A TENSE CONFRONTATION
The morning sun filtered through the window and onto Glenna's eyelids. She was awake already, dressed and seated on the edge of her bed. On the other side of the linen screen, she heard Lady Amabel stir.
“Glenna?” she called.
“Yes, milady?” Glenna jumped to her feet, rushing instantly to the other side of the partition.
In the vast bed, Amabel stretched expansively and leaned back against the pillow. She smiled. “It's good to be back in a proper bed, isn't it?”
Glenna nodded. She managed a small smile. There was a coldness inside her, an ache that she didn't think would go away. What was she going to do about Alexander? And why was Conn being so odd?
“I should open the curtains,” she said quietly, turning away.
“Mm.” Amabel nodded. “Let's have some sunshine.” She slipped out of bed and reached for a soft silk robe, shrugging it on over her lacy nightdress. “Glenna? Is something wrong?”
“Why?” Glenna asked, surprised that it showed so plainly on her face.
“Well,” Amabel paused. “You just seem quiet. I hope aught hasn't upset you?”
Glenna sighed. “I suppose I'm a bit distracted, milady. I think because, well...” she paused. “My lady? There's no way a knight would choose to love me, is there?”
She couldn't believe she'd said it so bluntly. What would Amabel think? To her surprise, her lady looked shocked. She rested her palms on her cheeks, face a picture of distress.
“Glenna! Of course they would!” She shook her head. “How can you even ask such a thing? If someone didn't love you, I would think there was something most odd about them. You're a lovely person.”
Glenna felt her chest tighten with feeling. “Aw. Thanks, milady.” She was blushing and didn't hide it. “But well...I suppose I do wonder. When someone's so sweet and kind and then they're all odd the next moment – distant and remote, like – you have to wonder.”
“There might be some reason why he feels a need to hide his caring.”
Glenna nodded slowly. “I suppose there is, milady.”
She considered telling her about Alexander. Maybe her lady could intercede with someone at the palace, have the man transferred to a new command. No. Don't interfere. Besides – how could you ask her for such a favor? Best keep this to yourself.
“Well!” Amabel countered, smiling. “You cannot doubt his affections, then. So don't. It will all turn out well. Trust me. Now. I shall wear green today. What do you think?”
“It brings out the color of your eyes, milady.”
“Good!” Amabel grinned, radiant as usual. “Now! Let's to breakfast.”
Glenna helped Amabel dress, thinking about her kind words. Her own position was no easier – she was in love with someone completely out of her own circle too. However, she seemed so confident, so assured!
I will try and be more like she is.
They went down to the hall, but it was crowded and Glenna went to the servants' tables. She ate distractedly, looking over at the two long rows of benches where the Guardsmen were eating. She couldn't see Conn.
Mayhap he's on sentry duty, she decided. She reached for the salt and sprinkled some on her porridge – already topped with butter – and took a mouthful. It was creamy and flavorful, but her mind was elsewhere and she chewed distractedly.
I hope I can see him again soon.
As she put back the salt, she felt someone's eye on her. She looked up, the blood draining from her face. Alexander grinned at her from across the hall.
She quickly looked down at her meal.
When she looked up again, he had looked away. She felt her heartbeat return to normal. Maybe he wasn't looking at me. Maybe I just imagined that.
She finished her breakfast quickly, wanting to leave the hall and his presence as soon as possible. “Excuse me.”
Glenna pushed in her chair and stood. She drew her cream woolen shawl around her shoulders and hurried out into the hallway.
I don't know why that man disconcerts me so.
She shook her head. She was probably just being unnecessarily cautious. She walked rapidly across the courtyard and to the upper colonnade. There, she stopped.
In the doorway before her, blocking the entrance to her chamber, was Alexander.
She turned away, but his hand grabbed her wrist. “Sir!” she said, alarmed. “You will unhand me.”
He chuckled. “Make me.”
Glenna shivered. “Let me go,” she whispered. His hand round her wrist was tight and strong, the fingers warm and a bit rough. There was no way she could break that grip.
“Oh! Where's the please? What pretty manners!” He smiled. Then he thrust his bleak, craggy face toward her, making Glenna twist away.
His hand reached out and touched her hair, forcing her face toward him. Glenna went stiff. She couldn't fight him. She had no idea what to do. Therefore, she did nothing.
He pushed his hard, wet mouth over hers and kissed her.
Glenna struggled to break his grasp, to push him aside. However, his arms were around her now and his mouth devoured hers.
“Oh.” He broke the kiss, his pale gray eyes unseeing. “Now that's how a real man kisses, eh?”
“Ugh.” Glenna wanted to spit. She wiped her mouth and backed away. He did not try to stop her. “You're no man at all,” she hissed. “You behave worse than a beast.”
He laughed. Then his eyes narrowed. “You think you can scorn me?” he said coldly.
Glenna didn't answer. She turned and, heart thumping in her chest, walked briskly back down the colonnade.
When she reached the courtyard, she sat down on a bench. The sun shone down, a splash of gold on the flagstones, though it was still cold outside. Here, with the maids drawing water and the sound of birds on the roof, she felt safe. She started shivering.
How dare he touch me like that? She didn't even want to think about it; didn't want to remember the feeling of powerlessness, of numbness. She couldn't have stopped him. That was the most frightening thing: Feeling that helpless.
She drew her knees up to her chest and sat there, huddled in on herself in the morning sunlight. She felt like the world was suddenly not as safe as it had been. Like she was not as safe as she had been.
“Ma'am?”
Glenna jumped. She twisted around abruptly and found herself sighing with relief as she looked into a young man's face. “Yes?”
“Sorry for startlin' ye,” the youth said. “I just saw you and wondered if you were unwell, like?” He gave her a concerned smile.
“No, I'm quite well,” Glenna said quickly. To her surprise, she stood and walked away. “Just a bit cold is all,” she said as she headed into the castle.
She didn't want to go anywhere. She was frightened of going through the upper colonnade alone again, in case he was still there. She knew it was silly – how could she let him intimidate her like this? – but she couldn't help that she was afraid.
If I go down to the kitchens, surely he won't follow me there.
She headed down to the kitchen, keeping in sight of other people as much as possible.
“Glenna!” The cook looked at her with some surprise. “What're you doing down here?” she looked at her with narrowed eyes, almost hostile.
Glenna felt unwelcome. As a lady's maid, she supposed she was unwelcome here. Personal servants occupied a peculiar space somewhere between servants and stewards, more or less resented by both.
“I'm...um...my lady needed a drink to help her sleep,” she lied. “I was wondering if anyone here knew some helpful preparation?”
“Well!” The cook smiled then, hostility evaporating. “I can tell you plenty! Brews is a great interest of mine. If you sit yourself down there at the table, I'll come and tell you all about it as soon as this pie is flavored...”
Glenna smiled. “Thank you.”
She sat down in the warmth of the kitchen, the bustle of the place lifting her spirits as it always did. A big dog lay by the hearth, banked down now to rich orange embers.
“Patches,” the cook scolded. “Git out of it...”
The dog raised his big shaggy head and looked at the woman calmly, then moved to the other side of the fire.
Glenna grinned. She sat and let the rush and bustle of the place soothe her soul.
There were three maidservants behind her, polishing silverware, and the other cook – three worked here at the palace kitchens – was busy making another batch of bread. Glenna watched with round eyes as he kneaded it and then rolled it into bread-rolls with breathtaking ease.
“Now,” the cook said and joined her. “If the lady's too anxious for sleeping, I would recommend a tea of melissa. And if it's that she's restless, why! A brew of valerian'll put her to rights straight away. Chamomile will soothe a worried mind.”
Glenna listened. “What...” she paused. “What would you recommend for someone who's suffering from sadness? From melancholy?”
“Oh!” the cook smiled. “Well! Heart’s-ease is the herb you want for that! It's too early in the season for picking, but, as luck would have it, I always keep a bunch or two about the place. So, if it's hearts-ease you're wanting, just ask me.”
Glenna looked into the homely, flushed face. If only there was a remedy for me, she thought sadly. If a tea of herbs would soothe her soul, she would be glad to try it. “I would like some,” she admitted.
“Well, then!” The cook stood at once, and, smiling, began to set out a beaker and rummage around for the herbs. “It'll take ten minutes or so with boiling the kettle and steeping...so if you're wanting it, best hang about and fetch it while it's hot.”
“Thank you,” Glenna nodded. It was not for Amabel, but for herself. “Can I do aught to help?”
“Oh!” the cook shook her head. “No, lass. Naught around here that hasn't got a pair of hands working on it...except mayhap that pastry-rolling there! Eh! Colla! What're you about?”
One of the maids working at a bench jumped guiltily and set to the pastry with renewed vigor. Glenna looked away, not wanting to embarrass her.
“We just need a little bit of time, now...” the cook was murmuring as she sifted dried leaves into the cup of boiling water. “Take one of these pies with you, Glenna,” she said, pointing to some miniature tarts that had just baked.
“Oh!” Glenna smiled. “Thank you.”
“Not at all. Won't miss one or two here and there...” She winked.
Ten minutes later, armed with a cup of tea and a small tart in a handkerchief in her kirtle, Glenna went upstairs. She was surprised by how she tiptoed across the colonnade. She was badly shaken.
Is he here? She looked around. He didn't seem to be. She felt her heart thudding in her chest, walked briskly across the area and reached the bedchamber. There, she slipped inside and locked the door behind her. Behind the screen, she finally felt safe again.
What am I going to do about Alexander?
As she finished the small, intensely-flavored pie, she thought about the problem. A wild idea occurred to her: maybe the cook could produce some leaves to put into his food. She didn't want to poison him, of course – only make him sick enough that he was transferred into the countryside for a while. She and her lady were not going to be there for much longer, after all.
Which was, of course, the other problem.
What to do about Conn? If all went as planned, she had three days left to settle things. She thought about it and drank her tea. It had a sweet flavor, slightly grassy and warm.
Memories of that encounter with Conn, their first meeting, flooded her mind: so sweet and so sad. She sniffed and set the cup aside, feeling tears run down her cheeks. She knew she should try and blank such memories from her mind, but now that she was alone, they tormented her. Dancing with Conn. The feel of his hand on her wrist. The way they loved to talk together as they walked through the fields. His smile.
She found that she was just as miserable when she had finished as when she started, and put the cup aside with a sigh.
I should just forget about him. I am being silly. Who am I to him? A servant he met at a party. He has likely already forgotten about me.
She stood and went through to tidy Lady Amabel's chamber. Her lady, too, seemed distracted and sad. It was unfair, she thought wretchedly. Nevertheless, for society, they would both be happy.
But society rules all of us, she thought sadly. I might as well think I can fly as think I can flout its rules. It is the way it is, and nothing I or Lady Amabel could do can change it.