I cried out as I watched the puddle of mud come closer and closer to me.   With my feet tangled in my skirts, I could do nothing to stop myself except to put my hands out and hope for the best.  Of course, I fell flat on my face.  For a moment, I couldn’t speak or even breathe as water splashed all around me, flying up into the air and coming back down to land all over my back.  I pushed up with my hands and coughed as water dripped from my face and hair and then back into the puddle where it started.  A thousand thoughts went through my head at once, starting with whose dress I might be wearing and how I was ever going to get it clean to finishing with wondering if Branford might decide to dismiss me, based on my propensity for accidents.  I was so stunned and mortified, I couldn’t even answer Branford when he called to me.

“Alexandra!”  Branford cried.  “Are you hurt?”

I just coughed in response.

“Alexandra!” he called again.  “Have you been injured?”

“No, my lord,” I finally managed to mumble.  Injured, no.  Horribly embarrassed and feeling about as small as I could be, yes.  I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, and Branford grabbed me by both of my arms, easily lifting me to my feet.  I was drenched in dirty brown water, and the dress I was wearing would surely take hours to clean.  I chanced a look into Branford’s eyes.  They were blazing hot green, and I could only imagine this was what someone’s eyes looked like when they were actually seeing red.  I thought I could feel his hands shaking slightly as they gripped my upper arms.

Branford leaned close to me and ran his thumb over my cheekbone, which he had done several times now.  I was not accustomed to having a man touch me in such a way.  Indeed, I didn’t think anyone had ever touched me in any similar way, and I had rarely been touched by a man at all.  It was a strangely tender action, and I didn’t know exactly what to think of it, especially when he was obviously so angry.  I only knew it sent strange and unfamiliar tingles through my skin where he touched.  He gripped my arm tightly with his other hand, likely afraid I was going to lose my balance and embarrass him further.  I remembered our talk from our wedding night, his expectations of me and how I was to conduct myself in such a way as to not shame him.  I had only been in his kingdom for a matter of minutes before I had failed.

“I’m sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean to—”

“Hush,” he said with a growl, and I obeyed.  “Are you sure you are all right?”

“Yes, Branford,” I said softly, looking into his green eyes as they looked upon me.  He used his fingers to wipe the water from my face and smooth out my hair.  “I’m fine, thank you.”

“We’ll enter around the back.”  He took a step backward and gave me a small smile, his eyes softening somewhat.  “Parnell can find my sister, and she’ll get you something else to wear before you meet Camden and Sunniva.”

“I would like that,” I said and sighed softly in relief.  I could not imagine what the King and Queen of Silverhelm would think of me if I met them for the first time in a muddy dress, as if I hadn’t done enough to humiliate Branford already.

Branford ran his fingers through my hair once more and straightened it before he leaned down to brush his lips against my forehead.  Then he turned quickly, his eyes going instantly dark again.  He walked with purpose to the front of the carriage, reached up with one hand, and yanked the driver from his seat.  Holding the man by his collar, Branford pushed him against the front of the carriage and drew his sword.

“Have you no skills with your horses at all?”  His voice was a low snarl in his chest.  He placed the tip of his sword at the driver’s throat.  “Can you not control them?  Do you see what you’ve done to my wife?  Get on your knees!”

The poor man dropped to his knees in front of Branford, begging forgiveness and mercy.  Branford yelled at him to be silent, and the man dropped forward, his palms to the ground.  Branford took a step back and raised his sword.  I suddenly realized his intent—he was going to kill the man for my clumsiness.

“Branford, no!” I cried out.

“Alexandra, stop!” I heard Sir Parnell’s voice but paid him no heed.  I ran to Branford’s side and wrapped my hands around his sword arm.

“Please, Branford!” I begged.  “It was an accident—please!”

I felt his hard, tense bicep muscle under my fingertips as I gripped him as hard as I could.  I could feel his arm shaking under my fingers from the exertion of staying his hand.  I knew if he decided to swing, there would be no way I could stop him, but I kept my grip regardless.

“You could have been hurt,” Branford said, his voice cold and hard.  I could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke, not taking his eyes from the prostrate man at his feet.

“I wasn’t,” I said, reminding him.

“That doesn’t change the fact that his carelessness could have injured you,” Branford said.  “I’ll not have anyone cause you harm!”

“I’m fine, Branford, please,” I said again.  “Please, don’t do this.”

For several, silent seconds, Branford’s gaze flickered from the driver to me and back again.  He didn’t move, save the motion of his chest as he breathed heavily.  I wanted to beg him, as the man at his feet was begging him, silently with my eyes, though I didn’t know if he could read the plea in my expression.  Finally, Branford took a step back and his arm dropped.

“Be thankful to the lady,” Branford commanded the carriage driver.  “She saved your life.”

Branford pulled his arm easily from my hands and stalked back toward Parnell, sheathing his sword as his purposeful strides took him near the castle gate.  The driver grasped me around my ankles, thanking me over and over again, swearing his life to me if I should need it.  I stepped back, disengaging myself from his hands.  He tilted his head up to me, tears still in his eyes.  I took another step back, but the driver grabbed for me again.  I didn’t want this…this…I didn’t know what this was.  This man was like me—a servant who lived and potentially died at the whims of those nobles above him—and it was my clumsiness that had endangered his life.  He shouldn’t be thanking me; he should be infuriated with me.

“Alexandra!” Branford called without turning to look at me.

“Yes, my lord,” I responded automatically.  It was hard to draw air into my lungs as I took another step back and turned to walk as quickly as I could to catch up with Branford and Sir Parnell.  Branford immediately reached for me and grasped me firmly on my arm, pulling me close.

“We will talk of this later,” Branford said into my ear.

“My lord, I only—”

“Later!” he growled.

I tried to keep my nerves calm as we walked swiftly under the huge portcullis which served as the main gate, Branford’s hand still on my arm.  He veered to the left, toward a stone hallway and staircase, but before we got there, we were approached by a boy in messenger’s garb.  He ran up to us, and Branford glanced over his shoulder to speak quickly to him.  “Tell my uncle we will meet with him shortly.”

“King Camden said he wants to see you immediately upon your arrival, sire,” the messenger indicated.  “He was quite clear on the matter.”

Branford stopped short and growled under his breath.

“You are just going to have to go as you are,” he said, glancing quickly over my mud-stained dress.  “It doesn’t matter, anyway.  They will understand you fell.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed the words, especially considering my husband was about to execute the man he thought responsible for my clumsiness.  What if Branford told them the driver was responsible, and King Camden demanded his life?  One look at Branford’s face told me I had already taken too many chances today, so I remained silent.  Of course, he didn’t even know of my eavesdropping and nearly disloyal internal ramblings.  Again I considered confessing what I heard though now was certainly not the right time.  I looked down at my splattered outfit and cringed.  If I had to meet his uncle in my current state of dress…well, there was nothing I could do about it.

We turned again, and Branford dropped my arm as he followed the messenger down a large corridor, lit with torches along the grey stone walls.  Banners like those from the wedding reception hung evenly spaced down both sides of the corridor.  Long before we reached the end, I could see two massive wooden doors looming ahead of us, stretching from the floor to the high ceiling.  As we approached, the guards on either side met in the middle of the doors and pulled them open.

“They are currently holding court,” one of the guards told Branford after bowing low to him.  “They are all in the main hall.”

Branford nodded his acknowledgement and glanced over his shoulder to me.

“Walk behind me on my left,” he said quietly.  His lips turned up in a smirk as he glanced toward the heavens.  “God be with me.”

I moved to walk a step behind his left shoulder, figuring this was something I could at least do correctly.  Sir Parnell moved to stand to his right, and Branford led us both through the gigantic doors and into a grand hallway with incredibly high ceilings.  Both sides of the hall were filled with people—all in clothing far too spectacular for anyone other than a noble.  I continued to follow dutifully behind my husband as we entered the grand hall and made our way across the woven carpets of black and gold.  I kept my eyes on the ground, partially because Branford had not divulged to me if I should look up, but also because I could feel the eyes of all in the court as they stared at me.  I didn’t want to be able to see their looks as well.  I could only imagine what they must think, for my mud-stained dress made me look exactly like what I was—a dirty commoner who had no business being here.  This was a place meant only for the likes of me if there was cleaning required.  I tilted my head down, and my hair fell across my shoulders, effectively hiding at least part of my face from the onlookers.  Unfortunately, that did not stop my ears from hearing some of their hushed words.

“Who is that?”

“What is she doing here?”

“What happened to her clothes?”

Though it would have been more in my nature to blush, I instead felt all color drain from my cheeks, and my stomach was quite uneasy.  I glanced up just a little—peering off to one side as we approached the king and queen of Silverhelm.  There was a small set of stairs at the end of the hall leading up to the dais where the king and queen both sat on their thrones.  Aside from the many nobles standing to one side of the hall or the other, a small, dark-haired woman stood next to the Queen, her eyes glancing quickly from Sir Parnell to Branford to me.  There were two other women standing just to the bottom of the stairs with mouths agape, their eyes boring into me unabashedly.  One had beautiful, straight, silver-blonde hair, while the other’s hair was a more golden hue.  They both had stunning features and beautiful clothing.

Branford reached the space at the bottom of the steps, pulled his sword from its scabbard, and dropped to one knee.  He held his sword out flat in front of his body using both of his hands.

I hesitated, having absolutely no idea how I should present myself to my new king and queen.  Should I also be on my knees?  Curtsy?  Without knowing the correct custom, I was at a loss.  Deciding it would be best to show my allegiance in a matter similar to my husband, I also dropped to my knees, still slightly behind him.

I immediately heard gasps followed quickly by snickers.  Branford glanced over to me, his eyes narrowed, then turned back.  I could hear a distinctive rumble in his chest.  I noticed Sir Parnell still standing to Branford’s right and slightly behind, just as I had been on Branford’s left.  I tried to quell the panic rising inside of me, as well as hold back the tears I could feel starting in my eyes.  I wasn’t doing anything right at all, obviously, and I froze.  Perhaps if I held myself completely still, no one would take any notice of me.  At least, I hoped to convince myself of that.

“My King,” Branford said fluidly, “I return to your service.  My sword and my life are yours.”

“Welcome, Sir Branford,” King Camden said.  His bright blue gaze traveled over all of us.  He wore robes of gold and black over his clothing, and a simple crown of gold sat atop his head.  “Rise.  I think you must have some…news.”

“Yes, sire,” Branford said.  He stood and offered his hand to help me stand as well.   He took a deep breath and slowly shook his head from one side to the other, obviously embarrassed by me yet again.  I kept my eyes to the ground.  “I would like to introduce you to Alexandra”—he paused for much, much too long as the rest of the hall stood in complete silence, gawking at me as I kept my eyes to the floor, though I had no trouble sensing their gazes upon me—“my wife.”

Audible gasps echoed through the hall.

“Is this some kind of joke, Sir Branford?” King Camden asked.  “I’ll have you know I’m not in the mood.”

“No, Sire,” Branford said.  “I was offered my choice of brides after winning the Grand Tournament.  Alexandra was my choice.”

“Alexandra was your choice?” King Camden repeated.  Queen Sunniva reached out and laid her hand gently on her husband’s forearm.

“Alexandra of…?” Queen Sunniva asked, prompting.  I felt whatever blood was left drain from my face.

“Alexandra of Silverhelm, wife of Sir Branford,” Branford replied with raised brows.  “She is my wife, and she has rights to my titles.”

King Camden’s eyes narrowed at his nephew.

“Clear the hall.”  King Camden’s voice was low and seemingly calm though his eyes as they stared at his nephew and heir were far too similar to the scorching look Branford gave the carriage driver outside.  I turned slightly, wondering where I should go once I was outside.

“Stay where you are,” Branford said softly.  I stopped and turned back, my gaze still on the floor and my lower lip nestled neatly between my teeth.  I held my hands tight to my belly to keep them from shaking.  I could feel everyone’s gaze upon me as they slowly filed out through the huge doors behind us.  Within a few minutes, the guards had escorted everyone from the hall save the king and queen, Sir Parnell, and the dark-haired woman standing with her arms crossed next to Queen Sunniva’s chair.  As soon as the rest were gone, King Camden stood.

“Branford, what in God’s name did you do?”

“I married,” Branford answered simply.  “Just yesterday.  I’m afraid I was a little…impatient.”

He glanced over to me and smiled slightly.

“This must be a jest.”

“No, Sire.” Branford squared his shoulders and stood a little taller.  “I’ve taken Alexandra as my wife.  We were married yesterday afternoon.”

The dark-haired woman who had been standing to the side of Queen Sunniva took a sudden, sharp breath and stalked down the stairs to stand in front of Branford.  I could see out of the corner of my eye that Sir Parnell was taking shuffling side steps away from Branford’s shoulder.  She craned her neck, for she was no taller than I, and her eyes blazed up at him.  She pulled her arm back, and the resounding crack of her palm across Branford’s face echoed throughout the hall.

“How dare you, Branford?” she screamed at him.  Then she turned quickly to Branford’s right and caught Sir Parnell in her vision.  “And you were there with him?  I am so angry at both of you right now, I can’t even see straight.”

The woman turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.

“I told you,” I heard Sir Parnell mumble under his breath.  “If I end up out in the cold tonight, it will be entirely your fault.”

Branford snorted down his nose and then looked back up to King Camden.

“You were supposed to guarantee the joining of Silverhelm with Hadebrand!” Camden suddenly yelled, and I couldn’t help but shudder at the sound of his voice.  “You were supposed to take Princess Whitney’s hand!  What in the name of God were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I will not be used in such a way!” Branford yelled back.  “I will not have you dictate who my wife will be, especially if you were expecting me to wed the spawn of the man who killed your brother!”

“Branford!”  Queen Sunniva gasped, her hand placed against her chest.

“We all know it,” Branford stated.  “We all know Edgar had him slaughtered for Sterling lands.  Lands!  And you really expected me to go through with marrying Whitney?  Did you really, really expect me to do that?”

“I most certainly did!” Camden shouted back.

I cringed and found it more difficult to breathe.  My husband was yelling at a king, and I was the cause of it.  My head felt dizzy at the thought, and my hands had gone cold and clammy.

“I expected you to do as I wished,” Camden said, continuing.  “I expected you to do your duty and stop the threat of war on your people.  I expected you to do the right thing, not to…to…endanger Silverhelm based on something you cannot prove!”

“If I had the proof, I’d kill the bastard myself,” Branford said, his voice low and gravelly.  “I still await the day he decides to join in a tournament just so I can have the chance to gut that son of a whore.”

“Branford!”  Queen Sunniva gasped again.  “Do not use such language in my presence!”

“And given that,” Branford continued, his hand resting atop the hilt of his sword, “then surely you cannot expect I would be willing to marry his daughter!”

There was a long pause before the king spoke again.

“You have to make this right, Branford.” Camden’s voice dropped into an eerie calm.  “You have to find a way to fix this.  They could be preparing for war right now.”

“There is nothing to fix,” Branford stated.  “What’s done is done.  Alexandra and I are wed.  That cannot be changed.”

“Is there proof of your union?” King Camden asked abruptly.

My head swam, and my chest was so tight I found I could no longer draw breath at all.  King Camden knew.  I didn’t know how he knew, but he did.  He knew I was still a virgin.  He knew Branford hadn’t taken me.  I was sure of it.  My head began to pound, and my stomach felt like it had dropped to my feet.  A moment later, everything went dark.

The next thing I knew, I was staring at the high ceiling, my head in Branford’s lap.

“Alexandra, can you hear me?  Are you ill?”

“Yes, my…Branford…”  My vision was blurred, and I couldn’t figure out exactly where I was for a moment.  “I mean…no, I’m fine.”

“Fine!” he repeated, exasperated.  He leaned over me, running his hand over my cheek.  “Take a deep breath, my wife.  Can you stand?”

“Branford, dear.” Queen Sunniva’s voice echoed through my pounding head.  “She’s only fainted.”

Fainted?

Could I possibly do anything to make their first impression of me any worse?

Branford helped me to my feet and fussed over me for a moment until he was satisfied I was not going to drop to the ground yet again.  I offered my apologies, and he told me to hush.  I was fairly certain this was also a topic we would broach later, as he had indicated outside after the incident with the carriage driver.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Camden said quietly.  Branford snapped his head to one side to look at his uncle.

“There is proof back in my bed at Sterling Castle if you feel you really must inquire,” Branford murmured under his breath.  I saw him clench his left hand into a fist but only for a moment.  He did not look in my direction.

“What are you trying to do to me, son?”  The King of Silverhelm took in a long, deep breath and then exhaled through his nose.  He placed his hand over his eyes, rubbing at the corners with his thumb and fingers.  Branford released my arm and took a step toward his uncle.

“Father,” Branford said, his tone finally regaining some composure, “I have wed Alexandra.  I do not wish to change that.  If you…if you feel I must, I will abide, but I will not marry the Princess Whitney.”

For a moment I thought I might fall again.  He was going to give me up.  King Camden obviously did not want me here, and Branford was going to cast me out at the word of his king.  My chest tightened again, breath left me, and I felt as though my heart had completely stopped beating in my breast.  Where would I go?  Would they deliver me back to Hadebrand?  What would the princess and King Edgar say if I were to be returned to them?  Would I even be allowed back in the castle?  I remembered Branford’s words in the carriage—I could be considered an enemy of Hadebrand.  My hands began to shake again, and my head buzzed with all the possibilities.  In my anxious state, I almost didn’t hear King Camden’s reply.

“So be it, Branford,” King Camden said with a sigh.  “If you have already claimed her, I can hardly send her back to Hadebrand now.  She’d be an outcast begging in the streets within a day, and I’ll not have that on my conscience.”

My heart began to beat again.

“Thank you, Sire,” Branford said softly.  King Camden dropped back down onto his throne and shook his head slowly.  Branford reached out to me and pulled me close to him.  He held my arms to steady me for a moment before releasing his hold on me and turning back to the king.  “Forgive me for going against your wishes.  I just…couldn’t.”

“I understand,” Queen Sunniva said.  Her dark brown hair cascaded down her back in a long braid as she stood slowly and glided gracefully down the small set of stairs until she stood right in front of me.  She also wore an understated golden crown, just a fraction smaller than the king’s.

“She’s simply lovely, Branford,” she said.  Her voice was soft and kind, and when she looked me up and down, there was no disdain in her expression.  “Though it appears she has had a mishap.”

“The bloody carriage driver.”  Branford’s voice was nearly a snarl.  “He couldn’t control his horses when she was leaving the carriage.  The mud outside—”

“I thought as much,” Sunniva said, interrupting.  “And stop cursing.  I won’t warn you again.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Alexandra, dear?” Queen Sunniva reached out and touched my hand.  My eyes darted to hers quickly, still unsure if I was allowed to look her in the eye.  When our gazes did meet, she smiled, and I tried to smile back.  “Let us get you into something more appropriate, agreed?”

“Yes, Queen Sunniva.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she responded.  “I’m practically your mother now, too.  Just call me Sunniva.”

“If you wish, Sunniva.”

And that is how I was welcomed into the family.