The Broken Crown

Chapter 54

Jeffroy

 Winter arrived quickly that year, just as quickly as its twelve moons had passed. A dozen battles had been fought since the battle at the Sisters, in which Lord Alex had died, and while the rebels had not won more advantage, neither had the King. No soldier was eager to go to battle any longer, especially not in the winter months and especially not in the North. The rebels, who were already in the North, were even less eager to go to battle, and a peace treaty had been signed.

 Lucretia was not happy with this, as it was clear for any man to see. She had paced around in the beginning, but now she lay most her days in bed, too weak to stand. The sickness had spread from the wound and had now taken her right leg. As it spread, the skin darkened, almost as though it was rotting away; as though a dark forced had taken hold of her insides and spread, like the dark purple poison, through her veins.

 “Don’t be silly,” she ordered when he expressed his worries. “We did no sin, thanks to you.”

Her anger upon finding out that Adrianne was still living and breathing had been a frightful thing. He had told her of the symbol, that the sun had darkened, and she had told him not to read too much in these symbols. It was not until he reminded her that the Sun Himself had darkened in those moments that she seemed to remind herself of something. She had forgiven him, then, as though suddenly remembering something that redeemed him completely.

 “There is a letter,” he told her, retrieving the parchment that had arrived earlier that morning. He handed it to her. He hated to see her like this, covered in dark skins, with her dark hair no longer brushed back tightly to reveal the ancient beauty of her face. She was withering away, he knew, and he wondered what he would do once she was gone.

Her dark eyes skimmed the letter. “Thomas Renell wishes to remarry,” she said, before she was finished reading.

His name was no longer Renell, but Tingley. After the death of is wife and children that summer, when they had been attacked on their way to sanctuary, he had taken the name of his wife’s family to honour her. His love for her was great and many thought he would never marry again. However, he would need an heir and quickly, before he himself fell to the swords of the rebels.

Lucretia gasped and Jeffroy was pulled out of his thoughts. “He wishes to marry a daughter of the Bad Family.” Jeffroy moved closer to her, reaching for the letter so that he could see for himself but she ignored him. “He calls her by name – Caterina Eriksdóttir, named after the old Northern traditions.”

“Except she is named for her ancestor, not her father.” Lucretia glared at him and he reached for the letter. After reading it, he said, “He asks for permission, but I fear he thinks of it as only a formality.”

 “His brother married her sister,” Lucretia said.

 "Cousin,” Jeffroy corrected her. “It says here.” He pointed at the words in the letter.

 “How many are they in that sanctuary?”

 “Many generations,” he mused. “It is worrying, however, that they name themselves after the old traditions. Naming her the daughter of Erik will most like bring up many supporters to their family, especially when they have a seat within two great families of the North.”

“One. One great family,” Lucretia corrected him. “We cannot allow it. He must be able to see that.”

“Why not? You allowed his brother to take a wife from the Bad Family. Besides, he may have sent a letter to you, as a symbol of respect, but no doubts your son has received another one, and your son has too much love for Lord Thomas to reject him, especially after losing his wife and heir.”