I felt warmth, then dizziness, and then the floor of the bedroom I shared with my husband seemed to be rapidly approaching my head.  The words he spoke continued to revolve inside of my head, pushing me further down into oblivion. 

“She is coming here as my concubine.”

As I fell, the dizziness worsened, but before my head hit the floor, I felt Branford’s strong arms encircle me.  Then everything went completely dark.  Though my mind was in turmoil within the blackness, I could still hear his voice.

“God…please…no…”

I still felt Branford’s arms around me though I could not open my eyes.  I felt myself lifted and held against the hard warmth of his chest.

“Why?  Why are You doing this to her? I understand if I need to be punished, but not her!  Not her!”

I felt motion—my body rocking back and forth—still encased within the security of my husband’s embrace.

“I am sorry, my wife…my love…so, so sorry…”

I didn’t know how long my mind rejected all that was around me—the room, the words I had just heard—everything.  I had not given him what he must have.  I had not given him an heir.  Somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, I knew there would be consequences.  I knew something like this was possible.

“Do not punish her so…please, God, please!”

When I was finally able to bring air into my lungs, I slowly opened my eyes.  Branford’s arms were wrapped tightly around me as he sat in our chair and held me against his chest.  He rocked slightly, cradling me like, ironically, a child.  The side of my face was pressed between the palm of his hand and the spot above his heart as he held me and rocked us both.

“Not her…not her…”

Somehow I managed to keep my eyes open, but I was still dizzy, and my vision was blurred.  I looked up at my husband’s face, his eyes cast to the ceiling as he cried out over and over again.  The light from the fire was on his face, and his cheeks glistened.  I reached up and touched his cheekbone, finding it wet.

Never before had I seen my husband’s tears.

His gaze fell to me, and his pain washed through me and merged with my own.

“Please…Alexandra, please,” he said, begging.  “It was not my wish…you must know this…”

“She will come here…to bear your child?”

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, and he nodded once before he opened his eyes slowly.

“Is there no other option?” I whispered to him, and his remorse multiplied in his eyes.

“I did not want this, Alexandra,” he cried.  I felt the pressure of his fingertips against my side.  “If there were any other way, I would seek it. I swear to you!  I do not want this!  I was given no choice!”

I could not find breath in my lungs.

His words rushed through me, chilling me far more than the winter winds ever could have done.  My mind tried to push the words away from me—denying that they had ever been spoken at all.

But they had been.

“Has Camden demanded it?”  I didn’t need to hear his reply—it would be the only way he would have acquiesced.

“He has,” Branford said, confirming my fear.

“What was discussed before I returned?” I asked, knowing I did not truly wish to hear this at all, but I had to know.

Branford took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair.  He cupped the back of my head and pulled me against his chest.  I could hear the muffled beating of his heart below my cheek.

“The need for an heir has been discussed before,” he said, “between Camden and myself.  Edgar has made his thoughts on the matter clear.”

Branford growled out the name of the man who had turned our kingdom upside down over the last year, continually demanding more and more from us.  His constant threats to bring war directly to Silverhelm if we did not comply with his wishes had put him in a position of great power over our king.

“I should have told you,” Branford said, “but I did not want you suffering the dread I have felt since the summer—the first time Camden expressed his concerns that you had not become with child.  I did not want you living with the fear of what could be demanded.”

His grip on me tightened as he continued.

“Edgar has brought it up on numerous occasions.  He enjoys my reaction when he tells me I should have married his daughter, for in his eyes, commoners should not bear future kings.  I have ignored and endured his comments, but as the months went by, he kept repeating them.  He all but demanded I renounce you as my wife and take Whitney’s hand.  I refused to comply.  I will not do that, but Camden and the rest of the court concurred—I must have an heir.  The kingdom is too unsure—too volatile after the loss of the war with Hadebrand.  They need to know the line of succession is not broken.  They must be able to have faith in their king…and their future king.”

I felt his lips on top of my head, and he brushed his hand through my hair.

“Camden is not as strong as he would like others to believe even though he cannot hide it all the time.  He is not long for this world, I fear.  If I take the throne without an heir, it will leave us vulnerable not only to Hadebrand but to others who side with them.  They said it had to be done—that I must have a child—before next spring.”

“Next spring?” I echoed.  It would mean no more than a half-year before Branford has an heir on the way.

“Edgar said again that my clear option was his daughter,” Branford told me.  “I said some choice words regarding my feelings on the matter.  Camden said if I had no other alternatives to suggest, he would command me with a royal decree to annul my marriage to you and take Whitney in your place.”

“Camden?” I whispered as I felt tears finally sting my eyes.  “He wanted this?”

Branford shifted and took my face between his hands.

“He wishes no such thing,” Branford said to me, “but he is also without clear options.  He has fought against this with Edgar over and over again and would not consider such action lightly.  He fears for our futures and for the future of his kingdom.  He has grown to love you, Alexandra.  You know this.  He adores you, as does Sunniva.”

I nodded.

“Edgar told me I had but one choice,” Branford said.  “He said it would be as it should have been from the beginning with Whitney as my bride and eventual queen.  I could not do that.  He has taken so much from us already, and it is because of me that he is in such a position.  I could not let him do that to you…to us.”

“Can we not try again?” I whispered.

“It has been a year and a half, Alexandra.” Branford closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair again.  “Will you suggest to the court we could try harder?  Is that even possible?”

Branford pulled me against his chest, and I felt his lips on top of my head.  I had no words to speak and tried instead to comprehend what I had been told.  It was clear Branford needed to secure his successor as quickly as possible for the good of all of Silverhelm, but why did he take such a route to that end?

“I had no time to really think about it,” he said, his voice again strained.  “I should have, but again, my lack of forethought has harmed us.”

I reached up and placed my hand against his jaw, my fingers working their way into the rough stubble of hair on his neck.  I turned my head to press my lips to his chest where his robe fell open.

“The only other option I could see before me was to secure a concubine,” he finally whispered.  “Your place as my wife would remain secure, and Edgar would not be able to begrudge me the alternative.  I told them I would take Hadley as such, and she would provide us with the children we must have.”

I finally spoke.

“Why Hadley?”

“You love her,” Branford said, his voice husky in his throat.  “You will love the children she bears as if they were your own.  They will be your own.  No one but you will raise them.”

“Does she know?”

“She does by now.”

“Has she any say in the matter?”

“Of course,” he replied.  “And…if you would prefer…if someone else was…”

Branford’s voice trailed off, and his hand left my back to cover his own eyes.

“I cannot believe I am speaking to you about such a thing,” he said.

“What if she refuses?”

“I would not…I will not if she does not agree,” Branford said softly and shook his head.  “But if she does not come willingly, the other option placed before me is Princess Whitney.”

“She would become your concubine?  A princess?”

“No,” he said softly, “she would not.”

The meaning of his words hit me harder than the original news.

“She would only come as your wife,” I said with a nod.  “I would have to step aside.”

“Yes.”  He uncovered his face, and his eyes bore into me.  “You see why I had to think of something quickly?  Please, understand.  They were demanding an answer from me immediately.  I didn’t know what else to do.  I should have spoken to you before—I should have planned with you.  I’ve failed you, Alexandra…”

“No, Branford,” I told him as I took his face between my hands.  “You have done what you thought was best, as you have always done.”

“I cannot do this to you,” he whispered to me, and again I saw a tear fall from his eye.  He tilted his head toward me and closed his eyes as his forehead rested against my shoulder.  “I cannot do this.”

I wrapped my arms around his head, and I held him to me as my own tears began to fall.  I stroked his head as my mind raced to think of how this would come to be.  If Hadley agreed to come here and provide such a service, how would our lives together change?  Would Branford still be here with me in our bed at night, or would he go to her?

How could I bear watching him leave our rooms to be with Hadley?

Then I remembered the times Whitney had come to our castle—to my home—with her sneers and her veiled insults.  How many times had she suggested I was too inadequate to be Branford’s wife?  How many times had she all but said I was unfit for my station and unworthy of the family I now called my own?

I would not give her or anyone the satisfaction of thinking I was too weak to perform my royal duties.  If those duties included having another woman bear my children to continue my husband’s bloodline, then that is what I would do.

As I reached this conclusion, Branford’s sudden outburst startled me.

“I will not do it!” Branford yelled with his voice full of venom.  He stood with me still in his arms, turned around, and lowered me back to the chair before he started pacing the room with vigor.  “They cannot force me to lie with her!  Even if they bring her, I will still refuse!”

“Branford, what are you saying?”

He stopped moving and turned to stare at me.  I could see his gaze darting back and forth as he considered his options.  He took a deep breath and nodded as he came to some kind of conclusion.

“I will take you away with me,” he said softly.  He came back to the chair and knelt in front of me as he glanced toward the door conspiratorially.  “We will both leave Silverhelm forever.  There are many lands far away, and I have skills that would be welcome in any kingdom’s army.  As long as they do not know who we really are…”

I looked into my husband’s eyes and knew he would do what he envisioned.  He would take me from here as he had proclaimed.  I could see it written all over his face.  He would leave his family, his kingdom, his right to the throne, his home, and his duty…for me.

I shook my head slowly from side to side.

“Branford,” I said as I reached for his arm, “we cannot do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because your duty is here, and your people are here,” I told him.  “You said yourself—you will need to take the throne.  In these times, you cannot abandon your people when they need you most.  Could you just leave Camden and Sunniva with no successor?  You might as well hand Edgar the entire kingdom before you go.  We cannot do that.  Your sister’s child will be born soon.  Would you choose to never look upon your niece or nephew?  Would you never again see your sister?  No, Branford, I cannot let you do that.  We cannot leave.”

His expression became crestfallen, and his breathing emerged labored.

“Then what can I do?” he asked.  His eyes pleaded with me to give him another answer—another option—but I had none to offer.  He dropped his head to my lap, turning his face to one side as I placed my hands on top of his head.  My fingers entwined with the soft strands of my husband’s hair.

My husband.

He was now, and would always be, my husband.  No matter what else anyone forced upon us, we would still belong to each other.

My love.

“You can do your duty to your people and your kingdom,” I said softly to him.  “You can father an heir with your concubine, and we will raise the child as ours.”

His head turned slowly so he could look up at me.

“How can I?”

“You must, Branford,” I said.  “You must do this to bring a child to Silverhelm as its king after you.  Even if I cannot…if I cannot bear your child, it still must be done.”

He reached out and worked his arms around my waist, and he held his face to my belly.

“I love you,” I heard him whisper.

“As I love you, my Branford.”

His gaze turned back up to mine.

“Always yours.”

He stood slowly and pulled me up into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest before he turned us both around and sat back in the chair.  He pulled me with him, and I straddled his legs and leaned forward to place my lips upon his mouth.

At first, our kisses were soft and slow, but as I felt his desperation for me grow once again, he moved his hands inside my robe—pushing it apart until our bare chests were pressed together.

Though my mind was still reeling from all that had transpired, my body yearned for him.  My hands could not get enough of his skin, and I pushed his robe from his shoulders so I could feel the strength of his muscles under my palms.  I was hungry for him, and as I rose up on my knees, I pressed my lips tightly against his.

Branford’s hands were under my robe, and he caressed and stroked me slowly but with increasing pressure.  I reached down and pushed both our garments away from our legs, searched and found his hard male flesh.  His mouth opened in a gasp as I gripped him and guided the tip to my entrance.  I lowered myself slowly, claiming him as mine as I gave myself to him.

Our arms wrapped around each other as I pushed down, and he angled his hips up to meet me.  Over and over again we came together as one.  I knew in my heart that this was for us alone, and even if he had to touch another, it would never, ever be like this.  This was us together as we were meant to be.  Nothing and no one could take that from us no matter what happened outside of our rooms.

He was mine.

I was his.

I held his head to my breast as I cried out his name and felt him grip my backside with his fingers as he poured not just his fluids but his heart and soul into me.  I rocked slowly against him as my tears fell down my cheeks, and I felt wetness from his eyes on my skin.  His body shook as he sobbed against me.

“Shh…Branford…shh…”  Again I took his face between my hands and calmed him as only I knew how—with my lips and my tongue and my hands against his skin.  This belonged to me and me alone.

“I love you, my wife…my love…my life…”

“I love you…always.”

After many long moments, he calmed and quieted.  His breathing returned to normal, and his head rested lightly on my shoulder as his fingers stroked up and down my arm.

“I will not give her what I give you,” he said quietly.  “When we are together…it is…it is…”

“I know,” I told him.

“Indescribable,” he finally finished.

He leaned back against the chair and reached up to wipe the wetness from my cheeks.  I trailed a finger over the edge of his bicep.

“Regardless of the muscles in my body,” he said, “you are so much stronger than I.”

I shook my head, but he stopped me with his hands and his kiss.

“You are,” he insisted.

I closed my eyes and rested against the warmth of his body, and he pulled the robe back up around me to warm my back.

 “When will you…when will you…be with her?” I asked with a shudder.

I heard his sigh.

“She will return to Hadebrand for whatever things she wishes to bring to Silverhelm,” he said.  “She should return here permanently in a few days.”

There were many, many questions still in my mind, but considering the state of my husband, I decided not to ask them now.  Perhaps I would be able to speak to Sunniva about all of it before she went to bed for the night.  It seemed the right thing to do but not at this moment.

For now, I would tend to my husband.

*****

Branford had only just left to speak to Camden when Hadley entered the morning room with her head down, and I knew there were tears in her eyes.  She was unable to look at me.

“Hadley,” I said softly, and I opened my arms to her.  She came to me, her sobs escaping as she clung to my shoulders.

“How can you not hate me?” she cried.

“It is not of your doing,” I replied.  “You will be a child of Silverhelm, and you—like all of us—must perform your required duties for the good of the entire kingdom.”

We sat on the couch and hugged each other.  I continued to reassure her, trying to listen to my own words and believe them as I attempted to convince her.  I did not blame her in the slightest, for she was as trapped in this situation as both Branford and I were.

“I can refuse, Alexandra,” she said at one point.  “I can tell them I will not do it.”

“Yes, Hadley, you can,” I told her.  “This is a choice you should not make lightly.  If you find the idea abhorrent, then do not take part.  Even if Edgar threatens to cast you out into the street, you will still have a home here.  But know that if you do not take up this position, then another will.  You have choices in the matter, but I do not.  I must provide my husband with an heir, no matter what the conditions.”

“What would happen to me?” she asked.  “He would…take me?  As he would you?”

“I don’t believe it would be the same, no,” I said quietly.  “But he would not hurt you.  He would be gentle.”

“Do you want me to do this, Alexandra?” Hadley asked.  “Do you want me to…to bear a child…for you?”

“I must let someone do this for me,” I said, though I could barely hear my own voice.  “If I have to choose someone, I would prefer it be you.  You have always been like my own sister, if I had had one, and if anyone has to bear Branford’s child when I cannot, I want it to be you.”

Hadley’s deep eyes widened, and she looked at me for a long time before she seemed to make a decision.

“I will do this, Alexandra,” she said.  “For you, my sister.”

Our arms were around each other again, and even though there were tears in our eyes, they were not entirely due to sadness.  We sat for some time before a slight knock at the door startled me, and I opened it to find Janet, her face grave as she looked from me to Hadley.

“Is there anything I could do for you?” she asked quietly.  “I have asked for supper to be brought to your room in an hour, but is there anything you need before then?  I could make you tea.”

“Thank you, Janet,” I said.  I took a deep breath and looked at Hadley, who sat with her face still in her hands.  “I think that would be most welcome.”

Janet moved to the fire to prepare the tea, and I sat next to Hadley again.  Her tears had slowed but not completely stopped, and I offered her a handkerchief to wipe her face.

“Lady Hadley?” Janet stepped in front of us with her head bowed.  Hadley paled when she heard herself addressed in such a way.  “I made this for you as well.  Lady Alexandra drinks it in the mornings, and it can help calm a person.”

Janet proffered a cup to Hadley with a bright smile.  I recognized the scent of my morning tea and was glad Janet thought to give the same to Hadley.  I nodded to her, and Hadley took the steaming cup from Janet’s hands.

“Thank you, um…Janet,” Hadley said.  She took a sip, and her brow furrowed.  “The taste is unusual.”

“It takes a little getting used to,” I told her with a smile, “but I quite enjoy it now.  I can’t imagine how my days would be without it.”

She took another sip and leaned back in the seat.  We spoke quietly for some time about the more mundane topic of what she would need to bring with her from Hadebrand.  It was not long before a messenger came to collect her for the journey back to Hadebrand to say goodbye to her home.

As soon as I was able, I sought out the Queen of Silverhelm.  I called for her as I entered the garden, being sure to step carefully over the slippery, snow-covered path.  I found her quickly.

“Alexandra?”  Sunniva’s soft voice floated over the bare trees in the garden, and I looked up to see her tighten her cloak around herself as she approached.  I walked up to her, and she waved her hand at me and told me to sit down.  She took the spot beside me, and her arm immediately went around me.  I took a deep breath, and I lay my forehead against her shoulder.

“I have…questions,” I said.

“I am sure you do,” she replied with a nod.

“Where will she stay?”

“I will prepare a room for her,” Sunniva stated.  “It will be on the other side of the castle from your rooms.”

“Branford will…take her there?”

“He…he will,” she said quietly.  I nodded.

“What will she do when she is not…performing her duties?  Will she be required to be at his side?”

“Not at all,” Sunniva said.  “You are still Branford’s wife in every other way imaginable.  You will still hold your position in the court, and you will be at Branford’s side as you have been.  Even when the child is born, he will be considered your son, not hers.”

“Once she has given us a child, what will become of her?”

“The station of former concubine in this sort of situation is still very well-regarded.  She would remain here in Silverhelm as long as she wished.  She could become another handmaid to you or a nursemaid to your children.”

“She may have more than one?”

“She must provide a boy-child.”

I took a deep breath.  Of course this would be the case, for a girl could not take the throne of Silverhelm.  What if she provided a girl child first?  It was a question I did not wish to consider just yet.

“What if Hadley does not wish to continue in such a role once a son is born?”

“She will have many options,” Sunniva assured me.  “Since she will have given birth to the future king, she will be in very high demand as a wife.”

This news, I thought, was the most welcome.  Hadley had feared for her own future, and at least in this matter, she would be more secure.

“What if I become with child?” I asked.

“Before or after Hadley?”

My throat felt tight, and I had to swallow before I could speak again.

“Either way,” I said.

“If you bear a male child before Hadley, her duty would no longer be needed.  She would stay here and would be treated with great respect because of her willingness to serve in such a way.  If she bears a male child first, and you second, your child would have the line of succession.  Her child would have to be recognized separately or not at all—it would be up to Branford to decide.”

“What would become of Hadley and her child if he refused them?”

“I do not think he would,” Sunniva said with a shake of her head.  “But if he did, he would have to decide if they were to stay here or not.  It would be unusual not to allow them to live with their station intact for the service she provided in the kingdom’s time of need even if it was ultimately unnecessary.”

For many moments I sat with my head on my queen’s shoulder, my thoughts jumbled inside of my head.  I tried to sort through the information Sunniva had provided, and I was at least certain that Hadley would be cared for regardless of what happened.

I did not want her to suffer when all she was doing was trying to help us.

I shivered as a cool breeze came from the top of the castle walls, and Sunniva told me we should find a warm fire inside.  I stood on shaky legs, but she assisted me, stopping me briefly before we entered and turning me to face her.

“When I first met you, I knew you were noble in your heart,” Sunniva said.  “Now I know inside of your breast beats the heart that is truly royal.”

“Thank you,” I replied as I bowed my head.  “May I ask you one more question?”

“Certainly.”

“What will happen if Hadley does not become with child by summer?”

Sunniva’s face paled.

“Let us just pray it does not come to that.”

*****

“I do not see how I can do this,” Branford said quietly.  “How I will even be able to…”

His voice trailed off, and he huffed a breath through his nose.

We sat on the edge of our bed as the winter winds began to whistle and moan against the windows.  Hadley had returned to Silverhelm earlier in the day and was now waiting for him in the room Sunniva had prepared for her.  Though I offered to help, Sunniva insisted on doing it herself.

“You will have to close your eyes and think of me,” I whispered back.  I looked away, trying to maintain whatever dignity I had left on this night.

“I am not sure even that will work,” he said.  “The very thought is…”

He closed his eyes tightly and scowled.

“I should not burden you with this,” he said.

“Of course you should,” I said, correcting him.  “I am your wife.  We share all of our burdens, this one most of all.”

He huffed again before looking back to my eyes and reaching out for my hand.  He gripped it tightly and then pulled it to his lap as he ran his fingers over mine.

“One day in the near future, you will take the throne,” I said, “and I will be at your side as your queen.  We must perform our duties to Silverhelm, no matter what they are.  If we will not sacrifice for the good of our people, how could we ask them to sacrifice for us?  How could we ask them to give up the grain they give to feed those on the other side of the kingdom?  How could we ask them to send their sons to die in our wars if we will not do this for them…for Silverhelm?”

“Have we not done enough?” he asked.  “Have you not done enough for your people?  You already endure my presence, regardless of my mood.  You…you are the only thing that keeps me grounded in my duties.”

He chuckled though there was no humor in the sound.

“And here you are, reminding me of my duty again,” he said, “but at what cost to you?”

“The cost to me is less than it would be if I were forced aside for another,” I reminded him.  “This way we will have our child, and I will still be at your side.”

“I do not want to do this to you,” he said again.

“You must do this, Branford,” I said softly as I brushed my lips against his.  “Go to her and create the child we need.  You must do this for our people.”

“You are…so much better than I,” he whispered.  “How can you bear this with such grace when I can hardly contain what this is doing to me?”

With my fingers placed just below his jaw on either side of his face, I tilted his head to me.

“Branford,” I started to say, attempting to use a tone I thought would be most convincing—a tone most like Sunniva’s, “sometimes I need Janet’s help when lacing up a dress, especially some of the fancier ones you enjoy the most when you take me out onto the dance floor and show me off to visitors.”

His expression was confused, but he nodded.

“Would I have been less dressed if Janet had not helped me?”

“Less dressed?” he questioned.

I obviously was not making my point clear enough.  I tried again.

“Do you recall the Harvest Celebration this year?”

“Of course.”

“Do you remember what I wore?”

“Very much so,” Branford said, and a hint of a smile returned.

“All those laces and ribbons!”  I smiled at the memory.  “The gold and black interlaced with the browns and oranges of harvest.”

“You were stunning,” he whispered as he reached up and stroked my check once.

“You found me beautiful?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Branford said with reverence.

“Even though Janet had to dress me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t even reach the very first of the laces,” I told him, “and there was no way I could have attached all those ribbons myself.  Janet spent several hours making the dress look right on me.  Did you realize that?”

“Not so much, no,” Branford said.  He was confused again.

“Was I less attractive to you because I could not have worn it had it not been for Janet’s help?”

“Of course not!”

“So needing Janet’s help did not matter?”

“It did not.”

“Then if I brought you a child that Hadley helped us to bring into the world, would you love me less for not bearing it myself?”

I could see understanding in his eyes as my words began to resonate, and once again I noticed wetness glistening in the firelight, twinkling in his bright green eyes.  His breath hitched in his throat, and I could see him swallow before he spoke.

“Never,” he whispered.  “I will always, always love you.”

“And you will love the child I bring to you even if he does not come from my body?”

“He will still be our son,” Branford whispered.  “Ours.  Yours and mine.”

“Yes,” I said, “he will.”

With a slight nod, Branford stood slowly, his hand still grasping mine as he started to walk away, our fingers still touching until the last possible second when he took the step that brought our caress apart.

I did not try to control my tears as the door to our room closed softly, and I was left alone.  I sat on the edge of our marriage bed and stared at the candle burning on the table next to me until I could see nothing but dim glowing light, and my eyes ached in their sockets.

I reached over and doused the light with the tips of my fingers, feeling the slight burn on my fingertips as I extinguished the flame.  I lay sideways on the bed, my head resting against my husband’s pillow, and inhaled the scent of him.  Unable to ebb the flow of my tears, I pulled his pillow tight to my chest and pushed my face into it to muffle my cries.  When I had no more tears to cry, I closed my eyes, refusing to think of what was happening in that room on the other side of the castle, and begged sleep to take me.

And that was when I performed my greatest sacrifice for Silverhelm.