Chapter Seven #3
Curtis was careful in his reply. “They will not hold you responsible for that,” he said. “My lady, I am going to try to explain this to you, so listen carefully. It is important.”
“Go on, then.”
He did. “My older sisters are both married to men who had lives before they joined our family,” he said.
“Neither man was perfect. One man… Well, he is a trained assassin. Alexander went on crusade with King Richard and earned himself a fairly nasty reputation. In fact, my father did not want him for my sister at all, but she loved him… and once he became her husband, we all grew to know the man beyond the reputation. He is one of the finest men I know. So you… If you give my family the chance, they will look beyond the Welsh rebel and see the woman beyond the reputation. They will want to like you. You must give them that chance.”
Elle’s hands were on her cheeks as she thought of that very shocking prospect. “I cannot even imagine that,” she said with sincerity. “And you? What relationship am I to have with you? Do you want to like me, too?”
He grinned. “I hope so,” he said. “But you must give me the chance. You must look beyond the English knight and see the man beneath.”
That was an astonishing bit of advice and insight. Her hands came away from her face, and she looked at him with as much honesty as he had seen from her since the beginning of their association.
“I do not know how,” she said. “I am what you see. I do not know anything more than what you see. And I do not know how to see more than I already do.”
“Are you willing to learn?”
She thought on that. Hard. After a moment, she nodded decisively.
“Aye,” she said. “I am. But you said something yesterday that holds true for me, also. I am willing to give you my trust if you ask it. But if you betray me, I will run, and I will never come back. We are being forced into a marriage, but if it does not suit me, then I will not stay. If you betray me, you will not see me again.”
Curtis understood that because he’d said nearly the exact same thing to her. “Then I was not being harsh after all?”
Elle heard her words in his reply. “Nay,” she said, knowing he was right.
“You were not being harsh, but truthful. I made a pretty speech about people making mistakes, but in the end, I suppose you can only trust what you know, and if someone gives you a reason to mistrust them, then you must protect yourself.”
“That is very true,” he said. “But I will make you a promise—I will endeavor to never intentionally betray you. Will you pledge the same?”
A commotion at the tent flap interrupted the conversation.
They both turned to see Melusine being brought in by a soldier.
The moment Melusine saw Elle, she let out a scream and ran to her, flinging herself at the woman.
Elle was nearly toppled by the force of Melusine’s momentum, struggling to keep her feet.
“Melly!” she gasped. “Melly, you are alive! Praise the saints!”
Melusine was hysterical. “You are alive, too!” she sobbed. “I was so worried for you!”
“I am well,” Elle assured her, pulling Melusine away so she could look her over. “Are you truly well?”
Melusine nodded, but she was still crying. “I am,” she said. But once she got a good look at Elle in the blue gown, clean and fresh, her weeping stopped unnaturally fast. “And you… What are you wearing? Why do you look like this?”
Elle quickly grew embarrassed, eyeing Curtis before answering. “My clothing was ruined,” she said honestly. “I had nothing else to wear, so Sir Curtis gave me this dress. It belongs to his mother.”
Melusine drew back, appalled. “What did you have to do for the dress?” she demanded. “He would not give it to you without recompense! What did you do?”
“Nothing!”
“I do not believe you!”
Furious at the suggestion, Elle slapped Melusine across the face as hard as she could.
Melusine stumbled, shrieking, before she struck back.
In seconds, a slapping fight was occurring right in front of Curtis, who stepped in quickly to defuse it, but not before being slapped himself.
He ended up pushing Melusine back by the forehead, so hard that she stumbled and ended up on one knee.
“Enough,” he snapped, holding out a hand to Melusine to prevent her from charging. He had Elle by the arm, and he looked at them both. “If you two cannot behave like proper ladies, then I will make certain that you are separated for good. Do you comprehend me?”
Melusine was angry, but she forced herself to pause. She didn’t fly off like she normally did, before thinking. She pointed a finger at Elle.
“What have you done to her?” she shouted at him.
Curtis wasn’t happy with the woman’s tone or her behavior. “I gave her one of my mother’s dresses to wear,” he said steadily. “And if you ever speak to me in that tone again, I will ensure you never see your cousin ever again. Tell me you understand, or I will assume you do not.”
Melusine was quivering with anger and a retort was on her lips, but she held herself in check. She was finally where she wanted to be—with Elle—and didn’t want to immediately ruin it.
But it was a struggle.
“I… I understand,” she said.
Curtis’ eyes narrowed. “Any further bad behavior and you will be gone,” he said, lowering his voice to a steady rumble. “This is your only warning.”
Melusine struggled to calm herself, lowering her head, but Elle suddenly pulled herself from Curtis’ grip and charged her cousin, pushing her over onto the floor. Curtis managed to grab Elle around the waist as he bellowed for Westley, who suddenly appeared.
“Get this woman out of my sight,” Curtis said, indicating Melusine. “Take her out of here now.”
Startled, Westley rushed to Melusine, who was picking herself off the ground. He grabbed the woman by her arms, and she started to fight him. Westley dragged her, hissing and kicking, out of the tent as Curtis maintained his hold on Elle.
“Let me go,” she said, trying to pry his arms away from her torso. “Let me go this instant.”
“I will not,” Curtis said in a tone that could have very well been construed as seductive. “Not until you gain control of yourself and tell me why you slapped her. This whole incident was your fault, you know.”
Elle stopped struggling, but her face was molded into a deep frown. “You heard her,” she said. “She thinks that you… that we… that I traded favors for clothing. She cannot get away with that.”
Curtis suspected that might be the case, and he fought off a grin. “She does not know me,” he said. “She does not know I do not trade favors with anyone, at least like that. If I did not give you the dress, you would be dressed in your skin and nothing more. That is hardly dignified or proper.”
Elle sighed heavily. “Melly does not consider that some men have honest hearts,” she said. “Especially the English. I suppose she came to the only reasonable conclusion she could.”
“But?”
“But I still won’t let her get away with it!”
He chuckled and released her. “I think she received your message, loudly and clearly,” he said. “But in the future, a princess of Powys does not attack people when she does not like what they say.”
Straightening her dress, Elle turned to look at him. “Don’t you attack people who say things you do not agree with?”
He shook his head. “It would have to be quite serious,” he said. “It is called controlling one’s impulses. There are things we would all like to do immediately, like slap a cousin with a wicked tongue, but often that does not solve the problem. You should have controlled that impulse.”
Elle was coming to understand what he meant. “You mean I should have asked her to clarify her statement before slapping her?”
He snorted. “Something like that,” he said. “Mayhap simply asking her and not slapping her.”
Elle grunted. “She deserved it.”
Curtis cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure she did, but next time, mayhap just ask her instead.”
Elle shrugged. “Will you bring her back now?”
Curtis shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “I need your undivided attention, if I may.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to ask you if you would show me Brython,” he said. “You would know it better than anyone, and I would appreciate you as my guide.”
It wasn’t a surprising request, but she didn’t think he would have asked her so soon.
The defeat was only yesterday, after all.
But it occurred to Elle that Brython now belonged to him, and he was viewing it as a prize he knew nothing about other than it was strategic.
There was no heart or soul buried in it like there was with her.
Resigning herself to this relationship she would soon find herself in, she wanted him to understand that Brython wasn’t just a pile of rocks to lay claim to.
It was much, much more.
“As you wish,” she said after a moment. “But before I show you, I am going to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“About Brython and why the Welsh believe it is a special place.”
He nodded as if to concede her point. “Very well,” he said. “Go ahead. I am listening.”
Elle paused, thinking on how she would start the story but quickly realizing there was only one place to start.
At the beginning.
“Do you ever wonder why we fight so hard for Brython, my lord?” she asked.
Curtis shrugged. “It is strategic.”
She shook her head. “That is not why,” she said. “In truth, it has nothing to do with strategy and everything to do with our history. The fact is that Brython is sacred.”
“Why?”
“Because it sits upon an ancient gate,” she said quietly.
“The gate to Annwyn. That is the Otherworld, where our heroes dwell. It is a place where our greatest prince, Powell, lives. Someday, he will rise again and free Wales from the tyranny of those who seek to rule us. Mayhap he will not rise tomorrow, or even in one hundred years. But we believe he will rise again, and we wait for that day. Meanwhile, we must protect the gate.”