“My wife.” He snarled against the skin of my throat, his hot, wet breaths making me shiver as he spoke in time with his movements. “My wife…my wife…mine…mine…mine…”
He shoved hard one last time, and I had to hold him tightly for fear of being knocked right through the thin, wooden wall as he moaned loud and long, filling me more deeply than he had before.
Warm, panting breaths alternated with kisses against the skin of my neck as he slowly calmed and then slipped out of me. He did not look me in the eye as he lowered my feet to the straw and reached down to help me pull up my discarded undergarment.
“Forgive me, Alexandra,” Branford whispered softly, his eyes finally meeting mine. “I never intended to be so…so quick with you.”
“Branford,” I whispered back to him and shook my head. I took his face between my hands, as he had done so often with me, and kissed his lips gently. “There is no reason for your apology.”
“I was rough with you.”
“I am not injured.”
“I did not…I was not even thinking of your needs.”
“Yet you met them anyway.”
He stared at me again, and the strange look in his eyes, last evident on the stone bench as I examined his hand, returned. He stroked my cheek, kissed me back, and straightened his own clothes. He looked to his injured hand and flexed the muscles a couple of times and winced, then leaned close to me again and kissed along my jaw.
“I am undoubtedly the luckiest man to ever live,” Branford hummed into my ear. “I promise I will make this up to you tonight.”
“There is no need,” I responded, still breathless.
“I shall do it anyway.”
That evening, Branford made good on his promise.
*****
Branford joined Ida and me in the stands the next day to watch the tournament. His mood did seem to improve markedly in tandem with the number of times he partook of my flesh. He was still somewhat aloof and…well…surly, especially when Sir Leland, the knight with the blue griffon symbol, was fighting and winning more matches. Sir Parnell managed to win the final joust and would go on to the final round of hand-to-hand combat in the morning along with Sir Leland and another knight from Peaks—Sir Rylan. Ida was beside herself with pride, especially since Parnell was competing in his own lands. The home crowd cheered their lord as he rode around the edge of the arena, and Ida held her pennant up high, waving it frantically as he took off his helm and blew her a kiss. She squealed, earning her many disparaging looks from the other nobles near us, but she did not seem to care or even take notice.
“I want to check on Romero,” Branford said, “but I will first congratulate Parnell on his win.”
“I have his carrots here,” I said. “I would like to get away from the crowds for a while. I could meet you at his stall.”
“Ida, would you accompany Alexandra to the stables? I would rather not have her wandering around alone. I shall be there shortly.”
“Of course,” Ida said with a smile. Branford leaned over and kissed my cheek before taking his leave of us. Ida and I made our way through the crowd and down the platform’s wooden stairs.
“Oh! My pennant!” Ida suddenly exclaimed. “I left it on the bench.”
“Go ahead and retrieve it before it is lost,” I said. “We can meet in the stables.”
“Are you sure? You could come with me.”
“I would rather not go back through the crowds,” I explained. “I can already see the stable door from here, and I will be perfectly fine for a few minutes.”
“I will be quick,” she promised and then disappeared back into the crowd.
I walked into the barn and was immediately assaulted by the intense smells surrounding the horses. I had entered the opposite side of the building this time, and Romero's stall was at the end closest to me. I could not help but smile at his impatient nicker when he saw my approach. I reached out and stroked his nose as he gobbled the carrots out of my hand.
As Romero enjoyed his treat, I became aware of a group of three men at the far end of the barn. There were so many stalls, and the barn was so long, I could not hear what they were saying, but I could see the three of them tilting back tankards of—presumably—ale and laughing loudly. One tall man with short cropped, blond hair seemed to be directing the others in conversation and laughing the loudest. He leaned against the side wall of the stall, facing my direction. The other two had dark hair and were older than the first. They were likely all competing knights though I could not see them well enough to identify them. I assumed they were celebrating the outcome of today’s games. They quaffed their drinks and looked inside the very last stall on the same side of the barn as Romero’s quarters. As they peered inside the stall, they would laugh heartily and often.
I tried to ignore them though I did notice they seemed to glance over at me frequently. I tried to keep my focus on Romero as I fed him his snack and wondered what was taking Ida so long to join me. The knights were still speaking to each other as they stood near the opening to the last stall in the row, but I still couldn’t make out any of their words. Their laughter grew suddenly louder, and I let myself look over to them.
As I looked, another knight—one I had not seen before, with long brown hair tied at his neck—rose from the stall where he had been hidden behind the dividing wall. He stood there a moment, staring at the ground before laughing loudly and taking a few steps backwards. I could tell his hands were moving, but the wall of the stall blocked my view, and I could not see exactly what he was doing. The tall, blond knight leaning against the wall of the stall clapped one of the dark-haired knights on the back. The knight quickly removed his sword and scabbard from around his waist and then entered the stall, dropping down below the edge of the wall and out of my view. Laughter and cheering ensued again.
Confused, I tried to ignore the rowdy group as Romero finished his carrots and nuzzled his fuzzy nose against my palm, looking for more. It tickled my skin, and I squelched a giggle. He allowed me to scratch the top of his nose and run my hand over the smooth hair along his neck before he bored of me and went back to his bucket of oats. I took a step back from the stall gate and looked down to the laughing knights again.
All four of them were now standing outside the stall, and the dark-haired knight was again donning his sword. They spoke louder now, and I could make out some talk about meeting at Sawyer Inn later in the evening. With their plans made, three of the four left, but the blond one stayed behind. He was still looking into the stall. At once, he finished his drink and threw the tankard into the straw.
“Make yourself presentable,” the knight said, seemingly addressing the ground inside the stall. “Then fetch my horse from the farrier.”
With that he turned on his heel, briefly glanced at me through narrowed eyes, and walked out of the stable.
As my curiosity got the better of me, I walked slowly down the line of mostly empty stalls. When I reached the last one, I looked inside and gasped at the sight before me.
There was an angelic-faced girl there, perhaps two years younger than I. Her short, dark hair was hanging in her eyes, and her face was covered in sweat. Her simple dress was torn in the front, exposing one of her young, rounded breasts. She was curled up on her side and used one hand to try to cover the top half of her while the other worked to pull the skirts of her dress down to cover her bare thighs. I could see the remnants of what must have been her undergarment, torn into shreds on a pile of dirty straw. Tears were streaming down her face.
And that is when I realized what the knights had been doing.
BOOK FOUR: The Shortcoming
As the bond between Alexandra and Branford deepens, they each have their hopes for the future. Branford aspires to lead his kingdom with both wisdom and a firm hand while Alexandra fervently wishes to give her husband an heir. As Alexandra learns to embrace her noble role, she finds friendship with the girl she rescued from an abusive owner. It seems as though their lives have finally re
warded them with the happiness they have sought.
But happiness comes at a price, for war is on the horizon.
The neighboring kingdom of Hadebrand has amassed an army, and against insurmountable odds, Branford must lead the fight for his people. Alexandra is terrified but cannot let her fear show for she must serve as an example to their kingdom.
The war must eventually end, but there is only one thing on Branford’s mind—to continue the royal lineage. But how will Alexandra overcome her heartache when she can’t give her husband the one thing he must have?
Chapter 19—Resolutely Surrender
For a very long moment, I just stood there with mouth agape, trying to understand what had apparently occurred so close to me yet without my knowledge. I had been on the other side of the stables, only vaguely aware of the knights at the far end. Now that I understood what they had been doing, I was shocked and horrified.
The girl rolled over to her hands and knees and began to push herself up and out of the dirty straw before I gained my senses and moved to help her.
“Are you hurt badly?” I asked quietly. I crouched down next to her and reached out to offer assistance though I didn’t know what I should do to help. The girl reached over her shoulder and pulled her soiled dress against her chest. It was badly torn and likely ruined. If only I had realized what was happening to her earlier…but even then, what could I have done?
“I am fine, my lady,” the girl’s soft voice proclaimed as she tried to right herself. She used one hand to push her short, dark hair from her face.
“My name is Lady Alexandra,” I told her. I really didn’t know if my name was known yet or not here in Sawyer though Branford kept assuring me I would be known both by name and face before the end of summer. The colors of my dress made me stand out as a supporter of Silverhelm, not as its future queen. “I am Prince Branford’s wife. If you tell me what happened, maybe I can help.”
The girl’s eyes went wide with terror as she scrambled in the dirty straw to get herself sitting upright. She shook her head and started begging me.
“No, no—please, my lady! Do not speak of it!” She pushed herself up onto her feet as chaff rained down from her torn dress. I stood as well, reaching for her arm to steady her as she swayed. “I am fine, really. I just need to get Lord Leland’s horse now.”
Lord Leland. Undoubtedly, this was Sir Leland, the knight Branford had mentioned the previous day. I was sure of it. He was the knight who had bested Branford in the joust. He must have been the blond knight who stayed after the others had left. I remembered Branford’s warning to stay away from him.
“You cannot possibly—” I didn’t get my sentence out before I heard my name called from the other end of the stables.
“Alexandra!” Ida stood near Romero’s stall, looking up and over the wall. She looked from left to right, seeking me out.
“Over here, Ida!” I called back and waved my hand in her direction. Ida gathered up her skirts and came quickly to the other side of the building. When she reached me, she observed the girl in the stall and then faced me with a look of concern in her eyes.
“I was stopped by Lady Sawyer,” Ida said. “I realize you have only met her once, but you already know how difficult it is to get her to end a sentence. What happened?”
“There were some knights here…” I started to say.
“Please, my lady,” the girl begged. She reached out as if to take my hand. “I do not want to start any trouble.”
“Trouble?” I asked. “You have done nothing wrong.”
“Lord Leland bade me to collect his horse,” she said softly. She grabbed a bit and bridle from the wall of the stall and started to walk toward the door to the barn. “I should go to the farrier now.”
“He was one of the men who hurt you, wasn’t he?” I asked, grasping her arm and turning her to me. Her gaze darted from me to Ida and then back to me again.
“He did no harm, my lady.” The girl pulled her shoulders in on herself, as if she was trying to disappear into the ground.
“No harm!” I scoffed, pointlessly indicating her torn dress and muddied skirts.
“It is his right,” the dark haired girl said with a shrug.
“Alexandra,” Ida said as she placed her hand on my arm, “what happened?”
I looked from the girl to Ida and wondered what I could say. I did not want to frighten Branford’s sister, nor did I want the girl to run off before I could convince her to seek help. Before I could respond to Ida, I heard my name called again, this time by the deep voice of my husband. He had also entered the far end of the stables near his horses. I waved my hand in the air to get his attention.
“Please, my lady,” the girl said again, “truly, I do not wish to be a burden. I should go…”
“It is not a burden!” I said, insisting, but before I could say any more, Branford was near.
“What are you doing down here?” he demanded as he walked over toward us. He looked from me to Ida and then into the stall. The girl had managed to straighten her dress so she was no longer exposed, but the dress was obviously torn, and her lip was bloody and swollen. Branford looked back to me. “Alexandra?”
“There were some knights here,” I started to say, but the girl grabbed my arm. When I turned, she was shaking her head and begging me not to tell Branford what had happened.
“Please, my lady,” she said.
I looked back to my husband, but he was looking away from me and away from the girl in the stall. His jaw was set, and his hands flexed into fists for a moment.
“What are you doing down here, Alexandra?” Branford asked, demanding my answer.
“Branford, she was—”
“We need to return to the arena,” Branford said, cutting off my words.
“But, Branford,” I started to say but was interrupted again.
“It is not your concern, Alexandra.” Branford’s eyes darted quickly between my face and the stall where the girl stood with her head bowed and then toward the entrance to the stable.
My heart sank, and words would no longer form in my throat. He was not going to help her—that much was obvious. I knew by the look in his eye, he had not misinterpreted what had occurred. He knew what had happened, and he was willingly walking away from it. Indeed, he was telling me to do the same.
“Branford, she is hurt,” I said, hoping my emphasis would make the point better. He glanced at her again.
“She seems all right.”
“Branford!”
“There is nothing I can do,” Branford said. He turned and started walking back toward Romero’s stall, and I scurried after him.
“Branford, what do you mean, ‘nothing’? They were…they were brutal with her!”
“I know who she is,” Branford said with a shrug. His eyes were dark and narrowed, betraying his ire behind the nonchalance he attempted to project.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Janet. She’s owned by Sir Leland.”
“Owned?”
“Yes.”
“A slave?” I gasped.
“Yes, a slave.”
“But surely he cannot—”
“Alexandra, please.” Branford stopped and gripped my forearms with his hands. “There is nothing I can do.”
“But is Sawyer not part of Silverhelm?” I continued to press. “Do you not rule here?”
“Of course I do!” Branford snapped back. “That has nothing to do with it!”
“They hurt her, Branford. Did you not see?” I couldn’t understand his attitude toward what was obviously so heinous an act. He was a prince here! Could he not do whatever he pleased?
Branford closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head sharply, as if to dispel whatever thoughts were in his mind as he turned and walked farther away from me though I followed still. He balled his hands into fists, and without warning, he stopped walking and turned back to me.
“Do you not think I want to correct this?” he yelled.
“Do you not think I would do something about it if I could? With all you know of me, with what you know of…of my mother…how could you think I would turn my back if I had another choice?”
I opened my mouth, dumbfounded, but quickly looked away from him, for his question was more than valid.
“I did not mean…” I started but didn’t know exactly how to finish.
“You asked me once before how your life differed from that of a slave,” Branford said, reminding me.
“I remember,” I said softly. I looked up into his eyes, taking a step closer to him. “I was not thinking clearly, Branford. Please, forgive me.”
“Now do you understand the difference?” Branford raised his hand up in the air as if to make his point to the skies or at least the roof of the barn. “Had she been his paid servant, I would have no issue taking him to the stocks, but she is a slave, and she is his property. He is free to use her as he sees fit.”
The sight of her on the floor of the stall invaded my mind and brought tears to my eyes. Her torn dress, her bloodied lip, and four, strong knights drinking their ale and doing with her whatever they wished.
“Branford…that is…is…”
“I know, Alexandra,” he said, his voice softening. He took a deep breath as he reached out and took me in his arms. “Do you not believe I would act on this if I could? But she is only a slave, and he is of royal blood from the kingdom next door to Silverhelm. Even if she was a hired servant, I could not have punished him harshly. But she is his slave, and he has done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong,” I said, listening to the words echo around the stables.
“Alexandra, please…”
“Please what?” I asked quietly.
“You must understand she has no more rights than if he had brought a lamb with him to slaughter for the feast. Do you think I could tell him not to slaughter his own lamb? Do you think I could punish him for eating it?”
My gaze dropped to the ground, and I felt a single tear as it escaped from my eyes and fell across my cheek. The girl was nothing to him—not to Branford or to Sir Leland—not a person, just a commodity to be used and cast aside when no longer needed. Branford brushed his thumb gently against my cheekbone. I thought he was about to speak, but before he had the chance, I heard rapid footsteps, and Ida was suddenly with us.