The Cruel King and The Captured Queen

Chapter 2 - Part 2 -Cold nights

Our family sleeping quarters were small, several beds in one room branching off the main of the hut. Silently, I sat curled up looking at the book the Traveller had gifted me. The cover is beautiful, such delicate leather, smoothed by gloss. The bindings creased from many reads, clearly the Traveller enjoyed this novel greatly. I flip open the small book to find a title on the first page: Art of Swordsmanship. Perusing the writing, I see that it dispelled brutish action into a simple set of footing positions. The art form of battle turned into a dance as I read through.

The front door opens, and my father enters the hut. Exiting the sleeping quarters, I see him settling down at our kitchen table. His curly brown tendrils clinging to his forehead from sweat. Another long day in the late summer sun has caused my stout father to perspire as usual. With determination, I sit myself down across from him. Nervously, I fold my hands in my lap unsure how to start this discussion I knew we needed to have.

Father watches me silently. When he realizes I haven't the courage, he starts, "I have spoken with Chadwick."

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I mumble, "Are we still wed?"

"Of course, I rectified your behaviour," he shames me. Of course, Chadwick had made this my fault. I should have gone to find my father first thing and defend my case immediately. Leaning forward I place my now clenched hands onto the table.

"My behaviour?" I question angrily, "He slept with a whore! They bore a child!"

My father sighs exhaustedly, "Your temper, Claire." My clenched fists settle slowly, and my father watches till I've calmed. "It is what got us into this mess after all."

"Sorry, Father," I sigh out in defeated frustration.

Reaching out he takes my hand in his. Smoothing my worries with a rub of his thumb over the tops of my hand. "I understand your feelings, Claire, this isn't the best of situations," looking towards the door as if my mother would come through the door at any minute, he continues, "Men will be men, he has you now though."

"Father, the child will shame me," I whine. Looking down at our hands I think of a way out of the marriage. "They will wed, I should leave."

Father chuckles lightly, his belly rumbling in light of my situation. "You are not shamed, a bastard is a bastard from birth. The time to rectify that woman's reputation is long gone. No man of title, not even a vassal, would dare wed to such a reputation."

This affair did nothing to disturb my father, he acts as if its a comical event. An event that dares not affect me, as if I am above all of this behaviour. As a daughter, I may be his property, but Chadwick has disrespected his property. "How do you expect me to wed into this reputation?" I try and remind him.

"Do not forget all we have given up for this opportunity. You are a beautiful woman, and yes it has been the reason for our new fortune. Mind your lessons, I paid for them to do you good."

My lessons? My lessons taught me many things, about ethics not how to remain calm while my betrothed whores himself around. "My lessons give me a good sense of judgement against this man."

My father suddenly raises his voice at my continued argument, "This man laid with her far before your looks fancied him. You have an obligation to this family, never forget that." He stands abruptly off the stool both hands on the table, and his head held high with pride. "Tucket's stay true to their agreements, do not dishonour this family. This is your chance to benefit the family, show us great pride."

Tucking my hands back into my lap I stare down fearful of my anger towards my situation shining through. Pretending to be ashamed of displeasing my father is a simple act, though I am upset I have let him down. It is still my anger for never being given the choice of who I am to marry that has my rage surfacing towards my own family. "Forgive me, Father."