by Amelia Brown
Henry was pulled out of Luveday’s lap with some effort as she tried to rise and go with the impatient servant. The boy did not talk much but remembered her from his visit to the Keep and was glued to her skirts since his arrival; only his mother could pull him away.
Logan took the boy with a chuckle, and Luveday marveled at the transformation. Her harshest critic had become her biggest admirer. His appearance had changed over the last week as Holden steadily improved. When the prince had taken his first stumbling steps across the room and fallen into his friend’s arms, the light in Logan’s eyes had mirrored the sun. Gone were the dark circle and lines of worry and soon the young man’s youth had returned to him. Luveday had been shocked to learn he was merely twenty; she had thought him a decade older at least. Now the two laughed and joked together like brothers. Luveday left them knowing the two could keep the smaller boys entertained. She left a message for Thomas to explain where she was should he return from his errands before she did.
Luveday found herself back in the King’s sitting room where Luveday had first gotten the news of Prince Holden’s illness. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been over a month prior, but something was still amiss if the frown on the King’s brow was anything indication.
“Vexing.” He mumbled under his breath.
“So, the rumors are true, my King.” Augusta sipped her wine from a golden goblet and glanced at Luveday who sat at the far end of the rectangular table.
The King put down the letter in his hand and turned to their guest. His smile was easy and genuine when he looked at her.
Luveday smiled back, at ease with the royal couple after spending so much time in their presence of late. “Lady, my wife has suggested you may be able to help us with another matter.” Luveday couldn’t help the sinking feeling she got at those words.
Augusta laughed at her dubious expression and sought to comfort the young woman. “Not to worry, Lady Luveday. This task should prove easier than your last.” She looked at her husband before retrieving the discarded parchment. “On the coast is a keep of some renown. You may have heard of Briar’s Gate.” Luveday nodded her head. “Few ladies have not.” She looked to her husband with a smile. “The perfumes and flowers they grow are found nowhere else in the kingdom.”
“The keep and lands are held by Lady Claudia, the widow of one of my most trusted lords.” His gaze became hazy with remembrance. “Lord Titus was a brave and loyal man, died in a skirmish coming home from battle a few years ago. Never found out who did it.” He looked troubled.
“Recently there had been some… unpleasantness surrounding the lady.” She glanced at the letter. “Sir Navarro, Titus’s best man, has sent this letter asking us to spare his lady while Sir Marcus Reeves is here to plead her cause.” The Queen’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “We are not hard-hearted and have let the woman grieve, but without heir or issue the Land has returned to the King.” Both royals looked at Luveday who only nodded, and the Queen continued. “Though the land is bountiful and their goods in demand, Lady Claudia has failed to deliver her taxes two years in a row.” Luveday knew this was an insult to the crown, especially since the King had recently called for aid in his war against Sterling. Lady Claudia had snubbed the King one too many times. “We wish this to be a delicate matter as her husband was dear to us both and can see only one solution.”
Luveday swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Me?”
King Edward laughed. “You have proven yourself to be a clever and industrious woman. With what you have done for our son and what miracles you accomplished at Lander’s Keep, Lady Claudia and Briar’s Gate will be a simple task.” Luveday looked to the Queen whose eyes narrowed as they met her own.
The Queen disagreed with that last statement, and Luveday had to agree. Nothing about this seemed simple or easy from where she was sitting.
“We merely wish for you to visit the Lady and get a lay of the land as it were. After a short stay, return and tell us what you think of the lady. We trust your judgment, and with Sir Benedict at your side, we hope that a fortnight or two there will let Lady Claudia see some wisdom. Perhaps even consider accepting a new husband.” She looked at the King who nodded sagely. Meaning Luveday was sent to persuade the lady to behave or risk royal punishment. “We will have to hold off your court celebration, but surely the weather will be better in a few weeks as well.”
The King agreed. “By then the court will be in full bloom.”
Luveday smiled weakly. She did not like the royal court nor it her. She was a celebrity of sorts, having healed the prince and her misadventures in the north, but there was far more dislike of her then there was support, despite having friends in high places. Or because of it. The court ladies were mostly two-faced, smiling at her and joking about her behind her back. Luveday had been happy to stay with the young princes, but even she would have to attend the royal celebration, especially if it was partly in her honor. The thought was unpleasant. Luveday thought she saw a sparkle in the Queen’s eye who was fully aware of the healer’s dislike of the courtesans. Augusta often marveled at the way the little woman maneuvered the women with her polite demeanor. The ladies thought her simple, country-bred and little more than a passing amusement, but when pushed the Queen had seen Luveday hold her own. With time and a little confidence, the young woman would be a force to be reckoned with, and she hoped, a good friend.
Luveday accepted, what else was there to do? A few days passed, and Holden’s full care was given over to Logan and Thomas. The latter of which was wary of leaving the Lady alone. Rumors at court had not spared Lady Claudia, and Thomas was hesitant to leave his friend in the clutches of such a conniving woman. Luveday reminded him that they still had much to do as she worked out a schedule to help the prince regain his strength and adamantly wished Thomas would stay and make sure that nothing else happened to impede the boy’s recovery. Especially not the impending return of Master Pope. Thomas eventually gave up and accepted that he would stay behind, both pleased and wary with the weight of this responsibility.
Saying goodbye again left somehow final. Luveday hugged boys and men and teared up saying she would return in a moon and expected them all to be playing in the gardens on her return. The boy’s promised to teach her all the games they knew next time they saw her. For all the animation of the exchange, there was a sad undercurrent held barely in check. Thomas felt as if she were slipping through his fingers once again as if he should hold on to her or let her go forever, but he couldn’t express what he was feeling. From the prince’s chamber window, he watched the small group of the King’s men ride out, Lady Luveday ringed by knight and men at arms, Thomas admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with her, but he felt that nothing more would come of it. Turning, he smiled at the boys and thought of something to entertain them and get everyone’s mind off this loss.
Of all the things that Luveday missed while being sequestered in the sick room, riding a horse was at the top of the list. On the other hand, the ache of several days in the saddle was not. How quickly she had forgotten the discomfort of it all. Riding away from the city left Luveday with a sense of relief, and yet the uneasiness of an unknown future rode with her. Benedict was constantly by her side and his usual chatty self, filling her in on his mother’s activities and everything she had missed since coming to court while ignoring its goings-on. She listened half-heartedly, more amused by his colorful retellings than any desire to hear of people she had never met. The men with him were familiar faces, somewhere his own and some the King’s guard. The group left with no fanfare, but well outfitted and as ready for the journey as anyone could be. They kept a strong and steady pace, as fast any dare go yet was still be moderate for the horses. Five days in the saddle to Havenwood Castle where they would rest a few days on Lord Grayson Stern’s hospitality. Then there was another five days to Briar’s Gate. Luveday looked forward to meeting the lord and his wife, as well as seeing the coast and its milder weather.
Days passed as the weather grew warmer and the colors of spring more abundant while they drew closer to their destination. Luveday spent most of her days quietly in the saddle. Benedict had run out of news, and finally realized that she didn’t need him to fill the silence. She was happy to be for a while.
It was with a startled look one night that Benedict had let it slip that there were rumors of trouble at Lander’s Keep. Something had happened not long after the wedding, but no one knew the details except that the animosity between Sumerland, his daughter, and De Lane had grown.
Luveday studiously considered her cup of stew, while Benedict stuttered for a moment trying to find a different topic. Nothing coherent came out of his mouth until one of his men sitting across the campfire came to his rescue. “We should reach Havenwood on the morrow, My Lady.”
Luveday looked up and regarded, Rolf, a man at arms. He was old enough to have a daughter a few years younger than herself and had found during the brief conversations they had shared that he was a kind man, honored to hold a high position as one of St. James’ senior men at arms. Luveday sent him a half smile, grateful for the lifeline, but also realized that Lander’s Keep was growing farther away with each day and her heart was mending. The dreams of what could have been began to grow distant, and soon, she realized, she could start dreaming again.
“I am eager to see how Lord Stern fairs. He seemed a good man.” Luveday took another bite of stew.
Rolf huffed. “A good man indeed.”
Benedict cut in. “I sent word ahead, so they should be expecting us.” He watched the lady warily.
Another man spoke up, “We have made good time, so hopefully they will be ready.”
“There was tell of some trouble with Sir Peter going missing.” Someone said as they took their place beside the fire. Luveday stiffened and looked to Benedict who said nothing. The man continued, one of the King’s guards who spoke low and gruffly. “Strange thing that; he disappeared without a trace during the battle with Sterling. Greyson had men searching for him for days. But he was not among the injured or the dead.”
“That is concerning.” Benedict offered thoughtfully.
“I hope nothing tragic has befallen him,” Luveday spoke into her cup as many nodded in agreement. Talk flowed around them until Luveday finally got up to take her rest.
As she settled into her pallet amid the roots of a large out tree, Benedict found his place not far from her. She curled into her cloak and watched him roll out his blankets and set his weapons at the ready as he prepared for sleep. The glitter of his eyes caught hers, but she couldn’t quite discern his expression with the firelight at his back.
A loud whisper met her ears. “I am sorry, lady.”
Luveday didn’t need him to clarify but wished he wouldn’t apologize. “There is nothing for you to be sorry about, my friend.” She couldn’t know how the bittersweet curve of her lips affected him. “It is I who should say how sorry I am that you have been torn from your blood brother to take on my burden…”
His harsh whisper cut her off. “You are not a burden, Luveday.”
Luveday wanted to laugh, but it was a bitter taste in her mouth, so she pulled her cloak up to hide behind it for a moment and compose herself.
“You are not, Luv.” He stared hard at her as if the force of his words would make it so.
The familiar endearment on his lips no longer startled her. “I thank you, Benedict.” She paused a moment before voicing her thoughts, and he went back to settling down on his palate. Her words caused him to turn and look at her sharply, though they were spoken for his ears alone. “Neither of us could have changed what happened.” Over the few feet that separated them, she could see that his eyes were questioning. He did not interrupt though it looked as if he wished to argue but saw that speaking of this was hard for her and so kept silent. “I do not believe any words could have changed De Lane’s mind.” In the long nights since she had left Lander’s Keep, she had thought much on it, though at times she had begged her mind to stop its insistent circling; only time had proven the cure. Only time had provided her with an answer, though it was not one that she liked; it had not changed since that night in the upstairs corridor with De Lane. “Only he could choose his path, for right or wrong, love or honor.” She rolled on to her back and mused a moment before continuing. “It is all anyone can do, to choose a course, even deciding to do nothing is a choice. I could have stayed, you could have stayed, but I feared what would become of me… or him. If we decided to keep circling each other.” Luveday sighed. “I know in the marrow of my bones what that future would have looked like.”
“Luveday,” Benedict whispered harshly.
She turned back to meet his gaze. “I saw it for a heartbeat, reflected in his eyes.” His eyes darkened. “It wasn’t a bad thing, Benedict. It was the wrong place and the wrong time.” She almost laughed at that. She out of place and time, what irony. “And I want to be his first choice, the one he could weather any storm beside. But he didn’t choose that, and I couldn’t live with what was left.”
A growl escaped Benedict, and a hand suddenly grasp her own. “Luveday…” she heard a question in his voice somewhere amid the anger and frustration. “Did Iain, did De Lane…” he pressed her hand trying to ask what he couldn’t get past his lips.
“Nay, Benedict.” His whole body sagged in relief. Luveday didn’t want to admit how much had passed between De Lane and herself because it felt too intimate and too raw. “What was between us was strong, and I felt that eventually, desire would win over everything else. Like a stone worn away by the ocean, my resolve would have eventually succumbed.” Benedict didn’t look happy at this. “What is it?” She asked.
Was it her imagination or could she hear the grinding of his teeth?
“He knew better.” A frustrated breath left him and ruffled the hair on her brow. “He had more honor and sense than that. At least I thought so.” His blue eyes turned distant, and she knew he didn’t hear her muffled protest. “As a knight, we are held to a line above other men. Flirting, stolen kisses, and embraces from women who are free is one thing. It is a game played at court, but this.” He looked at her again. “I knew he was going too far. I saw that what he felt for you was more. Though I prayed he would find his way to you… you are right, Luveday. He chose his course and could have changed it. He wanted you, and prosperity at Lander’s Keep. I am not sorry that I chose to help you. I merely wish…” There was so much that he had to tell her, and yet it changed nothing.
“That it is what it could have been.” She finished for him. “I wish it was what we wanted, what would have made us happy.” Luveday finished in a melodic whisper, “but that is not what it is.”
They were silent for some moments, realizing the camp had gone quiet around them.
“Rest well, My Lady.” He whispered.
“Rest well, My Lord.” She turned away, settling on her other side and found sleep sooner than anyone else.
Benedict watched as her breathing evened out into the depths of sleep and not for the first time wished they felt more for each other, or he less for her. Sometimes he wished that this deep friendship between them would blossom into something more, and sometimes he wished that he were as good as she thought he was. Never did he wish that he had never met her, nor that he felt nothing for her, but he knew that though they could journey through life together and be happier than most, there was one man out there that suited her even better than he.
Laying there, part of him wondered if his reasoning for helping her still rung true. He had wanted to give her whatever assistance she needed because he knew her to be a worthy and extraordinary lady, but when Lady Emmalyn had come seeking his help, he had told himself it was more for Iain that he did this thing. Benedict had thought to look after the lady on his behalf, fully expecting Iain to come to his senses and realize that here was his other half. So, he had taken Luveday from Lander’s Keep with the surety that Iain De Lane would not be far behi
nd, but as the journey grew longer and they reached his lands, his confidence wavered. Finally, after weeks and no sign of his blood brother, Benedict had admitted the truth, if only to himself. Iain De Lane was a damned fool, a bloody damned fool for letting the lady go. And if his friend did not send some word soon, Benedict feared he would prove to be just as foolish and make a bid to keep the lady for himself.
Havenwood castle was stark in the midday sun. The walls lined with men of arms that stopped them to ask their names and purpose before allowing the group entrance. Somehow, the castle was less than she expected, though she would never voice such. Compared to the three other castles she had visited; this castle was plain, though its fortifications were greater. Luveday thought it appropriate for a family with the last name of Stern. Looking around as they traversed the outer bailey, she and Benedict were granted leave to take their horses up to the gate of the keep. She learned the keep was also referred to as the dungeon, though she had always thought that was a name for the place where they stored prisoners. As honored guesses, she learned that this was a privilege, as mounted and armed individuals were kept far from the hall.
Benedict helped her to unmount, as an older knight watched from atop the steps. Luveday could see the frown as he noticed her split skirt, the only option to save her modesty while riding astride.
“Sir Bernard. Greetings!” Benedict called out as they reached the man.
“Lord St. James. ‘Tis good to see you again.” The knight’s eyes looked Luveday over. He was a large man, and tall. Very tall, she conceded as Luveday tilted her head back to meet his gaze.