CHAPTER EIGHT
A HEART SO DEAR
It was a conversation he never thought he would have.
Something like a dream; he’d fantasized about it a thousand times but ever thought he’d ever actually have the opportunity to live that dream.
Now, his life was complete.
In his shed out in the kitchen yard, Rhogan sat on his bed of straw, with just a woolen blanket for warmth even in this freezing temperature. The cook had given him an old brazier that no one else in the castle used but he often didn’t have the fuel for it, so it sat like a block of ice next to his bed as he rested there, reflecting on his conversation with Juliana. He may have been freezing on the outside but, on the inside, his heart was exploding with warmth.
Love.
He’d cried through the conversation. He could admit that now. Her voice was so sweet to his ear, her manner so soothing, that it broke down the hard shell he’d developed over the years.
When Juliana had first come into the yard, he’d been caught off guard just like everyone else. In fact, he’d resisted the urge to run, fearful she would realize who he was and see what he’d become. But the ensuing conversation had been quite unexpected – it was evident that she had no idea who he was and she had been concerned that those two fools had been taunting him when he hadn’t even noticed. He’d long learned to shut people like that out. But Juliana had chased them away, like a champion, and he’d stood there like a dolt, unsure what to say or do when everyone else seemed to flee. When they had all gone and he’d been the only one to remain in that yard, alone with Juliana, the realization had jolted him into action. He’d tried to flee, too, but she wouldn’t let him.
He was trapped.
Yet her soft and gentle heart had been concerned for him. She wanted to speak to him and he’d had no choice but to remain. But in hindsight, he was glad he had remained, even if he had been fearful the entire time that she would realize to whom she was speaking. But she hadn’t, which wasn’t entirely surprising considering the physical change he’d gone through. Rhogan had been wholly amazed when the conversation had somehow drifted to the subject of “him”.
At least… he thought it was him. A friend who had run away, who had been injured. How they got onto the subject, he didn’t know, but they had. He had no idea how Juliana had come to discover his injury and he’d very much wanted to ask her, but his questions were silenced. He couldn’t ask her and not give himself away. Had it been his father, who had been in France trying to convince him to come home when the accident had happened? Or had it been any number of messengers or soldiers moving between Kerkrade and England? Somehow, someway, she’d been told.
She knew of his plight.
And, oh, her words! Some people live in your heart forever. Even after she’d known about his injury, all she had conveyed to him was hope and kindness towards the friend who had been injured. There had been no disgust, no anger, simply concern and longing. He could hardly believe his ears but, in the same breath, he truly wasn’t surprised. That was the Juliana he knew – a kind, forgiving woman he’d wronged so terribly.
Yet… she seemed to hold no bitterness against him.
God, if it were only true. If he could only believe that she truly had no animosity towards him over a stupid mistake. Speaking hypothetically about someone was completely different from actually confronting him, but from her words, Rhogan was almost willing to hope, for certain, her forgiveness was genuine. Perhaps God had brought him back to Selborne for a reason; in this most holy season, of Christmas and blessings and compassion, perhaps this was his Christmas blessing.
The blessing of forgiveness for a mistake that changed his life.
As the afternoon moved into night, Rhogan sat on his cot with his mouse friends as company. He was teasing them with a bit of straw as his mind wandered to the days before the princess, days when he’d been a powerful and respected knight, and the entire world had been at his feet. That night at de Winter’s Christmas feast had been the most pivotal night of his life. The night he’d decided to marry Juliana.
The night he decided to destroy his life.
In fact, as Rhogan thought on that cold and snowy night, he realized that it had been exactly four years ago on this very night. The Ides of December. Four long, sometimes terrible years ago. But his encounter with Juliana tonight had been enough of a Christmas gift to last a lifetime; he didn’t need sausages or baubles or nuts or toys to make him happy. He didn’t even need a warm bed or a warm home. He didn’t need a thing except knowing Juliana didn’t hate him.
Now, he had his answer.
Out in the kitchen yard, the cook was beginning to carve off pieces of the roast sheep, which was something he normally did and Rhogan could hear the woman calling. Torn from his thoughts, he left his mouse friends to amuse themselves on this icy winter’s night and left his shelter to go into the kitchen yard where a great fire sent heat and smoke and the smells of roasting meat into the dark night. Shorthanded for servants, the cook had him take the bigger chunks into the hall.
And that was when things got interesting.