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The Concubine (Unexpected Circumstances #5) Page 6
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“We have been over this time and time again—”
“Whitney is your rightful wife!” Edgar shouted suddenly. “She should be at your side in the eyes of the public, and she has the fortitude to both stand as queen and bear your heirs. Look at Margaret, who has borne me four children. Whitney is of the same stock, and marrying her will secure the independence of Silverhelm in the future.”
It was Branford’s turn to laugh.
“Independence? With your daughter on the throne beside me? Perhaps I didn’t study enough, but I am not a fool, Edgar.”
Edgar chuckled low.
“We shall see who is the most foolish in time, shall we not?”
“More threats?” I heard Branford sigh. “I grow tired of these meetings.”
“There is a sure way to end them.”
“No. There has not been enough time. Either my wife or my concubine may be with child as we speak, and this topic will be moot. I have not reached my deadline.”
“You have exactly one more month,” Edgar said with deadly calm. “If you have not both taken the throne and secured an heir at that time, you will denounce your marriage to the handmaid and marry Whitney.”
“And if I do not?”
“Then my soldiers will be at your gates the next day,” Edgar said with certainty. “And once they have secured this place for Hadebrand, I will personally make sure any woman not of true noble blood be placed upon her back for my army’s pleasure.”
There was silence for a moment, and I felt my own blood chill within my veins as Edgar sneered his final words before leaving.
“I will be sure to take a few turns at her myself.”
A moment later, I heard the door to the hall slam shut. I was not sure if I should reveal myself and let Branford know what I had overheard or not. He could very well be angry with me, for he did not care much for my habit of eavesdropping on conversations. I would usually confess to him eventually, but I had also learned from Sunniva of the many places one could learn valuable information if one were just to stay there without being noticed.
Yes, Branford would be angry, but I also knew Edgar’s words would have upset him, and he needed me. I moved from my place near the end of the stairway and went to his side.
“You heard,” Branford stated simply.
“Yes.”
“I will not let that happen.” Branford’s voice was calm and sure. For the first time in many, many seasons, I could see the fire of determination in his eyes. “I will not let him harm you, no matter what. If I have to give up everything, I will make sure you are protected.”
And that was when I knew Branford’s love for me was not lost.
Chapter 4—Humbly Rectify
Though he had been gone several minutes, the echo of King Edgar’s threats hovered throughout the chamber. I knew Branford was completely serious when he said he would protect me at all costs. I also knew that sometimes the desire to protect was not enough, and the thought made my blood run cold. King Edgar was an evil, obsessed man, and he would not stop until Silverhelm was completely under his control. If he could not rule by subterfuge, he would overtake by force. If that happened, God help anyone who supported our kingdom.
With his eyes still full of fire, Branford turned to gaze down upon me as his hand reached out to take mine. He pulled me closer to him and simply stared at me for some time. We may have stood there until nightfall if a messenger had not appeared in the doorway.
“Sir Branford, the queen requests your presence in the king’s chambers,” the messenger said.
Branford looked at me, and I reached for his arm with my free hand. We walked together in apprehension up the narrow staircase to the royal chambers. When we entered¸ I saw Sunniva at her place next to the king’s bed, her hand placed lightly on his arm. Though she had spent most of her time in this room since Camden had been bedridden, she had barely moved from that specific spot in days.
“Mother?” Branford said softly as we approached.
Sunniva’s gaze turned to look upon us, and there was no question as to why we were summoned. King Camden slowly rolled his head to one side, and his ancient-looking eyes fell to his adopted son. Branford released my hand and went quickly to the side of the bed as Sunniva stood on shaky legs and walked slowly to me.
I reached out and touched the queen’s shoulder. She looked at me, her eyes red and swollen though her expression still was stoic. She tried to give me a small smile, but it faltered immediately.
“I knew this day was coming soon,” she finally whispered. “We have known for months, have we not? But to know it is here…that his time has gone from weeks to days to hours…I am not sure I can do anything to prepare myself.”
Her voice broke on her last word, and I dropped my hand to take hers. She gripped me and ran her fingers over the back of my hand for a moment.
“At least I know I was loved,” Sunniva said softly. “How many queens can say that?”
Her smile broadened though her eyes brimmed over with tears. I reached for her and took her in my embrace. Over her shoulder I could see Branford with the king, their hands gripping each other’s forearms as Branford leaned close to listen to Camden words.
Sunniva slowly released me, and I stayed close to her with my hands holding on to hers. She gestured with her head, and we stepped to the far side of the room to sit on the couch there, still hand in hand. The queen took a long, slow breath and attempted to gather herself. She looked to the men at the other side of the room.
“We are lucky, Alexandra,” she told me, “to have such men to love us.”
I dropped my gaze to my lap, wondering if there was still truth in her words. My expression must have given away my thoughts.
“What is it?” she asked.
I shook my head, and her grip on my hand tightened.
“What is it, Alexandra?” she repeated. “You are troubled.”
I looked over to the other side of the room where Branford sat with his adoptive father and felt my own tears trying to make their presence known. I blinked them away.
“Sometimes I wonder,” I said softly.
“Nonsense!” Sunniva scoffed and tilted her head to one side. “Branford adores you. Whatever would make you say such a thing?”
“He has been…distant,” I told her.
Sunniva’s eyes widened with understanding. For a moment she said nothing as she processed my words.
“Because of Hadley?” she finally asked.
I could only tilt my head in a noncommittal response, for I did not truly know. Despite his pledge of protection, I did not understand what was happening inside my husband’s clouded and overburdened mind.
“That is when it began,” I said.
“What has he done?” the queen demanded.
I looked to my husband, then back to my queen. The look in her eye told me there would be no refusing to answer her inquiry, so I told her. I dropped my eyes to my lap as I told her of Branford’s distance and his avoidance of me. I told her how he had barely been in my presence these months and had only in the past few days allowed me close enough to him to take care of his needs. I even told her that though we had been in the same bed again, he had still not touched me in the way I so deeply missed. Not since…not since he first went to Hadley’s room. Even though he had bathed me, and we had lain in our bed with our bodies close together, he had not taken me in the way a husband takes his wife.
The look on Sunniva’s face when I finally looked back up was similar to the one I had nearly pushed from the memories of my second night in Silverhelm. It was the expression she wore the night she had chastised Branford on his knees for his treatment of me.
“I am sure he did not mean it,” I said quietly, suddenly fearful of her wrath even though her mind was still on her husband’s final moments.
“I am sure he is more foolish that the most adept of jesters!” Sunniva shot back. She inhaled deeply and then let the air out through her nose over several seconds.
Her hand patted mine as her eyes shot over to Branford. “I will be speaking to him of this.”
“Please, Sunniva—”
“I will be speaking to him!” she repeated with force.
I dropped my gaze in submission, trying to decide if I was glad she would speak those words I could not or terrified of how he may react. What if he had decided he no longer loved me as he once did? What if he still protected me only out of obligation? I closed my eyes, trying to block those thoughts.
“Alexandra?” the queen said softly, and I looked back at her. “I have been so…preoccupied with Camden’s health these months. I should have seen what he was doing. I should have known what was happening, and I should have suspected it, yet I did not. Can you ever forgive me for my neglect?”
“There is nothing to forgive,” I replied. “You could not have known, and your duty lies here with Camden.”
“My duty goes far beyond his care,” she said. “I cannot ignore the rest of the kingdom in my sorrow, and I know you are aware of this. I should have recognized Branford’s behavior and fixed this long ago. Please, forgive me.”
“Of course.” I nodded, knowing it was better to accept her apology than to argue the necessity of it.
We both looked at Branford as he stood from the side of the bed, and Camden’s hand dropped against the mattress. Branford walked slowly toward us, and Sunniva’s eyes went wide.
“Is he…?” she croaked.
“Sleeping,” Branford said with a slow shake of his head. “But he is in much pain. The sickness has made his breathing shallow. I do not think…”
He did not need to complete his sentence.
Sunniva nodded, and her eyes brimmed over with tears again. Branford sat on her other side and took her into his arms as he looked at me, his eyes pleading. I did not know for what but thought perhaps he only desired the impossibility of changing what was happening.
If only I had such power.
Branford released his mother and stood again, motioning for me to follow. As I stood, he told me the hour was turning late, and we should retire to our rooms. I had not realized it was well into evening time. We had spent nearly the entire day in this room.
“A moment with you first,” Queen Sunniva said pointedly to Branford. He glanced from her to me and back again.
“Of course,” he replied with his tone questioning. “Alexandra, I will join you shortly.”
I could only nod and walk away with trepidation in my heart, knowing full well of what our queen wished to speak. I walked slowly back to our rooms down the hall, noting Dunstan’s presence not far behind me and offering him a half smile and a nod. I closed the door as I entered and leaned back against it for a moment as I tried to rein in the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
Sunniva was telling Branford what I had revealed to her.
Edgar had threatened me personally with grave harm.
Camden was dying.
I wiped at my cheek with the back of my hand and steeled myself against my thoughts as I performed mundane tasks to avoid such thinking. It would serve me no purpose now. I put a kettle of water next to the fire so I could make Branford’s tea when he returned and perhaps even shave him if he so desired.
I wished Amarra’s pups were old enough to leave her so she could return to our room. I missed her constant presence here. I brushed away the hair that had collected on her cushion, and fluffed it up before placing it back on its low platform.
I sipped my own tea, presumably prepared by Janet. It was cold from this morning and bitter tasting. However, I knew my monthly pains were greatly reduced by the drink, so I drank it down quickly before busying myself around our rooms. I straightened the linens on the bed and pulled together the pile of clothing near the changing screen so it could be collected and washed. By the time Branford returned, the rooms were nearly spotless.
I looked at him as he entered the room and closed the door softly behind him. His gaze was downcast and his pace slow as he crossed the room. He did not meet my eyes, and I felt the same feeling of near dread as he took my hand and pulled me away from the fire. He positioned me in the center of the room and released my hand. As he had years ago, Branford slowly lowered himself to his knees before me.
“Alexandra…” he started to say, but his voice faltered. He looked at the ground, then back to me again before he swallowed hard and continued. “I never…I did not understand…”
His eyes widened as he stared up into my face, and I saw his tongue dart out to moisten his lips.
“Did not understand what?” I asked in a whisper.
“What you need from me,” he replied. “I think constantly of your needs, but I only understand…I know what your body needs. I provide for you—make sure you are protected. It is all that has crossed my mind these months—what I must do to protect you!”
His eyes beseeched me, and I brought my hand to cover my mouth at the pain I saw there. I tried to reach for him, but he would not accept my touch.
“I thought…I thought you must hate the sight of me…” He reached up and gripped his hair with his hands and dropped himself back to sit upon his heels.
I started to reach for him again but stopped as he stared at me.
“No,” he then said, and shook his head rapidly. “That is not true. I hated myself for what I had done. I could not bear to look at your face because…because…”
He shook his head violently as he shoved himself up from his position on the ground and walked away, slamming a fist into the wall. I cringed and closed my eyes, waiting for his anger to subside.
“Because I was afraid!” Branford finally cried as he turned back around to face me. “I was afraid of what I would see! Afraid to see the loathing I feel for myself reflected in your beautiful eyes.”
He dropped his hands, and his arms hung loosely at his sides.
“I am a coward,” he whispered.
“Branford…no.” I took a step toward him.
“I am,” he said. “I’m a coward and an idiot. Alexandra, please…hear me out.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and nodded.
“I have hurt you,” he stated. “It was not my intent, yet it happened anyway.
“You barely spoke to me,” I replied as I turned my head and closed my eyes tightly.
“You would not have wanted me here,” he said quietly. “I have been…”
He stopped and sighed heavily, approached me, and dropped back to his knees. I looked down to see him once again and reached out to touch his rough cheek.
“I wanted you here,” I said. He shook his head.
“I am…” Branford paused, and when my fingers brushed his face, I could feel his jaw clenched tightly. “I am afraid. Afraid for you. I brought you into my world to insult King Edgar, and insult him I have, but he does not intend to take the insult out on me and my army. He plans to take it out on you. I have put you in terrible danger out of arrogance and lust for revenge.”
He grasped his thighs as he looked up into my eyes.
“I never should have brought you here,” he whispered vehemently. “You are in peril, and it is my fault! I am to blame! How can you look at me, knowing I did this to you? Now that you know what he will do if I do not have an heir soon or if I refuse Whitney next month—he will not just…just kill you.”
He stopped speaking abruptly, and I could sense the pounding of his heart in his chest and see the panic in his eyes.
“I did not want you to hear him speak such things,” he said.
“He has said worse,” I said, presuming.
“He has.” I saw and felt his anger blaze in his eyes. “I will not allow you to be touched, my wife. I would…I would sacrifice my kingdom before I would allow that to happen.”
“Branford, you cannot—”
“I can!” His eyes blazed. “I would sacrifice all of them before I would let him touch you!”
He closed his eyes and tightened his hands into fists against his legs. He t
ook several breaths before he looked up at me again.
“And I will protect you,” he repeated. “Though my mistakes have been many, still I have not failed you in regard to your physical safety, for at least this is something I understand.”
He looked away again, trying to gather his thoughts.
“But what Sunniva told me…the ways I have failed you that I did not even consider…”
I wanted to reach out to him, for I hated seeing him like this in front of me. It was not his place. He should kneel to no one. I wanted to tell him as much, but as he looked at me, he again begged me with his eyes.
“I was hiding from myself, Alexandra,” he said,” not from you.”
I shook my head, not understanding.
“I did not even think that you might feel that way,” he said. “When Sunniva told me, it was clear, but I do not know of these things. I know how to provide and protect you; I do not know how to make sure you are happy. I only knew I was miserable, and if I was near you, I thought I would make you miserable as well.”
“I wanted to be there for you,” I whispered. “I knew it would be difficult…for us both…but you would not give me the chance to comfort you.”
“Why would you want to?” he asked. All of his anger was gone. There was only pain and confusion left. “It was my choices—my war—that brought us to this. Why would you offer me comfort?”
“You are my husband,” I whispered and felt my tears fall.
“But I caused this,” he said again. “I thought it would be better for you…”
He shook his head again.
“I am still lying to myself,” he muttered. “It was better for me, so I did not have to see in your eyes what you thought of me and what I have done. I have practically delivered Silverhelm to Edgar on a silver platter with my selfish desires.”
“You didn’t know,” I said to him. “His armies came from nowhere.”
Branford’s gaze darted to mine and then over to the door. He seemed about to say something and then silenced himself. He reached out, and I placed my hand in his.
“Alexandra, please forgive me for being so utterly ignorant,” he said. “I did not think how my actions would appear to you or understand that it is not only your body I must provide for but also your mind and heart.”