Chapter 22 Quiet Confidence #2
The intensity of her words, hissed through her teeth, shocked me. I stammered, uncertain how to reassure her. “I wish… I mean, for you, I wish that were possible—”
“You must tell me what it’s like,” she said vehemently.
“You must fill my mind with stories and pictures and… and the adventures you’ve had, so when I return home and have to face…
that man, I have a place to escape to in my mind.
They can’t steal that from me,” she said with strange intensity, as if she’d been challenged.
“Grace,” I said, taking her hand. “Tell me why you’d marry a man you don’t want—whether he’s old or not?”
“I don’t have a choice. It is tradition I suppose, but an important part of what a noblewoman is born to, don’t you know,” she said bitterly.
“Marriage—only to others of the blood, of course, because the most important purpose is to bear children. An heir and a spare. Boys, to carry the family name.” She looked at me from the corner of her eye.
“My parents aren’t cruel, but what else would I do?
They have given me a great deal of freedom, and now I’m here, twenty-three, already two years past marriageable age, and none of my peers have asked for my hand.
The only one who was interested, told me his mother was scandalized by my spirit.
And the others… well, no one has asked,” she said with a discouraged shrug.
I swallowed hard. “Your spirit?” Grace struck me as innocent, almost to the point of being timid.
Her cheeks colored. “My mother claims I am intimidating with my questions—and that my feelings are hurt entirely too easily. My father claims I’m merely too precious for youth to understand, that the youngsters will regret their decisions later.
But they are older themselves, and worry for my future.
And it is what I was born to do—to bring children into this world,” she said fiercely, as if trying to convince herself of it.
I felt so sad for her. I remembered that pressure, though it sounded like hers was far worse than mine, and I’d thought I would marry a Furyknight and bear children, run a farm with a dashing husband… God, how na?ve I’d been, I thought with a flush of embarrassment.
‘What’s wrong?’ Donavyn asked quickly.
‘I’m well—I’m sad for Grace. She has to marry some old man because none of the young Lords have asked her.
I was just remembering when I felt like…
like a husband and family and farm were my future.
It’s not a noble estate, but… don’t worry.
Just come as quickly as you can. And be nice to Grace. She’s sad.’
‘Be careful, Bren. She may be lying.’
‘I know. I don’t think she is, but I’m watching for it.’
A wash of love and caution reached me through the bond, but I turned my attention back to Grace.
“I’m not sure I agree that your purpose is to bear children, but I do understand that people expect that.
Until I worked with the dragons, my society was the same—though not nearly as grand, of course.
I thought I would marry a young man from a village and have a farm and…
well, I’m sorry that you’re being pushed.
I hope you find a lovely young man who will love you. ”
Grace smiled sadly at me, but turned away again. “The men in my sphere don’t believe in love,” she whispered, then shrugged again. “We are women to bed, or broodmares to breed, and little else.”
I swallowed. So much for the gentility of the high classes! “I’m sure that’s not—”
“Oh, it is, Bren. I assure you. My devotion to books, the stories I make up in my mind, my desire to ride horses and be outside, my questions for the men—and women—on their estates… they aren’t right for a woman of my bloodline.
I am, in all ways, either too much, or not enough.
I have come to accept that about myself. ”
“But—”
“I told you that I envied your life with the dragons—and I do. I wish I could fly. I wish I could be a woman of purpose. But mostly I just wish I could flee. Off to some adventure, some purpose. To use my body for something—anything—other than breeding.” She was mid-sigh when she blinked and looked at me with a small measure of horror.
“I’m so sorry. This isn’t your problem. I shouldn’t have—”
“No! I’m glad that you told me! I just… I wish it weren’t so certain.”
Her lips twisted. “Honestly, it could have been worse. My parents are indulgent sending me here. I panicked when father told me the betrothal was finalized. My mother convinced him to delay the wedding and sent me here for a holiday—neither of them wanted to come. She’s encouraged me to try and find a younger man.
But… well, you’ve seen,” she said miserably, clutching her skirts.
Except, I hadn’t. I knew Grace felt lonely here, but I’d thought it was simply that she was somewhat timid, maybe na?ve, while most of the ladies here were a little bit wicked and salacious.
“So, the women not talking to you—”
“They don’t want to help me to take a Lord off the market,” she said with a small shake of her head. “They exclude me, speak ill of me to their men, and divert attention. And the few that don’t have a woman in their ear show no interest. They find far more proper ladies among the nobility.”
“But, they aren’t proper!” I protested, thinking of all the sidelong looks and innuendo—and sometimes outright sexual banter among the women.
“They are when they’re among the men,” Grace said with a sad smile. “Especially the young, unmarried ones. And they protect each other. I don’t live in the Court, so they see me as an outsider. And… I am an odd duck compared to them,” she said. Even though she smiled, I could see her grief.
“I’m different where I come from, too,” I said carefully, remembering Donavyn’s caution, and being careful not to get too honest with her, though I yearned to. “I know how it feels to have eyes on you that aren’t complimentary.”
Grace nodded and squeezed my hand. “You have a good heart, Bren. I’m glad you found your General. Enjoy him while you can. It’s clear he cares for you.”
“He does,” I said and gripped her hand when she tried to take it away. “But that’s not—”
“No, Bren, don’t make it less than it is. I can see his regard for you and it encourages me. He is not young,” she said with a grimace. “Perhaps… perhaps even with a difference in age we can find… peace with someone?”
I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sure we can. But—”
“Then let’s focus on that,” she said hurriedly, her eyes starting to shine in the corners.
“Grace, I want to—”
“Just be my friend,” she said, nodding at the hedge in front of us.
“Enjoy the festival with me. Share my last days of freedom.” She gave me a glance from the corner of her eye.
“You’ve given me much to hope for, Bren.
And even if it can never be, it is… good for my heart to know that some women in this world can live with freedom. And love.”
I opened my mouth, tempted to tell her more of what I’d experienced than I should have, but just then a group of women stumbled into the clearing and Grace patted my hand, then got to her feet and went to speak with them, obviously wishing to end the conversation.
So, I let her go, but I raised a small prayer for her, asking God if there was any way she could find someone who’d love her like Donavyn loved me.
Who would see her desire for adventure as a benefit, not a burden.
And thanking him that he’d freed me from the tyranny of a liar.
Please, whoever you put in her life… don’t let him be a liar.