Of Loss and Love: chapter five
Love is a friend, a fire, a heaven, a hell, where pleasure, pain, and sad repentance dwell
[Richard Barnfield]
One long month had passed since the day I had been publically proclaimed Queen Consort of Genevere and although I had been told in advance that the next few months would be particularly difficult, I had not at all expected the sheer loneliness these long days would entail. Though Julian had been released shortly after my wedding, Frederick had not allowed me to see him at all, claiming that it was not part of the agreement that he had made with my uncle. Instead, upon his release, Julian had been taken by carriage straight to Asinya, after which I had not heard or received a single letter from him or my uncle since.
As I sat alone in my quarters recalling the past month of seclusion, I laughed inwardly at the countless moments I had spent telling myself that my decision to marry was for the sake of my family. What family, I wondered? None of them seemed to even care for me and recalling the sacrifice that I made for them all made it hurt in a way that I could not explain.
The sudden sound of giggling coming from outside made me stand from the armchair that I had been occupying and approach the window. I looked out to see that the laughter had come from Frederick’s three young daughters, Gabriela, Francesca and Maribel, each of whom were lying on the grass, resting their heads on Queen Renata’s lap while she read them all a story. I looked away, the guilt of tearing her family apart still present inside me.
Since arriving at the palace, there had been many occasions where Queen Renata and I had come face to face with one another, over dinner, at court and sometimes when I took my morning walk through the palace courtyard, yet in all three occasions we exchanged no words with one another. I understood her feelings; I only wished that I could pluck up the courage to speak to her so that she could understand mine.
A knock on my chamber door suddenly interrupted my thoughts. “Come in,” I said, turning my back on the window just in time to see Tristan walk in.
“Tristan,” I smiled, pleasantly surprised by his appearance. I had not seen him since my wedding day.
“Lady Rose,” He paused to stare at me for a few seconds before awkwardly clearing his throat and continuing, “Your carriage has arrived.”
“Thank you,” I replied. It seemed so surreal hearing him show me such formalities. “Is the king ready?”
“His Majesty has asked me to extend an apology on his behalf; unfortunately, he will be unable to join you for Lord Berkshire’s dinner party. He asks that I accompany you instead.”
My heart sank at his words, but I tried my best not to let it show in my face. The reality was that I was far from surprised that Frederick would not be joining me tonight, for he had not spoken or visited me since our last encounter at dinner together almost a week ago. He had been incredibly silent throughout that particular meal, looking up at me only occasionally as he irritably played with his soup.
“Any news yet?” he had mumbled at one point.
I had been asked the same question enough times before to know exactly what ‘news’ Frederick had been speaking of.
“No sire,” I replied, solemnly.
I had tried not to feel even remotely disheartened as Frederick then excused himself before storming out of my quarters, for I knew that I was not to blame for not yet being with child.
***
The walls of the Great Hall of Isla Castle reverberated with the sounds of laughter and animated conversation. At the head table, Tristan cradled his goblet looking slightly bored as Lord Berkshire and other bearded and grey-haired nobles drained goblet after goblet and spoke loudly of revolution in the neighbouring Kingdom of Akar, the expected coup that would no doubt follow, and rumours of reform in the Venan Islands.
On the lower tables, I sat with Duchesses and Mistresses, all of whom were with child and did not hesitate to bring up the news every few seconds. All were eager to hear news of whether I too was with child yet. Their facial expressions turned sombre and almost pitiful after I had informed them that I wasn’t. It was as if they, like Frederick, assumed that it was my fault.
“Not yet with child?” gasped one Duchess dramatically clapping a hand to her mouth. “Since His Majesty has so far been – let’s say... disappointed with the male issue we were all hoping one would be arriving soon.”
They were trying to add salt to my wound and unfortunately it was working. I wanted to just simply walk out but that that was next to impossible. Although Frederick chose not to attend tonight, this meal was very important for his reputation. The Berkshire’s connections to Genevere’s royal family spanned out almost four generations. The last thing I wanted to do was to make Frederick angrier than he already was with me by choosing to leave so abruptly.
“Perhaps it is because you’re not receiving enough vitamins in your diet,” suggested one Mistress.
“Or holy water” added another, laughing hysterically.
***
The journey back to Genevere was both long and difficult. Whether it was the smell of wine or the incessant giggling of the women at my table, I was starting to feel slightly nauseous. I knew that I should not let the words of those Duchesses and Mistresses affect me, but I could not help it. As the carriage progressed through the deserted Northern streets, I began to ponder over their words and what my possible inability to conceive could mean for me if it continued any longer. Would Frederick divorce me, or, like Queen Renata, would I be forced to remain in his palace and watch him marry someone else?
“You seem lost in thought, my Lady,” said Tristan. “Is anything the matter?”
Could I trust him enough to confide in him? Tristan was my childhood friend and only companion in Genevere, yet he was now under the command of Frederick. How could I be sure that whatever I shared with him would stay between the two of us and not reach the king’s ears? The answer was that I couldn’t, but I needed to talk to somebody and Tristan was the only person who could perhaps help me.
“You are the closest person to His Majesty," I began. "He loves you like a brother, does he not?”
“Yes.”
“Then answer me truthfully,” I said, looking deep into his eyes, desperately hoping that he could provide me with an answer that would give me the comfort that I needed. “If I cannot provide him with an heir...what will he do to me?”
Tristan immediately turned his head away from me, a look of sudden annoyance spread across his face. Perhaps my question had angered him. I looked away, half-disappointed by his reaction and half-annoyed at myself for even asking in the first place.
Silence fell in the carriage and continued on upon reaching the palace. As the royal guards opened the iron gates, I looked up at the Eastern wing of the palace to see that Frederick’s chambers were still lit. For a moment I wondered what he must be doing at this precise moment, what he must be thinking, but no matter how hard I tried, my imagination availed to nothing. With a heavy heart, I stepped out of the carriage and headed silently towards my quarters.
“Lady Rose,” I suddenly turned to see Tristan catch up with me. He looked down at his feet for a few seconds before looking me in the eyes. “Forgive me for my reaction in the carriage.”
“No, it was my fault. It was wrong of me to ask in the first place.”
“It’s not that, it’s just...” Tristan looked as though he was struggling. “I know that however much I wish, I cannot provide you with an answer to your question.”
“Of course. I understand.”
“What I can offer you, though, is assurance that whatever His Majesty’s decision...I will be here for you.”
I looked up at him questioningly.
“You know that your father, King Théodore, did my family and I many great favours when he was king,” Tristan said. “He believed in me when my own parents didn’t. He’s the reason why my dissolute days are behind me, the reason why I’ve been able to become a Duke and make something out of my life. The least I can do to repay his generosity is to help his daughter in her time of need.”
“That’s kind of you, Tristan, but Frederick will never allow it,” I said.
“Let me worry about that.”
For a moment I stared into his kind green eyes, not knowing what to do or say next. I suddenly felt my heart race inside my chest and it half confused and half frightened me.
“Lady Rosaline...” smiled Lord Richard Wotton, Frederick’s hawk-eyed, greasy-haired advisor. He swept towards us in his long black cloak and eyed Tristan with a look of concerned suspicion. “Your Grace, His Majesty wishes to thank you for accompanying his wife tonight, but asks that I now take it from here.”
For some strange reason, Lord Wotton seemed to have angered Tristan, for he threw him a look of deepest loathing which Lord Wotton returned with an unflinching smile. Several seconds of silence passed between the three of us before Tristan finally lowered his head to me and walked away.
“Goodnight, your Grace,” smiled Lord Wotton as Tristan passed.
Tristan ignored him and carried on walking.
Lord Wotton’s grin remained as he turned to face me. "My Lady, I trust that you enjoyed yourself? Was the Duke of Unis...of good company?"
His tone of voice sent an unexpected shiver down my spine.
“Is everything okay, Lady Rosaline, you look rather pale...” he asked, searching my face.
"I-I’m fine, it’s just been a long day,” I managed to say, avoiding his gaze. “If you'll excuse me, I wish to retire to my quarters for the night."
"But of course..." he bowed, before stepping aside. As I passed, I noticed to my discomfort that his mouth curved into something like a smile.
.................
links to other chapters
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53716.html (chapter 1)
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53746.html (chapter 2)
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53800.html (chapter 3)
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic53888.html (chapter 4)
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic54589.html (chapter 6)
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic55095.html (chapter 7)
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post644335.html (chapter 8.
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/post652505.html (chapter 9.
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic59246.html (chapter 10.
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