I forced thoughts of the dress out of my mind. If this is what the ladies of the court, Ida, and Queen Sunniva herself would be wearing, I wasn’t going to insult them by not wearing the gift they had provided even if it terrified me to be seen in such a state. Still, when it was finally time to join everyone else in the great hall, I found it difficult just to open the door.
There was no one in the hallway, thankfully, and I assumed most everyone was already in the hall, waiting for my entrance. I looked down at my exposed skin once more and grimaced a little. I took a deep breath, sealed my determination to at least look fashionable even if I still didn’t know exactly what would happen during the feast. Branford has assured me all that was required was my entrance, eating, and dancing. As long as he was leading the dance, I thought I would be just fine.
I made my way to the entrance and saw the two guards standing outside the huge pair of doors leading to the hallway. I dropped my gaze to the ground as they looked first at me, then at each other. Trying to keep my nervousness in check, I walked up to the center of the two doors and glanced up at the guard on the left side. I felt my teeth trying to puncture my bottom lip and made myself stop.
“Are you…um…ready to enter, my lady?” the guard questioned quietly.
“Yes,” I replied, my voice equally as soft.
He nodded once, then met his counterpart at the center of the doors and swiftly pulled them apart. I took one last deep breath, tried to hold up my head, and walked quickly into the grand room.
As soon as I entered, all eyes turned to me, and the room was drenched in complete and total silence.
Not knowing if the quiet was to be expected or not, I continued walking swiftly, but as my eyes met the expressions of some of the people in the room, my stride began to slow as a chilling sense of dread started at my shoulders and cascaded over my body, making me feel heavy, as if I had donned a suit of armor.
Indeed, I was beginning to wish I had.
On the far side of the table, away from the others, was Kimberly with Nelle at her side. They had both changed their dresses and now wore matching cream and rose-colored dresses with high collars and long sleeves. Nothing but the very tops of their necks was exposed.
As soon as I saw them, I knew. I knew before I ever shifted my gaze to Ida’s shocked expression, the look on the face of the King of Silverhelm, the wide-open mouth of his queen, and my husband’s furious eyes.
“Excuse me a moment.” Branford’s dark voice floated over the table and down the hallway to my ears. He stood, tossing whatever had been in his hand down to the table as he shoved his chair back, circled the end of the table, and stalked toward me. I took an involuntary step backwards as he approached and cringed as he reached me, took me roughly by the arm, pulled me down the hallway, and yanked me through the doorway. Once we were in the corridor beyond, Branford turned abruptly, his fingers digging into the flesh of my arm through the sleeve of this obviously inappropriate dress, and hauled me up the stairway toward the private wing of Branford’s family.
“There can only be so many accidents, Alexandra,” he hissed low in my ear. “I don’t know what it is you are trying to accomplish, but we’re going to have to have a little discussion regarding your loyalties.”
And that is when I knew some people truly couldn’t be trusted.
Chapter 9—Profusely Apologize
Branford half walked, half dragged me back to our chambers as my mind whirled. His harsh words under his breath sent shivers down my spine—and not the same kind of shivers I had experienced the night before. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t swallow, and I could barely draw breath. I couldn’t hear every word he said, growling under his breath, but what I did hear chilled my heart.
Scheming.
Traitorous.
Liar.
When we reached the door to our rooms, Branford threw it open and pushed me inside. My body screamed for me to run—either back out the door or at least to the other side of the room—but my mind knew the action would be fruitless. With a push from Branford’s palm on my back, I was jarred against the wall in the morning room.
Before I could turn, I heard Branford’s roar followed by a crashing sound, and I nearly threw myself right out the eastward-facing window. He had lifted one of the couches and thrown it into the wall near the fireplace, breaking off chunks of the wooden legs and causing it to collapse in a heap. I could see his hands grabbing for the small table next to the door right before he flung it toward me. It splintered into pieces against the stone, and I finally found my voice long enough to scream.
“I just want to know how”—Branford snarled as he slowly stalked closer—“how in the world did you do it? How did you get me to pick you? Did Edgar plant nothing but spies in his audience? Tell me!”
He grabbed a large log from the stack near the fire and flung it into the shutters of the window, causing further damage as he marched across the room. He towered over me as I raised my arms up to protect my head and face.
“Please, Branford!” I cried. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”
Branford’s fist slammed into the wall right next to my head, and I screamed again. There was no point in trying to explain—it would have been the same as when the carriage driver had begged for mercy, and there was no one here to stay Branford’s hand. I had no doubt that he was going to kill me.
“Tell me how!” he screamed right next to my head, and I jumped. “And to think I was buying that innocent little servant girl act of yours!”
“No…Branford…I didn’t…I swear…”
“No more lies!” Again, his fist hit the wall next to me, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, but I made no move to stop them. I tried to cover my head with my arms, but Branford grabbed my wrists and held them to my sides. “How did you do it? How did you get past all my senses?”
Before I could even consider trying to either answer his questions or beg for his mercy, a shout from behind him startled me nearly as much as Branford’s own yelling had.
“Branford Sterling!” I heard the Queen of Silverhelm’s voice but couldn’t see her from my position up against the wall. “Get away from her this instant!”
“I don’t think so!” Branford shouted without turning toward the queen.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that was a request, Sir Branford.”
Immediately, the grip on my wrists relaxed. I pulled my arms back up and covered my face with my hands as I tried to turn away from my husband, seeking comfort from the cold, stone wall. I could not turn though, for Branford’s body was still pressed up close to mine, and his rapid breaths blew over the bare skin of my shoulder.
“You hadn’t even shown me this much of you.” Branford’s low whisper burned my ear as his hot, rapid breaths coated my skin and caused me to shiver. My skin went cold as he stepped back, and I dropped to the ground, curling my legs up underneath me and holding my arms protectively over my head. I tried to remember if he was already wearing his sword or if I would have to wait for him to retrieve it before he cut me down. Sunniva’s voice registered in the back of my head, but the meaning of her words didn’t penetrate as I waited for the final blow.
“Have you lost all your reasoning?”
“I’m just seeing the light, Mother.”
“Seriously, Branford? You think inappropriate dinner clothing is a plot against you?”
“It’s not that simple!” Branford yelled. “There was the carriage driver, her behavior when we arrived, and our wedding night…”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“I’m not being—”
“You most certainly are! I don’t know if I have ever been more angry and disappointed in you than at this moment. You keep pushing your wife onto everyone around you and then fly off the handle at her when things don’t go the way you expected!”
“Mother, I—”
“Did I give you permission to speak, Sir Branford?”
“No
…my queen.”
“Then don’t do so again unless I ask it of you. Understood?”
“Yes, my queen.”
“Down! Now!”
Daring to peek from between my fingers, I watched from the corner of my eye as Branford first held the queen’s stare and then slowly dropped to his knees in front of her. He placed his hands, stilled balled into fists, on his thighs and bent his head down. I quickly hid my face again as my heart continued to pound.
“You listen to my words, Branford Sterling, Lord of Sterling, and listen well.” The queen’s voice was low, and I could hardly hear her words. “This has been a complete and total disaster, and there is one person and one person only who is responsible for it.”
“I think I’ve figured that—”
“SILENCE!”
“Yes, my queen.” His words to her were soft, but the queen spoke loud and clear.
“You, Branford,” Sunniva said. “You are responsible for this. You brought a young, lost, commoner child here as your wife and expected her to know how to behave like a princess. You’ve spent no time with her, apart from your nights, and you know nothing about her. It is obvious I know more of her character than you though I’ve spent barely a handful of hours in her company. Did you think she smuggled that outfit in here herself? You presented her to me, covered in mud because she had nothing else to wear. How can Camden and I trust you with the crown—with the leadership of your people—if I cannot trust you to lead your own wife in her new life?”
“Mother, I—”
“I have not given you permission to speak.”
“Yes, my queen.”
I heard the queen sigh heavily. The volume of her words dropped, but the tone remained just as hard.
“This is your own doing, Branford. You’ve practically abandoned her on her own since you arrived. What kind of a king will you be if you can’t take care of the needs of your own wife?”
“She could be a traitor!” he said, and I heard a whimper come unbidden from my throat.
“Branford, in the name of God! Are you even listening to yourself? You chose her from an arena full of maidens! That was your whole plan to avoid treachery, was it not?”
“You knew about…?”
“I know a lot of things, Sir Branford. There is very little that happens here without my knowledge, including what you believe to be your secret meetings to plot war on Hadebrand. I allowed your wedding scheme to occur because it is time for you to take on more responsibility, and I was thrilled you were considering a wife. And now, to see you shirk the duty of her care the very first day is beyond disappointing.”
“It wasn’t a good time for—”
“You will make the time, Sir Branford. In fact, for the next three days, that will be your sole focus.”
“Three days?”
“Yes, because until then, you and your wife will be isolated.”
“What are you saying?” Branford’s tone was incredulous.
“You are going to fix this. You are going to behave like a man and not a spoiled child. You are going to teach your wife about our customs, how we live, what is expected of her, and you are going to teach her about you. You will also learn about her and honor her thoughts and her beliefs.”
I chanced a look from under my arm. Branford remained on his knees before the queen as she continued to speak.
“In my homeland, there was a custom for newly married couples. For three days and nights after the wedding, they were not to leave each other’s company. They would spend that time learning of one another and understanding the person with whom they would spend their lives. We called it the honeymoon, and you and Alexandra are on your honeymoon as of this moment. You are not to leave her side—not even for a minute. You will tell her about yourself, including why you reacted this way tonight. You will explain it to her, Branford. All of it.”
“I don’t want to talk about—”
“I am not interested in your wants, Sir Branford. You created this situation, and you have made a mess of it. Now you are going to resolve it.”
“Resolve it?” Branford took a deep breath, his voice moderately calmer. “I have a tournament to prepare for. I can’t spend three days—”
“I didn’t choose the time of your wedding, Branford,” the queen told him. “You did that yourself, and now you can live with your choices. How do you expect to be able to protect an entire people as king when you cannot protect your wife? When were you going to get around to that? Were you waiting for the timing to be convenient for your schedule?”
“Protect her from what?” Branford cried out. “She’s the one who—”
“If you had looked around the room for a moment,” Queen Sunniva said over her adopted son’s voice, “you would have seen those wretched sisters cackling to each other as soon as you reached the door!”
There was a moment of silence before Branford spoke, his voice now hushed.
“Kimberly and Nelle?”
“Yes. Am I finally getting through that thick skull of yours?”
“What did they do?”
“If you are so good at conspiracies, you figure it out! One look at them told me exactly what happened this evening. Maybe those two whores of yours are trying to find a way to regain your attention. I don’t care what their reasoning is. You can determine their involvement after you take care of your first priority—the girl you’ve got cowering in the corner! She thinks she is going to be beaten or even lose her life at her husband’s hand because those conniving little trollops strong-armed her into wearing that dress.”
She knew. I didn’t understand how she could, but she knew what they had done to me.
“You think they did this deliberately? You think they did this to humiliate her? They would not do that to my…”
He paused, gasped, and for a moment, I could hear nothing but his breathing.
“Yes, Branford. To your wife. Who else thought she had a chance at such a position?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Branford’s voice had become hollow and almost emotionless.
“Who thought she had a chance at being more to you? Who may have let her jealousy get the better of her? I will no longer tolerate her actions in my kingdom, Branford. I expect you to take care of that. I have gone beyond all expectations when it comes to honoring Everleigh’s sister’s daughters.”
“But Ramona was with Alexandra all afternoon. How could they have—?”
“Why don’t you ask Alexandra to tell you? It’s a good place for you to start mending.”
“She did nothing wrong, did she?” Branford’s voice was barely a whisper.
“No, Branford,” Sunniva said. I heard the queen inhale deeply before she continued, her voice now devoid of its previous ire. “Alexandra is a kind, sweet, common girl who needs your care and your leadership. Look at what you have done to her.”
As Branford’s head swiveled in my direction, I quickly hid my face. I heard nothing but his short, clipped breaths.
“Time to make amends, my son,” Sunniva said, her voice finally softening. “Whether it was by accident or not, you chose a fine woman to be at your side, and now you have to talk to her, Branford. You have to give her the chance to know and understand you, and you have to take the time to know and understand her. Did you think marriage just happened by itself?”
“I never thought of it at all,” Branford said. His voice was now quiet and subdued.
“It’s time to start thinking, Branford. I will discuss it with you again in three days.” I heard her retreating steps and the gentle thud of the closing door as she left me alone with Branford. For many, many minutes I kept my hands over my head, waiting for his rage to return with the buffer between us now absent. The only sounds were my muffled sobs and Branford’s labored breathing.
“Alexandra, please.” I heard the shuffle of feet moving toward me, and Branford’s softened voice. “Don’t cry, please, Alexandra. Please look at me.”
I felt his h
and against my shoulder and heard a cry escape my mouth as I tried to jerk away from him, and my shoulder scraped against the stone wall.
“Dear God in Heaven,” I heard him say quietly. “What have I done?”
I felt his hands on me again, and I tried to push myself away, but I was still up against the wall with nowhere to go. I screamed as I pushed against the hands and arms that wrapped around me. Again I wondered if his sword was clasped to his belt or if he would need to retrieve it. I futilely tried to make sense of what I could recall of Queen Sunniva’s words, but I was too overwhelmed to understand what all of it meant. Branford couldn’t have been on his knees. I must have imagined it.
“Please! Don’t kill me! Please, my lord! I didn’t mean to…”
“Oh no! No! Alexandra, no…please don’t think that.”
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”
“Alexandra, shh…hush now.”
I felt myself being lifted from the floor and realized I was cradled in his arms. Where would he take me? Would I die tonight? Would I first be paraded down the street to an executioner’s block? It was only after a few steps that he stopped and stood still. I could not fight his grip, so I gave up instead. I fisted his shirt and tucked my head into his chest. There was no comfort there as tears flowed freely down my cheeks, but I had nowhere else to turn.
“Don’t hurt me…” I heard myself repeat the phrase as I felt my body rise slightly, and then it was lowered, and I realized Branford had climbed into the bed and now held me across his lap.
“Never, Alexandra. I won’t harm you. You are safe.”
Safe.
I had no idea what such a word meant any longer. Back in Hadebrand, I had at least known my place and what was expected of me. I acted the way a servant should and rarely needed any kind of reprimand. Here, having done nothing against them, the nobles were willing to harm me at their whim. Though before I had felt safe being held like this in Branford’s arms, he had left me alone when those two women had come for me. His arms were still warm and strong against my back, but I could no longer believe they would offer security.