint away before her vision cleared as, next she knew, he was holding the light up to her face and peering at her.
“God, you look a fright!”
She touched her hair. “You don’t look much better, thank you.”
He looked down at himself. His satin
was all crumpled, his hat had fallen off and his hair stood on end. “Probably not. Come here and I’ll sort your hair.” He nodded towards her dressing table and she followed him.
She sat at the stool and he stood behind her, sifting through her hair for all the pins. Many of them had become matted and her hair was tangled. He grunted occasionally when he encountered a particularly stubborn pin, but otherwise worked in silence and Valerie was happy enough watching him work. His fingers moved quickly, nimble from his years of learning the lute, and despite the low light he was meticulous. Valerie had always envied his vision.
After a while, he picked up a brush and began pulling it through her hair. It snagged a lot, but she knew he was being as careful as possible. His head dipped now and then as he leaned in closer, his light brown curls shining in patches from the candlelight. His hands grazed the back of her neck, they were rough but not unpleasant and it sent little chills up her spine.
Once Jonathan was able to pull the brush through her hair with no tangles, he began to plait it and then tied it off. It was not the first time he had undone her hair and helped her ready for bed during their lifetime, and he knew what she found comfortable.
“Come on then. Dress.” He took her hand and helped her up.
She looked down, seeing the wine stain and remembering all the details that lead her to her Princess Room. Her eyes started to burn. She breathed in deeply and looked upward, hoping to stay the tears. Jonathan had started undoing the ties on the back of the dress. Feeling her breath in, he put his hands on her arms and leant over her shoulder, leaning his head against hers.
“It’s all right. Let’s get you changed and into bed. Then if you want, we can talk about it.” She nodded and he squeezed her arms before going back to the ties.
He pulled the lacing open quickly and helped her step out of the pile of cloth now on the floor. She shivered a little, standing in her shift, her midriff a bit colder out of the layers of cloth. He looked at her, waited for her to smile then squeezed her hand before picking up the dress from the floor and bundling it over his arm.
Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1) Page 3