Chapter 14 #2
King Edward appeared almost as surprised as Damien had been, the scowl he’d worn thus far replaced by something much more open and assessing.
The queen seemed to be biting back a smile, and Piers looked interested, while Hugh’s expression was so black that Damien was surprised not to see thunderbolts shooting from his eyes.
“Is that so, lady?” King Edward said at last, though he spoke in a much less commanding tone.
“Aye, sire,” Alissende said gently, her head still bowed.
“Are you willing to affirm to Us, God’s appointed on earth, that you are with this man you have taken to husband for a reason other than that of attempting to avoid Our choice of Lord Harwick for your new lord and master?”
That question rang out over the assembly, and Damien felt himself tense.
Would Alissende be able to lie successfully?
Self-preservation hoped she would, and yet the part of him that still remained of the principled and unbending sword-arm of God decried the practice, knowing that falsehoods almost always led to something destructive.
“I do affirm that, sire.”
Alissende’s voice sounded far more steady and sincere, if that was possible, than that which she’d used before, and Damien once again could not resist a slight shift of his head so that he might glimpse her from the side of his gaze.
It was fortunate that he had trained from childhood to master his outward reactions, for though he had thought Alissende finished with what had proved to be a very convincing deceit, she still had more to say, it seemed—and when he heard it, it might have otherwise made him sink to his knees.
“As many in this chamber are aware, Sir Damien de Ashby and I first loved each other long ago, when I was but a maid and he a new knight. It is true that we parted badly, but our reunion has brought me great joy, and it is for such reason I am with him now, within the bonds of this marriage begun in proxy four months ago. Once more I beseech you to forgive the seeming impetuous action that has caused us to fall into your disfavor, for it was committed out of love and not disrespect to Your Highness.”
A hum of reaction sounded behind them in the great hall now, dispelling the silence, and through his own surprise Damien saw King Edward glance back at Hugh, who looked down at the floor of the dais in response, as if bowing his head.
However, rage crackled from every inch of him, making it clear that this was not over for him. Not in the least.
“And what have you to say about all of this, sir?” the king called out to Damien, once he faced the assembly again. “We have heard something of you and wish to know if you have aught to add, after having taken such a fine prize into your possession, without a by-your-leave?”
“Nay, sire,” Damien responded in a low but firm voice.
His jaw clenched tightly for a moment as he resisted the urge to glare at Hugh, reminding himself not to rise to any challenge but to simply say what must be said to remove himself and Alissende from the tip of the dagger.
“What my lady has said covers all. We both humbly ask your pardon for our hasty union, undertaken in so much…emotion.”
King Edward’s mouth tightened and then relaxed. He waved his hand in exasperation, saying quietly, for them and those within their immediate vicinity, “Very well—though We will remind you both to tread very carefully in future. Our good humor in this is at an end.”
More loudly, for the sake of the entire assembly, he added, “While We were astounded and dismayed to receive word of your union, unsanctioned by Us, We have no choice but to show Our obedience in yielding to the only authority greater than Ours—that of God and His bride, the Holy Mother Church in the form of the sanctioned and legal proxy taken up between you. Go in peace with your king’s reluctant blessing. ”
Alissende curtseyed again as Damien bowed, and then they moved from the reception area before the dais to the main portion of the chamber, hearing the herald call out the name of the next tourney combatant and his lady for their greeting by the king.
It was over. It did not seem possible, but they had made it through without catastrophe.
Damien led Alissende forward, looking for a quiet spot along the wall.
He was surprised that it wasn’t very difficult, given the number of people in the chamber.
Coming to a stop near one of the long trestle tables that had been placed around the room to hold various delicacies, he released Alissende’s hand and faced her.
“You did well.”
“Thank you.”
She sounded subdued, and he studied her for any sign of how she felt about the interview they’d just endured. She looked strained, perhaps, but that was no doubt from the obvious reason of having felt the sting of the king’s wrath.
“You were very convincing,” he continued, still fixing her with his gaze and wondering if she would reveal anything of her motivation in speaking as she had. Wondering how he would feel about it if she did. But she remained silent, glancing down to her clasped hands.
“I was impressed, lady,” he said after a moment’s pause. “You have either become a very fine liar, or else you—”
Her gaze snapped to his again then, cutting off the rest of his words an instant before the shield of her lashes came down; but he had seen her beautiful eyes for long enough that he could swear that he had seen the answer to his question there, and he felt the sweet impact of it down to his toes.
By all the saints…
“We say what we must, Damien, when it is expected of us,” Alissende murmured at last, so low that he almost couldn’t hear her, with the sounds of conversation and music that had resumed in the chamber.
“That is all it was, then? You said only what you felt compelled to say?” he asked, unrelenting. He drew her gaze to his again, holding it and feeling somehow irritable and relieved all at once by her answer.
A softer, troubled look slipped across her features. “Damien, I—”
“Pardon, sir.”
Damien and Alissende both turned to look at the serving lad who had approached them unnoticed.
He wore the king’s livery, but Damien did not remember having seen the youth before.
That was not unexpected, of course, considering the number of attendants the royal entourage contained, but even more than his sudden appearance, the lad seemed nervous, glancing back and forth between Damien and Alissende, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed several times in quick succession.
“You are Sir Damien de Ashby?”
“Aye. What do you seek with me?” Damien asked, frowning.
“I come bearing a message, sir, from one of your men-at-arms, Sir Reginald. Your tourney mount suffers an ailment, and your man entreats you to come posthaste to the stables, lest the steed be unfit to carry you through tomorrow’s events.”
“What kind of ailment?” Damien scowled at him, and the lad went pale.
Concern and doubt warred within Damien as he waited for the boy’s answer.
His gelding had served well in training these four months, and when he had left the horse only a few hours earlier, he had seemed as fit as he had ever been.
“He said not, sir,” the lad said, swallowing convulsively again. “He offered only that he would not interrupt your evening but for the dire need of the moment.”
Cursing under his breath, Damien looked at Alissende, seeing his own concern reflected in her serious gaze.
“Go,” she said before he could say aught. “I will return to our pavilion to await news.”
He scowled more deeply, liking this less and less.
It was not far from the main keep to the tilting grounds and the field where all the combatants’ silken tents were pitched.
The path would likely be well lit with torches and far from deserted, with the number of ranking combatants in attendance here this week.
But he still hated for Alissende to go anywhere without escort.
The serving lad looked as if he was ready to jump from his skin in his eagerness to be gone, now that his message had been delivered, but Damien forestalled him a moment longer.
“What is your name, lad?”
“Simon, sir.” The boy crushed his soft cap between his fingers and seemed to be shifting his weight back and forth.
“Here, Simon,” Damien said, reaching into his leather side-pouch to retrieve a coin. “Escort my lady back to our pavilion, whilst I attend to the problem in the stable.”
“It is not necessary, Damien,” Alissende protested softly. “None will hinder my progress in returning to our tent.”
“Nonetheless, I will see you protected at all times.”
In case this is a trap, set by Hugh in an effort to separate you from me.
That part of the statement, left unspoken, echoed between them, prompting Alissende to nod her head at last in wordless concession.
“Go swiftly, Simon, and do not diverge from the path to the pavilion field, lest you earn far different recompense from me than the coin I have given you just now.”
“Aye, sir—I mean, nay, sir, I will see your lady nowhere but straight to your tent and the attendants that await her there.”
Damien nodded, touching his finger briefly to Alissende’s cheek, only breaking his gaze with her reluctantly. He did not like this, but he had little choice. He could not compete in the tourney tomorrow without a mount.
Wanting to get this settled so that he could return to Alissende’s side as swiftly as possible, Damien turned and strode through the clusters of people in the chamber, earning more of their stares as he made his way out into the dark of the yard that led to the stables.