October 7, 754
(37 years ago)
.. .. ..
History lessons taught Bessy much more than merely history itself. William came every day while most of the other kitchen hands were off doing other chores, such as errands in Runa or milking the cows. Usually, it was only Bessy who was left - she had become a cook - and she stayed to bake bread and other goodies for later in the day.
One day such as this, when Bessy was alone in the kitchen, she heard the dining room door creak open. She turned to see a nine year old William standing in its wake.
"Good morning, dear," she said sweetly, turning back to stacking plates so as not to drop them. "How did your lessons go yesterday?"
William shook his head. "Not good at all. I forgot everything you helped me learn."
Bessy lifted her eyes to the ceiling in desperation. "You are hopeless, William, dear," she said, meaning it as a joke.
But William looked down. "I'll never make a good king."
Bessy paused before she left her plates setting on the table and came over to William, putting her arms around him gently.
"You have many years before you become king; many years to learn," she said. "And even if you knew everything there was to know, it wouldn't always help you face the very hardest times."
William left his head on Bessy's shoulder. "I wish you were my mother. You would love me like the mothers in the stories I read. Not like my mother."
Bessy didn't have anything to say to this. She could have said, "Your mother does love you," or "Your mother can love you better than the mothers in your stories," but she didn't, because this wasn't true. She had lived in the castle for nine years, and Lavinia had never spent any time with her son at all... she had never loved him.
Bessy, however, loved William with all her heart. And this meant that she couldn't lie to him. Instead, she remembered a rhyme that her mother used to sing to her, and she sang it softly in William's ear.
Some days there is worry,
and sunless, lightless hours.
Some days it is peaceless,
such grievous, saddening dour.
But no, let light in lonely steps;
it may be that tomorrow
will be as sweet, delightful,
as today is bitter sorrow.
William raised his head after a moment, and said as if he'd only just remembered, "Everett's coming next week."
Everett was the Duke of Shermanel's son, and he came to visit every few months. He was William's very best friend... his only friend.
Bessy softly squeezed William's shoulder. "You see?" she said. "It may be that tomorrow will be sweet and delightful, no matter whether today brings sorrow."
He just smiled.
.. .. ..
June 23, 758
(33 years ago)
.. .. ..
William was thirteen when he hurried into the kitchen in the late afternoon, caring little that all of the kitchen hands were there, preparing dinner.
He ran right into Bessy's ready arms and didn't say a word.
It had happened, then, thought Bessy.
Lavinia had been very ill for the last few weeks, and it had steadily worsened. No one had known what to do as she thrashed and moaned in a fever.
By the start of this week, everyone had begun to wonder when rather than if.
Bessy knew that William had barely known his mother at all. Still, at least he'd had a mother. Now, she was gone.
Bessy kissed the top of William's head, and the two of them stood still in the middle of the kitchen while the rest of the workers looked on with sorrow.
.. .. ..
July 6, 758
.. .. ..
It was so quiet in the Great Hall that Bessy thought it, too, might have died.
It was veiled like the mourners that resided in it. Along its usually splendid stone walls were thick black banners, trimmed with thin silver thread.
Bessy stood against the wall, dressed appropriately in a black smock. She looked on as William rose from his seat next to the king and walked slowly towards the coffin at the front of the room.
He set a single white rose on its lid and, for a moment, stood there with his hand on it, as if he were afraid to let go.
It wasn't that he was afraid to let go of the mother who had ignored him, thought Bessy. It was that he was afraid to let go of the hope of a mother that might have loved him.
.. .. ..
July 18, 769
(22 years ago)
.. .. ..
"Good morning, dear," said Bessy as William stepped through the door.
She turned to see him wringing his hands nervously.
"Bessy," said the twenty-four year old. "The date was moved; she's coming today."
Bessy set down her mixing spoon and looked at him in the eyes. "William, you know you will have to marry her no matter how little you want to do it." She walked over to him. "Lift your chin and walk out to her carriage with the pride that belongs to the man I love as a son, and the man she ought to love as a husband."
William's face showed his uncertainty. "But what if she's dreadful?"
"She might be," said Bessy frankly. "Or you may live as happily as you ever could with her, and with her alone."
.. .. ..
June 12, 771
.. .. ..
William knelt, dressed in a thick magenta robe that trailed down the steps.
When he rose again, his head was encircled by a heavy gold crown, embedded with Rokenmeine's beloved gems in blue and red.
"Long live William Hyrum II, king and ruler of Rokenmeine; full power over its riches, lands, and people having been bestowed upon him."
Everyone cheered as they rose and bowed, Bessy loudest of all. For the three months since King Edwin's death, William had been the king, but today was his actual coronation.
Bessy smiled as William turned to see Giovanna smiling happily at him as she bowed with the rest.
YOU ARE READING
The Rugged Edge
Historical FictionPrincess Eloise grew up in a poor, spiritless kingdom under the reign of her step father. She knows that once, Rokenmeine was a beautiful place: abundant, rich, and always full of music. She wants to become queen so that she can restore it to what i...
