Bonds: A Cursed Six novel (The Cursed Six Book 1)

by Clarrisa R. Smithe

  She had asked for the times for each activity but he had brushed the question aside. Others would remind her. What bride, after all, barked the orders and times to those waiting upon her?

  When the time came for the two to part ways until the following morning, he escorted her to her door. How he managed to appear so composed and confident she did not know. Straight backed, no peculiar utterances as he spoke. Merely instructions and comforting words, before he bade her farewell with a light peck, to her regret upon her forehead rather than her lips.

  For the first time since her arrival, she felt incredibly lonely. He was close by, close enough to be summoned by servants if there was some form of emergency, but he was not with her. Her hand grazed over her belly where their child resided and she realised that she was not truly alone, but she had come to realise that an unborn baby did not make for particularly good company. It occurred to her that the child was a Hanson rather than a Misseldon, breaking the line of centuries of tradition within her house. She was to join Redthorn's royal house and by law would be Astrid Hanson, though she supposed nothing would ever remove the name of Misseldon from her person.

  Attempting to lessen her responsibility towards the house of her birth would be no easy feat, and she realised how much she missed her siblings. A'zur, her darling big brother, of course, but her sister and other brothers too. She had an urge to write to any and all, though despite her request she had not yet been granted the provision of writing paper and a quill. Prince Tristian had informed her that she need not worry about writing to her family, for the responsibility was already taken care of by his mother. Naturally the queen would not be writing on the same business as she would, and she doubted that a letter would have been sent to each sibling, even Ethan, as was her intention. A note to say how she was doing, questions about their lives and interests, and of course, requests that they paid a visit once the baby was born.

  She had attempted to push her siblings from her mind as their presence within her head only threatened to upset her. As everyone seemed to say, she was to rest. Rest her body and mind. That meant disregarding any sense of homesickness, or rather sentiments towards her former home, for the sake of as easy a night as possible.

  The peach day dress was quickly discarded in favour of a lighter, sleeveless nightgown. While the nights were hardly comfortable in the heat, thin sheets and sheer nightclothes made the situation a little more bearable. Her bed had been prepared with her occasional disagreement with the heat in mind and as she approached the generously-sized furniture, she realised how eager she was to fall asleep and bring about the events of the following day.

  "Your father will be with us tomorrow night," she whispered as her hand grazed over her swollen middle. That would be an interesting situation, not only for having Tristian remain with her throughout the entire night, but because a large man such as he seemed to generate a great deal of heat. She trusted that he would make her as comfortable as possible, but she was sure she could endure the temperature if it meant he held her as they slept. "We'll be together pro-"

  A knock on the door provided a most startling interruption. She clutched at her middle and stared in the direction of the sound. It was not Tristian, for he would have likely entered or called through the wood to alert her of his presence. There came a knock, before a voice, a female one she had never heard came from the other side.

  "Princess Astrid?"

  Who else could occupy the room? She believed it belonged to one of Tristian's sisters before she was granted it as temporary accommodation, but she was also aware that Princess Jocelyn now occupied apartments with her family within the eastern wing.

  "Good evening, Princess Astrid?"

  She wanted to tell whoever it was to leave her be as it was most irregular to disturb a bride the night before her wedding. Furthermore, Tristian had instructed her to rest and that was what she intended to do before she was interrupted. He had not advised her that she would be receiving a visitor when she was supposed to be settling in bed.

  A tentative step was taken towards the door, before she stopped. What if it was someone to hurt her? An assassin? Another woman that Tristian may have lay with which would complicate matters further?

  "Princess Astrid, it's Lady Constance."

  Her previous concerns were disregarded. This was much worse. On the other side of the door was the woman she had pushed aside. Tristian's former betrothed, the former future queen of Redthorn. A holy woman, she had come to understand, and who commanded a high level of respect from the court due to her lineage as pious as her own was royal.

  Perhaps she could pretend to be asleep, though her collision with the post of the bed soon put an end to that plan. She grunted softly but any attempt to keep the incident quiet proved to be in vain when Lady Constance continued to knock upon the door.

  "Gracious, are you quite alright?" Came the voice. "Should I call for the prince?"

  With a deep breath she recalled her courage. She was a Misseldon after all, and their dignity and bravery was as strong and ancient as the mountains and seas. If only she could embody that feeling rather than harbouring the wish that she could melt into a puddle and be forgotten about.

  With care not to assault any more inanimate objects, Astrid shuffled towards the door.

  "Are you—"

  "Yes!" she called and inwardly lamented at the cracking of her voice. "Yes, yes, just one moment."

  Her hand lingered over the handle of the door and she knew it was too late to send her away. She had spoken and Lady Constance was fully aware that she was awake. Why could not Tristian be around to make the situation easier?

  She clicked the latch and allowed the door to open so slowly that she expected a long and ominous creak, yet it appeared the latches were perfectly oiled. For a moment she expected a knife to burst through the gap, piercing her in the head, heart, or belly as punishment for taking Tristian from her and setting her on a different path.

  What she did not expect was the pretty girl, who from her understanding was a couple of years older, smiling gently back at her. Large almond-shaped eyes were reminiscent to that of a doll, and shone with the quality of highly polished onyx. The painters, for she would have been an enchanting subject, would have revelled at the opportunity to mark her mouth. The rose-petal shaded curves came together in a formation that many would have considered on the smaller side, but it seemed to suit her face. Her cheeks brimmed with a gentle pink glow that grew lighter as it followed the path to the bridge of her nose, which shone with a bright, natural shimmer.

  She ascended her gaze to the top of her head, over the black sculpting of her eyebrows which offered a sure hint at the shade of her hair, which concealed Lady Constance's locks as well as it did Astrid's curiosity.

  The headpiece was as strange as the garb she wore. Heavy, dark robes, with tight cuffs at the wrists, drawing upwards at the neck into a high collar. Not a speck of skin was revealed, save her face and two delicate hands, crossed together in her lap. Her attire was peculiar and Astrid could certainly not imagine wearing such an outfit in the heat, or ever for that matter, yet Lady Constance did not look unsightly or frumpy.

  If anything it made her wonder why Tristian had chosen to lie with her when he had such a beautiful betrothed.

  "There you are," Lady Constance began, "I thought you were hiding from me."

  "N-no. Not hiding." There she was again, as usual, the stupid stammer she knew she ought to attempt to eradicate. Now another was exposed to it.

  "That's good then!" She continued to smile and Astrid could not help the twitching of her lips as she came to match the expression. "I am sorry for the time of my calling. It's late, I know, and you've got such a busy day tomorrow. I was bursting with excitement to meet you though and I knew you would be off doing all sorts with Prince Tristian after tomorrow. Then I'll be as busy with Prince Rhenan. Who knows when we might get to make our proper introductions if not right at this very moment?"

  It mad
e sense, she supposed, and she was glad that Lady Constance's tone did not lament the change of fortune. She spoke of Rhenan with the same decent joviality as she did Tristian, leading Astrid to believe that she may not be too upset about the state of affairs. After all, she was happy to meet her and there was no hint of accusation or blame.

  "Yes, we're all going to be very busy," she agreed as she noted how rude she was being for not inviting Lady Constance into her room. Talking at doorframes was terribly ill-mannered. "Would you like to come in?"

  Her smile grew even wider. "Oh, would you mind? It would be so wonderful if we could talk. Just us girls."

  Just us girls. The phrase was alien, but Astrid did not hate it. Never before had she been in a situation with 'just us girls', not even when spending time alone with Eleanor. It sounded special, an exclusive organisation where there were no boys allowed.

  "Alright then," she said with a small giggle. "Just us girls."

  She shifted aside for the other woman to enter before closing the latch upon the door. One of the two dining chairs were motioned at with a swift move of her hand, for she could never allow her guest to just stand, and she was glad when Lady Constance took a seat. She felt strangely powerful and in control of herself and the situation. The last time she had felt so confident was when Tristian had taken her for the first time, though he had soon taken control.

  "I will not stay long. I know you probably need your rest," Lady Constance stated. As Astrid sat, she realised that her belly was an apparent area of interest. She wondered then, as her body threatened to descend into panic, whether the woman opposite knew of the pregnancy, or if she had believed the sudden formation of a political union, spurred by the desires of the respective kings of Thellemere and Redthorn, to be truthful. Astrid was not sure what was worse, being jilted due to her inferior status or because her betrothed had fallen to the temptation of another leading to the eventual production of a bastard child.

  "So much going on, as we said. I asked Prince Tristian if I could come along to greet you. He thought it was a splendid idea."

  So Tristian approved of this. Perhaps he wished to smooth things over between him and Lady Constance, and in doing so was keen to establish a close relationship between the two brides.

  "Prince Rhenan thought it the most fantastic idea also. He's so excited over the thought of us being friends. You and I. I told him we won't be friends of course."

  She felt a weight drop in her stomach. Enemies surely. They were to be enemies because of what she had done, and Lady Constance harboured a resentment towards her because of the life changing events being all her fault.

  "W-won't be friends?"

  "No." There was a shuffling of fabric as Lady Constance slid her hand across the table so it covered Astrid's. Her hands were soft and warm, almost a comfort as she curled her fingers into Astrid's palm and squeezed. "We'll be sisters."

  "Sisters?"

  "Yes, sisters. As the wives of Prince Tristian and Prince Rhenan, we are sisters by marriage, just as Prince Tristian is to be my brother and Prince Rhenan is to be yours. I'll admit, I'm anticipating having a rather nice handful of siblings very much. I was never fortunate to have any before."

  "I have five. One is dead but he still counts." She now felt that she was boasting. Five by blood rather than a number acquired through marriage. Just as she was about to open her mouth to apologise for her insincerity, Lady Constance laughed softly.

  "Then you will have many more to consider your brothers and sisters! Though I am sorry to hear that one has passed. It could not have been easy for you."

  She shook her head and thought back to what she was doing when Alan met the flames. Cavorting here, plotting her future and attempting to secure the prince. It seemed unjust, though she would not be sitting here had she been so mindful of what was occurring back in Thellemere as she enjoyed the festivities.

  "Personally," Lady Constance stated before she had opportunity to respond, "I am very much looking forward to all the little ones that will be born to my brothers and sisters."

  She was sure she had turned the shade of her nightgown and would just be one white mass with a golden top. It had to be a hint that she knew of her pregnancy. Which one of the brothers had told them? Rhenan more likely than Tristian, but it would do no good, despite her anxiety, to push the blame onto either man. Perhaps there was rumour, or it had even been one of the sisters. Jocelyn, wishing to stir up trouble.

  "Yes, there will be a lot," she whispered.

  "Are you quite alright? You've gone terribly pale?"

  So Lady Constance had noticed, but then again, who would not? A blind man may have still been able to sense how blanched she appeared. Regardless, she managed a nod and the smallest of smiles.

  "Yes, thank you. It's just quite daunting to think of the expectation of women charged with bringing forth the next generation of this impressive dynasty."

  "Yes, quite, but you will be queen someday. Once you're married everyone will be talking of what comes next. They'll all be hoping for the announcement that a little prince or princess is on its way comes by the following season."

  It would, of course, while she was secluded away in her new home. It had made sense that it was done this way, though having someone speak of it only made her realise that it was real. This would happen and she would indeed be in charge of providing the crown with healthy heirs.

  "I hope it'll come soon."

  "So does Prince Tristian. He spoke with great animation over his excitement towards marrying you and having a family. He also said... well... asked actually."

  Her eyes grew wide at the thought of Tristian being excited over the baby. He cared, she was sure of it. Concern had shined through just before he commenced thrusting roughly into her over the dinner table, though his outburst and slaps perhaps suggested that he was not as mindful of her delicate condition as he ought to have been.

  "Yes?"

  "Well, you need to think how you say this to him. It might be nice for you to mention tomorrow, or sometime soon. He said he's rather bashful over mentioning this to you since you might think him to be soft. But he'd really love a daughter."

  "A daughter?"

  The memory of their discussion concerning the child's sex came to mind and not once did he hint at his desire to sire a daughter rather than a son. A son was expected, a son was needed and wanted. A daughter, while useful, was always to be secondary.

  "Yes. He confessed with a sweet smile upon his face that a little girl would give his heart cause to swell with love. He would have her named Rosamund, or his little Rosie, named after the flowers that remind him so fondly of her mother. His two roses, he referred to you and this little Rosie as. His face was a picture."

  She was blinking along in disbelief as Lady Constance described Tristian's wishes. Perhaps he was shy to admit this to her, especially when he was so dominant a male. The image of him holding a daughter in his arms, strolling through the gardens as she watched the two from behind was as sweet as could be.

  "But you see, he's embarrassed over it all."

  "He shouldn't be! It's darling."

  Lady Constance nodded. "I know, but he's a man. He did ask, since he is so in love with the idea, that you perhaps hint it to him. Speak of a daughter and perhaps her name. Rosamund, or little Rosie. Once he knows you are accepting of the idea he will gladly reveal his intentions. I know you know that he wants you to know, and you know of his apprehension, but at least you will both relish the thought of your daughter."

  "Perhaps I should mention it to him tomorrow."

  The nod Lady Constance gave was more enthusiastic than the last. "Yes! Mention it to him tomorrow, a sweet moment in his ear, perhaps when passing a display of roses. He will be overjoyed by the idea."

  She wished to please him in whatever way he fancied at that particular moment. To see his lips curve at the thought of their child, whether boy or girl, was truly adorable, but to think he was secretly harbouring a wish to hav
e a female child though was too embarrassed to voice it to her, was something else entirely.

  "It'll be really cute!" she found herself saying with great enthusiasm. A female child would stand as the opposite to what the crown wanted, a male heir, but she knew that boys would certainly follow. If their firstborn was a girl, it would not bother him as it did some men and as she believed it would before. Things would get better for them, and easier for her.

  "It will!" Lady Constance chirped in reply. "It will really be something special. A memory to cherish for all eternity."

  She was certain she would not forget this detail, for who could allow something so lovely to slip from mind? The thought could have been mused on for hours and she found she was not nervous about approaching him with the news or requesting his thoughts as she had been in various other topics. Mulling over it too much presently, however, would be rather rude in the company she kept.

  "Are you looking forward to your marriage to Prince Rhenan?"

  She had thought the question to be a mistake the instance it tumbled from her lips. Mention of the younger brother would only serve as a reminder that the woman opposite was intended to be wed to Prince Tristian for many years.

  Regardless of that fact, Lady Constance chuckled and gave a small nod. "He's certainly a character."

  "A lovely man though. He's always been kind to me."

  "And Prince Tristian has not?"

  Astrid was quick to nod. She could not allow herself to consider the times where he had verged into displays of displeasure more extreme than unkindness. "Prince Tristian has too, but Prince Rhenan has also been kind. They're both kind. He reminds me of the men of my homeland at times."

  "Is it the hair?" Lady Constance laughed. How funny it was for her to be discussing hair when she concealed her own beneath the veil. Perhaps Rhenan made up for Lady Constance displaying no hair at all with his impressive mane.

  "Perhaps a little. He would not look out of place venturing through the planes of snow or the Forests of Eternity."

  "That's an interesting name."