The White Rose

The King and I, Silver Ridge Palace

I awaken to rain on the mullioned windows, the fire blazing and my mother sitting by my bed. When I open my eyes she says, "Kathlynne, i mean, your Grace." "Mother." I say sitting up among the pillow feeling much better, "you should lie back now." She says softly pushing me back among the pillows, "Please." I say, "I am much improved." She smiles, "the court has been praying for you and the king." the door flings open with a bang and footsteps ring against the marble floor, "Kathlynne, my Kathlynne is she?" Mother rises to her feet. "Where am I?" I ask, "I am not in the maid's chambers." "Certainly not." Says mother, "You are in the royal wing of the palace, where a Duchess is supposed to be." She sinks into a low curtsey, white gown furling around her like a sail, "Majesty." She says and he nods for her to rise. She stands and he takes the seat she's been sitting in and takes my hand, "I would not know what to do if you." He seems overcome with feeling. "they thought you dead." "No majesty, sleep is all I needed I think and." My stomach rumbles and mother comes over with a cup of broth and a cup of tea and a few pieces of bread.
I devour it all as he holds one hand, his eyes never leaving mine. "I would be lost without you my Kath." "Oh Majesty." "Gande." He says, "you will call me Gande." "Gande." I say blushing a little, "You are recovered?" He asks, "Yes I am recovered." I say as a servant takes the tray away, "Much recovered." "Will you then walk with me in the gardens?" "I should bathe." I say, "Yes-indeed." He says as one of the king's men comes in. The king rises kissing my hand, "Come for me, I will be in the throne room listening to men natter on about taxes." With that he leaves.
Bathed and much refreshed, dressed in a gown of blush pink silk, my hair braided and stuck with jewelled pins I walk down the halls of the palace toward the throne room. the guards open the doors for me and I walk in amidst crimson velvet carpets, gold sconces, the thrones and the people dressed in court clothing. Whispers of, "That's the Lady." "Did you hear how." I walk forward, trying to remember that as a noble I was allowed to be here. I walk up the steps, the wide, wide steps covered in crimson velvet carpet and sink down, kneeling before the king. "Rise Duchess Kathlynne." He says, all wreathed in smiles, his jewel covered doublet glittering in the light from the high windows.
rising I stand, bow my head and clasp my hands before me. He nods to me, "Come and sit near me. He barks, "Stool." And one of the pages brings forth a stool for me to sit on.
When he's done with his business he takes my hand and we go walking, my hand on his arm. We walk through the gardens and he says, "i am having part of the gardens planted with white roses, in your honour." I smile, a bit-overwhelmed by all this attention. "Majesty Majesty the ambassador from Greywalde has just arrived." "For the Gods Sakes!" He yells, "Kathlynne, i must go." "You are the king." I say, "Wait for me here will you?" "But of course Majesty, I can wait." He nods, kisses my hand and hurries off. I'm standing in the gardens, a little filled with day dreams when I hear it, the sound of a sword being drawn. In the court of the king no man save his favourites may wear a sword. The man is one of the noblemen of court, but not a favourite of the King. He rushes forward, "You will not marry his majesty." "Please!" I say and guards rush in, their black uniforms like a shadow against the flowery background. the man can fight. But I stand frozen. "Your Grace." Calls one of the court Ladies. Then I notice it, not a deep wound, but a flesh wound in my side. Its bleeding a little and when she rips that part of the gown only a thin line shows. "He nicked you." She says. then the bellow of the king is heard as the guard nearest delivers a wound to the man's leg. "This man, Marquess Sandalt attacked the Duchess." Says one of the guards, "See there, a wound." "Arrest him." Says the king as the Ladies hurry me back inside. The wound is washed and cleansed then wrapped up. "The king is furious." Says mother, "He's black with humour." The King rushes in and gathers me up, careful of my wound, "Oh Kathlynne if he'd killed you." "But he did not." I say simply, "Still you must away from here, once the fiend has been executed." Says the King, "To Brierley." My face falls, "Again away from this glittering court. "It is for your safety." "I must make it plain that you are my choice." "We cannot wed until next Spring, but you are my choice." He says softly, his eyes fierce upon me. "I shall have you back for the midwinter feasting."  "We will have gowns made for you, the Queen's chambers redecorated, jewels given you." "By this time next year, you will be my Queen, my love, my joy beside me." "the Gods will it so." I said, a little shyly.