by Barb Hendee
I’d go into the stable in the afternoon to visit Meesha and slip out the back, making sure no one saw me. He’d meet me there, and we’d secretly slip into his quarters. I’d taken to wearing dresses that laced up the front and often had my gown halfway off before he’d finished locking the door. I couldn’t stop longing for the feel of his mouth on mine, for his hands on my body, for the words of love he breathed into my ear.
This was a new world, and I longed for every moment I might spend alone with him.
Autumn passed into early winter. No matter how careful we were not to be seen, it was a miracle we’d not been found out. I tried not to think on the future. I tried to lose myself in our stolen moments.
My life with Ashton was separate, though, and I made sure she had my full focus when facing the men on the council. Lord Sauvage was not satisfied with the reparations King Amandine had paid, and he showed the council reports of a few raiders still crossing the border. I suspected the reports were falsified, and counseled Ashton to write to Colonel Marlowe directly to get an accurate report. In the meantime, Sauvage continued pushing for war and pressing Ashton to raise taxes in preparation for war. With me at her side, she was able to stand up to him in her renewed refusals.
Micah began assigning himself to duties inside the hall at the dinner hour. He only wanted to see me, to be close to me, but we couldn’t look at each other too often or dare to speak.
The winter solstice holidays offered a welcome distraction, and Ashton and I oversaw the decoration of the great hall. I ordered a new gown in dark red velvet with green trim. She and I pored over menus and planned dances and games. We hired musicians and actors for three nights of entertainment.
On the night of the first winter banquet, we walked into the great hall, arm in arm. The hall was already crowded, and I stopped at the sight of a man I’d never before seen, but who struck me as familiar. He was solidly built with a muscular chest and arms. His brown hair was thick. His jaw was square, and he boasted a bump at the bridge of his nose. Even from a distance, his posture and expression exuded a mix of arrogance and strength.
He looked like a younger version of Lord Sauvage.
Lady Miranda smiled at us and drew him over. She curtsied. “My queen, may I present my son, Guy.”
Then I remembered Lord Sauvage had mentioned his son’s arrival for the holidays.
To my amazement, Guy took the queen’s hand and kissed it. “I am honored to meet you.”
He had more charm than his father. I gave him that, but his eyes were hard, and I wasn’t surprised by how quickly Ashton drew her hand back.
She nodded politely. “Welcome to court. Forgive me. I would speak with Lord Moreau on a matter. He promised to help organize the dance tonight.”
She swept off, and I followed, but I could see she was unsettled. She was not comfortable in the company of confident, arrogant men, especially when they insisted on touching her.
Soon, she seemed herself again, and dinner was a merry affair. We’d ordered pheasants roasted with apples, which was one of her favorite dishes. A team of four jugglers entertained us with all variety of feats.
There was laughter and applause.
I tried to enjoy myself, but Micah had assigned himself to stand duty at the archway, and it was hard not to keep glancing at him. I wanted to share my plate with him. I wanted to dance with him after dinner was over.
However, when the music began, I turned to Baron Augustine. Of late, he’d begun to see that Ashton and I were better suited to making decisions for the kingdom than a number of men on the council, and his uncle-like affection had returned.
“Will you ask me to dance, sir?” I teased him.
He smiled. “I can think of nothing I would rather do.”
“My queen,” said a strong voice.
Guy Sauvage stood directly before the table, bowing to Ashton.
“Would you do me the honor of the first dance?” he asked.
I could see she wanted to refuse, but unlike Rowan, she knew better than to give open insult to the other noble families. Rising, she walked around the table and let him lead her out.
The music began, and on a purely physical level, they made a striking couple. But he held her too tightly, and her discomfort was clear.
I glanced over at Micah, who had been watching this, and I caught his eye. He appeared tense, but there was nothing he could do.
“Shall we?” the baron asked me.
Yes, at least I could move closer to her on the dance floor. For his age and girth, the baron was a spritely dancer, and I let him lead me out. By the time the first song ended, eight other couples had joined us on the floor.
Guy turned to the musicians, and ordered, “Play ‘Evalada’.”
Ashton blanched and began drawing away. “My lord, I do not think…”
“Stay with me,” he said.
At this, even Baron Augustine appeared uncomfortable at Guy’s manner, but he said to me, “I fear I must step off the floor, my dear. I’m not the man I once was.”
Knowing exactly what he meant, I stepped off the floor with him, but I asked quietly, “Does she know ‘Evalada’?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Rowan taught her. He would only dance it with her.”
The music began and four couples remained. This was a challenging dance with fast turns, and after every ten steps, the man grasped the woman by the waist and lifted her above his head.
Guy was a skilled dancer and could lift Ashton with no effort. I watched tensely, willing her to get through it, and she did, but at the end, when the men all lifted their partners for a final time, Guy held Ashton in the air longer than necessary. She gripped his wrists in clear distress.
It was all I could do not to order him to put her down. Lord Moreau walked over. He was frowning.
Looking across the hall, I saw Lord Sauvage watching this like a hawk.
Finally, Guy set Ashton on her feet, and she moved away from him, hurrying to me.
“Olivia,” she said, and her voice shook. “I fear something at dinner has not agreed with me. I should like to retire early.”
“Yes, I’ll take you up.”
“What?” Guy stood directly behind us. “The evening has just begun.”
“The queen is unwell,” I said, putting an arm around her and ushering her away. As we passed through the archway, I stole a glance at Micah.
* * * *
There were two more nights of celebration, but they were ruined for Ashton. Guy continued to pay her unwanted attention, and I had no idea what he was after. If he wished to win her affection or goodwill, he could not have gone about it in a worse fashion.
Baron Augustine and Lord Moreau did their best to run interference, but both nights, I took her up early.
On the final night, once she was sleeping, I felt restless and wandered out to the courtyard to seek fresh air.
I’d learned to love the smell of the sea.
Standing with eyes closed, I breathed in the salty scent.
“Olivia.”
My eyes opened to a welcome sight: Micah.
There was no one else about but a few guards on duty down near the gate.
“How is Ashton?” he asked.
“Sleeping,” I answered, “while the court celebrates.”
“Do they all believe you are with the queen?” His voice was soft, and inviting at the same time.
“I believe they do.”
“Perhaps you might go to the stable and check on your horse in a short while.”
I smiled. “Perhaps I might.”
* * * *
We hid away for two hours in his room in the barracks. We’d never have risked this at night, but with the raucous festivities going on in the castle, and the fact that I’d left the hall to take Ashton to her apartments, everyone would assum
e I was with her.
Micah’s lovemaking was intense tonight, as if he wanted to hold on to me.
Something about this made me vain, perhaps needy, and in his bed, with my arms around him, I asked, “When did you first know you loved me?”
He pulled away, propped himself up on one elbow, and looked down into my face. His answer was quick, not requiring a moment’s thought.
“The first time I saw you,” he said, “standing on that hill. You were so beautiful and so angry, your eyes blazing. Rowan had just insulted you, and all I wanted was to drop to my knees and beg your forgiveness.”
I remembered this moment as if it were yesterday. “But why did that make you love me?”
“Because I’ve never begged forgiveness from anyone in my life.” He paused. “When did you know you loved me?”
My answer came just as swiftly. “When you reached down and grasped my hand at Genève’s execution.”
Above me, his body went still, and for an instant, I thought his eyes were wet. Then he buried his face in my neck.
* * * *
Just when I thought the men of the council might never return to their own estates, six of them announced they were packing to leave. I took this as a very good sign. They may not be happy with the arrangement of Ashton as queen and me as chancellor, but at least they were beginning to accept it.
Lord Sauvage caught us unawares by calling a formal meeting of the council before anyone left. He requested that Ashton and I attend. All winter business had been concluded, and I hoped he was not going to make another push to raise taxes and invade Samourè. Every time he did this, he implied that the only reason we’d not yet retaliated on a grand scale was because the kingdom was saddled with a weakling girl.
As Ashton and I walked to the meeting that day, I could see she was weary. Guy Sauvage had not let up with his unwanted attentions, and I hoped he would be traveling back to his duties on the border soon.
Once all twelve men of the council had gathered, an attendant closed the door to the chambers and everyone waited for Ashton to sit. As she took her seat, all the men followed…except Lord Sauvage.
He was the one who’d called the meeting and, apparently, he planned to waste no time.
“My lords,” he began, addressing only the council, “I called you here today to offer a proposal that will bring you joy and strengthen our kingdom. I offer to open marriage negotiations between my son, Guy, and the queen.”
“What?” Lord Moreau asked.
I sat straight, casting my eyes about the long table. Moreau, Baron Augustine, and Lord Cloutier all appeared stunned. But…the other men did not. Even Lord du Guay, who was often at odds with Lord Sauvage was calm, as if he’d known.
“Guy is a fine choice,” Lord Sauvage went on. “He is of old noble blood and will father strong sons. He’s shown bravery in defending our kingdom from all foreign influence and will prove a steady right hand for our queen.”
To my horror, I could see that most of the council agreed. Ashton must marry and provide heirs, and they preferred one of our own nobles to a foreign king.
“And you would see him crowned king?” Lord Moreau spat, not bothering to hide his anger.
This was a tenuous point for Sauvage. When a sitting king married, his wife was crowned queen even if she’d not been a princess, but when a sitting queen married a man who was not of royal blood—which did not often happen—the man was crowned as prince. This kept most of the power in her hands.
“No,” Sauvage answered. “I would stand in joy to see him as prince.”
He’s lying, I thought. I could see it. He’d find a way to have Guy crowned king inside of a year. Ashton would be rolled flat, taxes would be raised, men would be conscripted, and we’d be invading Samourè.
However, the entire argument was rendered moot as Ashton shot to her feet.
“No,” she said flatly.
I looked back to her in alarm. She’d done it again…refused instantly.
“My queen?” Sauvage said. “You will not even consider the proposal?” For once, his tone sounded calm and reasonable.
“No,” she repeated, and then she swept from the room, opening the doors herself.
Silence followed in her wake.
Then Lord Sauvage shook his head. “It seems our queen is adamantly opposed to marriage.”
His eyes glinted with triumph. He’d known exactly how she would react. I’d always viewed him as a blunt instrument, but perhaps Ashton was not the only one who could play chess.
* * * *
I found Ashton alone in her apartments, sitting on a couch by the hearth and staring into the fire. I’d not seen her do this in many months.
Picking up a blanket, I sat down and covered us both, pulling her against my shoulder.
“I should not have refused so quickly, should I?” she whispered.
“No. You should not.”
“They’ll try to force me.”
“They cannot make you agree to a marriage you oppose, and you know I’ll fight them for you.”
She pressed her cheek against my shoulder and nodded.
But Lord Sauvage’s final words affected me more than I wished.
“Ashton?” I asked. “Are you against the idea of marriage?”
She sat up, as if the question had not occurred to her. “No. I must provide heirs. I am not against marriage. But as queen here, I won’t marry a man like Amandine, who is already a king in his own right. He would take my throne. And I won’t marry a bully like Guy. I’ve already been…”
She stopped, but I finished the thought for her.
I’ve already been bullied enough.
Well, that was certainly true.
So, we needed to find a nobleman willing to respect her rule and to share power.
Rather a tall order.
* * * *
Within hours of the council meeting, gossip flooded through the castle that Queen Ashton was a woman who would not marry, that she valued her crown above her duty to provide heirs. Sauvage also managed to start rumors that I was the cause of her reticence, that I was the one whispering poison in her ear so that I might not be forced to share power.
I’d taken on some of the castle household duties, and as I walked to the kitchens to see about dinner menus, many suspicious glances were cast my way.
Was this to be the rest of my life? Would I be forever locked in battle with men who both resented and hated me for my position?
After conferring with the cook, I felt weary and walked outside in the courtyard, hoping Micah might see me.
He did.
Slowly I strolled over to the nearest north tower, and he came to join me. We were well apart from any activity in the courtyard and could speak freely.
He looked as weary as I felt.
“You’ve heard,” I said.
“Yes, and you know Sauvage won’t give up easily.”
“I won’t let him force her.”
“Sometimes…” he said, “I dream of taking you and leaving this place, of leaving this all behind and going to live where no one knows who we are.”
The picture he painted both soothed and pained me at the same time.
“I dream of that too,” I answered. “But we’re the only ones Ashton can trust. The people need her, and she needs us.”
“I know.”
* * * *
That evening after dressing me for dinner, Kamilla left to go up and help Ashton. I had time before I needed to go down to the hall, so I sat on the couch in my apartments in front of my own hearth, thinking. I needed to find a way to squelch the doubts Sauvage had planted in regards to Ashton. Somehow, I needed a graceful way to show that she was not opposed to marriage—only opposed to marriage with Guy.
If she just hadn’t refused King Amandine so insta
ntly and thus set a precedent.
A knock sounded on my door, startling me.
If Kamilla had forgotten something, she would not have bothered knocking.
Rising, I crossed my sitting room and opened the door. To my astonishment, Baron Augustine stood on the other side.
“My dear,” he said. “May I come in?”
For a man, even one as old as him, to ask permission to enter my private chambers alone…well, it simply wasn’t done. But I could see he needed to speak to me, and I stood aside.
“Of course.”
His expression was drawn, and he entered slowly, looking about. “I’ve never been in these apartments.”
Were we making small talk?
“They are most comfortable,” I answered.
He sighed. “Come and sit, my dear.”
A feeling of anxiety began to rise as I wondered what he was about to say, but I sank down on a couch across from him.
“I’ve no wish to beat about the bush,” he said. “I know you are engaged in a tryst with Captain Caron.”
My body went rigid, not only at his blunt confession, but at his words.
Whatever connected Micah and me, it wasn’t a tryst.
The baron raised one hand. “I neither judge nor blame you. You are young, and in your current position, marriage with a man of your own station would be nearly impossible. I’m only here to tell you that if you wish to survive as chancellor, that you must give up the captain.”
I stood and clenched my hands into fists.
But the baron was relentless. “Lord Sauvage has learned of your affair and has been seeking proof.”
All my anger evaporated.
“Does he have any?” I asked.
“If he did, you can be assured he’d have used it by now. I don’t know how you’ve managed to avoid discovery, but you must never again seek out the captain in a fashion where you might be seen in a compromising position. If Sauvage gets proof, you will fall.”
“Half the men on the council keep a mistress!” I shot back, even knowing it was a pointless thing to say.
“You are not a man,” he answered calmly. “If you are discovered with the captain, you’ll be called out for a whore. No one, not even the queen, could save your chancellorship.”