Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  Valerie’s night disappeared into a whirlwind of dance partners, wine and cakes. She danced with her father a few times, Jonathan a few times more, deWynstryngham made quite a few appearances, and she could not seem to get away from Wilmont – who Valerie felt became more and more disconcerting as the night wore on.

  When Valerie finally flopped onto her princess bed that night – her hair blessedly free – the night seemed to have passed in a blur of faces and talk. Her head span somewhat and she felt the urge to giggle one minute, then frown the next.

  Five faces stood out in her mind.

  There was her father; solemn, regal, earnestly discussing goodness knew what with this noble and that. The only time he had smiled was when he danced with Valerie. She felt his eyes had not glossed over so often that night as though he wanted to spend more time in the present with her than with memories of her mother.

  Lord Wilmont’s was next. Vile, pompous arse. Speaking of arses, Valerie was quite sure he had tried to touch hers multiple times that night. She considered it a sign of her maturity and decorum that his nose was not broken again.

  Dear, familiar Jonathan’s face was there. His light brown hair, the curls for once tamed, soft and bouncy. His dark brown eyes, always so focussed on her. He was always there when she needed him, no matter how far away he had seemed moments ago.

  Poor, sweet Jeanna’s face seemed etched in her mind as grief-stricken and worn. Valerie felt as though her heart were breaking every time she saw Jeanna. It was as though her tears had seared permanent hollows down her face.

  She finally fell asleep with deWynstryngham’s face on her mind. His handsome, chiselled jaw, his flashing blue eyes, and his wavy blonde hair. It had felt like he had smiled at her all night, and she was sure he had winked at her as he was leaving.

  deWynstryngham…maybe not so stupid after all…

  Chapter Six

  The next month was grand. Valerie trained with her troupe and seemed to improve even more. deWynstryngham was kind to her and she flirted with the idea he might even have feelings for her. Though, she was not sure if she had feelings for him or not. He was certainly handsome though, and a gentleman, and treated her as an equal on and off the training ground.

  The other trainees treated her with more respect than they had previously. Valerie first thought this was due to her rise in status, but Gillam believed they were actually just taking her more seriously with the knowledge she would rather be one of them than a ‘stuffy princess’.

  Sir Gillam gathered the trainees around one afternoon and indicated they take a knee.

  “As you all know – lord knows we’ve heard about it enough – it is Lord deWynstryngham’s eighteenth birthday this week.”

  The men ‘hurrahed’ and patted deWynstryngham on the back.

  The next week, deWynstryngham was holding a dance at his parents’ estate and he had asked Valerie to accompany him. She was looking forward to it, and held high hopes that her dress would be just as beautiful as the one for her father’s ball.

  “Yes, yes. Hurrah,” Gillam continued, waving his hand for quiet. “It has been decided that, in this circumstance, the usual time for graduation would be waived and deWynstryngham will be promoted to Senior Corps the day after his birthday.”

  There was a great cheer from the men this time, but Valerie’s heart and stomach fell. She had been dreading this day, for she guessed that she would not be promoted early, let alone if her father and the Council allowed her promotion at all.

  “In light of the good news, and given you will all be rubbish now, you can have the afternoon off.” The men began to exclaim in excitement, but Gillam held up a hand for silence. “However, I would look favourably upon any trainee who decided to put that time in wrestling or free-training.” He smiled as the men ran off and began jostling one another.

  Valerie stood, dejected, not sure if she wanted to pummel a training dummy or go to bed.

  “What’s the matter?” Gillam asked, though he looked at her as though he knew.

  “I won’t be promoted early on my birthday.”

  “Ah, now…” Gillam fidgeted. “We don’t know that, Val.”

  “We do know that, Gillam. All the other trainees will be promoted on their birthdays, or at the end of June. While, I will have to wait and see if I get promoted at all.”

  Gillam put a hand on her shoulder. “I know how much you wanted to be a knight, Valerie. But fact is, things have changed.”

  “Father was a knight when he was younger. He only isn’t now because they gave him a position on the Privy Council.”

  “That as may be. But you are the last Mor in line for the throne… Until you have babies.” He coughed and Valerie cringed. “Unless you want to risk giving the throne to a foreigner, we have to keep you protected. Not to mention all the political training you will have to catch up on now.”

  Valerie sighed. Plotting had begun on how she could convince her father to let her stay on in the Senior Corps.

  “Is there no chance?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t say there’s no chance. You know your father will let you if he can.”

  Valerie nodded, knowing he was right. Henry loved her more than anything, and knew how much being a knight meant to her. She did know, full well, that he would do anything and everything to let her join the Senior Corps and be a full-fledged knight…if he was able.

  Valerie turned to watch the men spar – she found calling them ‘men’ made them sound old, but calling them ‘boys’ did not seem right anymore either.

  As she watched, and deWynstryngham smiled at her, she found she was less excited about his dance now. Her life seemed tinged with an air of uncertainty and doubt that she had never really experienced before. She worried she would not be part of the Senior Corps with her training mates, who actually seemed bordering on friends now. What would they think of her when she no longer served? When she finished her training and it would look to them like she had decided to become one of those ‘stuffy’ princesses after all?

  ****

  April rolled around and Valerie was still allowed to train. deWynstryngham’s ball had been much better than she anticipated. He had danced with her most of the night and, when he fulfilled his obligation to dance with another, one of the other trainees asked her to dance. She had never known that Lord Rutherford was such a good dancer. On the training ground, he was all brute force and muscle.

  Her father had, on numerous occasions now, asked her if deWynstryngham were courting her. She could only respond that they enjoyed spending time together and got along well. Which was all true. Dermot had proven himself a gentleman. The times they spent together out of training involved sparring – in plain view of others of course – or talking and often they spent their time with the other trainees and some of the other ladies from the court.

  Between that, training, her new politics lessons, and spending time with her father and Jonathan, the day of Valerie’s eighteenth birthday almost slid past without note. There was a ball – it was a lovely affair, but when was there not a ball these days? – but, the actual day almost went unnoticed until Jonathan knocked on her door one morning.

  She was still in bed, debating whether she could have five more minutes. She had to admit that her princess bed was much more comfortable than her barracks bed, but she still felt uncomfortable not being in among the others anymore; her father had ordered she move into her Princess Rooms, regardless of whether she continued her training. Henry had told her it was for her protection – like being around a hundred or so trained soldiers was not protection enough! – and Valerie had seen enough fear in his eyes to agree.

  “Valerie!”

  “Jonathan!’ she replied, sitting up and smiling. “It is a wonder who the guards will let into my room willy-nilly!”

  Jonathan did not smile. He stopped in the middle of the room, as though hesitant to come any closer. He rubbed his hands together and began pacin
g back and forth, stopping now and then as though he wanted to say something, but did not know how to begin. Valerie had seen him like this very few times in her life.

  “What is it?” she asked, but he still said nothing, just paced. “Oh, for goodness sake! Stop that and sit down.” She wriggled over to make space for him.

  He hesitated again, then rushed to sit down beside her. He looked at her, smiled almost sadly, then looked as though he would get up again. Valerie took his hand.

  “Are you in love? Getting married? Who is she?” she asked gently, trying to make a joke of it.

  Jonathan looked like she had slapped him in the face. “What?”

  “Only men in love look so forlorn.”

  He looked taken aback for a moment, but recovered. “So, deWynstryngham must look mighty forlorn these days,” he laughed.

  She scowled. “I do not know what you may be implying, Jonathan, but I have a mind to call the guards and have you forcibly removed from my room!”

  Jonathan looked smug. “They could try.”

  “Oh yes. The big bad minstrel will best two highly trained soldiers in the Royal Guard,” Valerie snorted, and Jonathan laughed.

  “No. I suppose a minstrel would not.” He squeezed her hand. “Listen, Val–”

  “You can marry whomever you like.” She smiled.

  “That is not quite… I’m not planning to marry anyone at present.”

  “Ah. But you are in love!” she squealed.

  “No… I’m… Look, I have to tell you something and, I know it’s not really the day for it… But…”

  “Oh? Oh, yes. I almost forgot!”

  “Happy birthday, your highness.” He kissed her cheek. “Not that we didn’t celebrate in excess and grandeur the other night.”

  She smiled, thinking of deWynstryngham’s arms around her. She shook her head and brought herself back to the present. “It was quite good…for a ball. Now what did you want to tell me?”

  Jonathan took a deep breath. “Hugh is leaving to go on a tour…”

  Valerie’s smile fell as she realised why he was acting so strangely. “And you will have to go with him.”

  He nodded and cupped her hands. “I don’t know how long we’ll be yet. But I’ll write when I can.”

  Valerie nodded. It was not the first time Jonathan had gone travelling with Hugh. How else was he to learn his master’s trade? She never liked it when he left, though. She was not sure if she missed his company, or was jealous of his apparent freedom. Maybe, too, it was that her father seemed to hover over her more with Jonathan gone. She knew she did not have many friends, but she did not think her father really needed to compensate Jonathan’s loss with his own company.

  “Do you know where you’re going yet?”

  Jonathan shook his head. “Hugh thinks we’ll move east first, but he has no real plans. He mentioned something about a royal party he thought we could play. Other than that, I think he’s just taking me out for a test run.”

  “That seems all very vague,” Valerie noted.

  He shrugged. “The life of a minstrel, I suppose. You go where you must, do what needs doing.”

  “But you and Hugh are supported by the court. You don’t need to travel.”

  Jonathan opened his mouth, then closed it again. He scrunched up his nose. “A minstrel is a free-spirit, a wanderer, who cannot be tamed or caged.”

  “You don’t believe a word of that,” Valerie said, putting a hand on his arm.

  He looked down at her hand. “I do. But I’m lucky to have a home and a family I miss when I’m gone. I still enjoy the freedom and seeing new sights, meeting new people. But I miss you and Henry, and my soft bed.”

  Valerie laughed aloud a he smiled. “All right. Be strange and mysterious, see if I care.” She nudged him. “But I will miss you too.”

  They sat in silence a few more minutes before he nudged her gently. “Come on, get up and get ready for training.”

  “Jonathan!”

  “Valerie.”

  “Do I have to go?”

  “Of course you do.”

  “But it’s my birthday.”

  “I know.”

  “And I can’t have the day off?”

  Jonathan looked up and sighed. “Valerie, have you learnt everything you need to learn in life?”

  Valerie was confused for a moment, but thought about his question. “No, I suppose not…” she replied slowly.

  “Then you have your answer.” He stood up and headed for the door.

  “So that’s a no to having the day off then?” she called.

  All she heard was his laugh as the door closed behind him. She sighed and got ready for training.

  ****

  With Jonathan away and the rate of all forms of education increased, Valerie had very little time for sitting back and watching the world go by. And so, it was she found herself being woken one morning by her father carrying a small cake.

  “Why cake?” she asked, pulling on her robe.

  “Two reasons,” he replied, putting it down on her small table. He indicated she sit down and he took the other chair.

  “And what are those two reasons?” she asked.

  “The first is because today is your last day in the Junior Corps.”

  A spread of warmth enveloped Valerie. She had been waiting for this day for four years. Well, no. She had been waiting for this day since she was eight years old and she had found out women could join the Junior Corps. Valerie’s smile started to fade as she wondered what the second reason was. Could she be so bold as to hope that her father wanted to celebrate her moving up to the Senior Corps with her fellows?

  “And the second…” Valerie asked, realising the cake was her favourite flavour.

  He father sighed. He had been more distant this year and she found him harder to talk to than he used to be. He seemed so tired and his hair looked more grey than she remembered. She was about to ask if he was all right when he spoke.

  “I will admit, the second reason is because I was hoping to soften you up a bit…”

  “Da… What do you mean?”

  He looked at her, his face pained. “You will not be moving up to the Senior Corps, Val. I’m so very sorry.”

  He looked as though he were about to cry, which was a sight more dignified than Valerie, who plummeted onto the chair and the tears began to flow. He father sat in silence with her for a moment. She managed to gain some composure, reducing her crying to sniffles and silent tears. She looked up at him, wanting to be angry, but his face showed he was as heartbroken as she felt.

  “But why?” she whispered.

  Her father leant across and took her hand. “The Privy Council think you should pursue activities more…” he hesitated and she nodded, knowing what he was going to say.

  “More suited to a proper crown princess,” she said.

  He nodded. “I tried to tell them that joining the knights was as good for the country as it was for you, but they said that’s what your husband is for.”

  “My what?” Valerie’s heart dropped.

  He father pushed the cake closer to her, something he used to do to distract and comfort her during bad news.

  “They have decided you must marry and conceive an heir at the earliest possibility.”

  Valerie almost dropped the piece of cake she was about to eat. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “They feel that after the business with…Edmond that we need to ensure a safe succession for the throne. If you and I die, the throne falls into a foreigner’s hands and the Council will not allow that.”

  “Blast the Council!” Valerie stood up, almost knocking her chair over. “How soon is the ‘earliest possibility’? What if my child dies as well? How far will the succession need to be secured for them to be happy?”

  “Val, take a breath, have some cake.” Her father guided her back to her seat.

  Valerie tried to take deep brea
ths, but her heart was racing and she felt the need to either run away or hit something. She picked up a piece of cake and chewed on it. Pieces of berries burst in her mouth and she felt her heart begin to slow.

  “I believe their preference is by Yuletide.”

  “What? How am I supposed to meet someone, fall in love, marry them and fall pregnant in the next six months?”

  “I’m not sure that love is what they had in mind…”

  “What… What did they have in mind, Da?”

  Her father hesitated, looking at her as though he really did not want to answer her.

  “God, what is it?”

  “They believe…Lord Wilmont would be a suitable candidate and Millet has said as much to Wilmont and his father.”

  Valerie sat, dumbfounded.

  “I have tried to talk them out of it, tried to explain you don’t need a man’s protection, especially if they let you go on to the Senior Corps. But they won’t have it. They refuse to acknowledge a woman can do anything but sew and draw and look pretty. It was all I could do to persuade them you could handle politics.”

  “But you’re the king! Can’t you just wave your hands and make them obey you?”

  He shook his head sadly. “Val, a ruler is nothing without those who support them. If I went against the Council, they could make things very difficult for me, let alone the trouble they could cause you when you come to rule.”

  “I don’t want to marry Lord Wilmont!”

  “I know, and I don’t want you to either.” Her father tried to smile reassuringly. “The Council said they were open to your suggestions until the end of September. If you have not found a suitable choice by then, you will marry Lord Wilmont before the year is out. I’m sorry, Val. I’ll help where I can.” He paused. “Lord deWynstryngham is a nice young man…”

  Valerie laughed. “I don’t know that I would say he’s marriage quality, let alone whether he’d want to marry me,” not just yet anyway. Although, Valerie thought, there would be few men of his station who would not be happy to marry the future queen. The thought saddened Valerie. She would now have to go out to find a potential husband when all those men would be looking at would be the future queen. How was she supposed to find someone she would be happy to spend her life with if they were not even seeing her?