Gossip traveled fast through the court of Carib, but it followed on the heels of the truth today. That Princess Elspeth had persuaded the king and queen to finally take time for themselves and cancel their meetings for the afternoon ahead of them, leaving advisors and petitioners at a loose end for one afternoon. Most took this in stride, glad to have leisure to spend with their own families, for the court was also dismissed to their own ends. Elspeth, it seemed, was not above using her own power with a gentle hand when it came to the well-being of her brother and his wife.
As for herself, she retired to her own private gardens under the watchful eye of her champion, failing to sew under the bright sunlight as she plucked up her courage to speak.
"Miles," she spoke to him, raising her eyes to her armed escort. "Will you sit with me a while?"
Miles, too, had heard some gossip, mostly of marriage proposals linked with the princess' name. Though thus far he had not heard that she had accepted, the gossip had put him in a dark mood, and the noon meal with his father and brother had not helped matters any. All they wanted to talk of, it seemed, was politics and the state of the nation now that Henry and Brynhilde were King and Queen of Carib. It seemed no one knew or even cared how he felt like a puppet, without the ability to choose a life and a fate for himself. He was only a second son of a baron, and it was only through the king's good graces that he had achieved the rank of Royal Champion.
He could just as easily have been sent away to dedicate his life to the church, and while that was a noble calling for some, it was not the life that Miles had longed for. Still, none of this was the princess' doing, and it would not be fair to spoil such a fine day as this moping about his own problems when she seemed so content. It was her voice that drew him away from his own thoughts and worries, turning to face her as he stood nearby, posing as both guard and escort.
"Hmm?" he asked, arching a blond brow at her in response to her question. "Sit' Yes, I suppose I could do that," he said, shuffling over to take a seat on the bench but leaving a respectful distance between them.
Laying her sewing in her lap, Elspeth considered him for a long moment. He had saved her life once, but more than that, he had been the first person in this land to offer her his friendship. In answer, she had asked for him to be made her champion and protector, and he had never shirked in his duties. But it wasn't duty that made her seek his company. "Is this a suitable hour to ask if you would let me speak with you, my lord?" she asked him softly. "Should I wait until the sun has dimmed, or your mood improved?"
He scowled, her question not helping his mood any, though she was gentle enough in the asking. He knew it was only a matter of time before the king and queen chose a proper suitor and then his fate would be, once again, in his father's hands. She had become, in all honesty, his closest friend, but though he needed a friend, his heart had yearned for something more. "Now is as good a time as any. If you wait for my mood to improve, you may have to wait days," he replied, trying not to offend her with his bad mood.
Well, this is a good start, she thought to herself, making an effort not to sigh at the unlikely beginning to what she had hoped would be a happy conversation at its end. "Miles ....there are things about me that you do not yet know," she said softly. "Things about my origin, and my experience, that you have a right to know before I ask you the question on my mind. I know you are curious, as most are, but I trust you with this knowledge and I want to tell you. Will you hear me?"
Miles blinked, a little surprised at the seriousness of her statement. So, this was to be a serious conversation. Perhaps this was where she'd break the news to him that she'd finally accepted one of the many proposals of marriage and that his services and friendship were no longer needed. "There is no need to tell me anything, Highness. I am but a mere servant," he reminded her before continuing. "But if you wish to speak of such things, I am willing to listen and keep your words in my confidence."
"You are not a servant," she insisted vehemently, frowning at his willful perseverance in believing himself less than her. "You are my closest and dearest friend, and I don't want there to be lies between us. I am not the princess you think I am. I was born a bastard, the daughter of a common woman who had the love of my father, who was a prince. To protect myself, and my brother, he did not acknowledge us. We did not even know who we were, until politics and plotting gathered us up and stole our mother's life. We were delivered to our father, our uncle, and acknowledged as royal, but we grew together in a poor border town. You are higher born than I am, and far nobler than I could ever hope to be."
That might not have been the way she'd meant to tell him, and from the look of astonishment on his face, her admission had come as something of a shock to him, despite the rumblings of gossip among the court that he tried to ignore. He knew she was upbraiding him in her own way for finding himself inferior, but whether she'd had common beginnings or not, she could not deny the royal blood that flowed in her veins. "And I am the second son of a baron. I have no title or land to my name. My prospects are few and my choices are fewer. I am not telling you this because I feel sorry for myself or my lot in life, but because it is true. Is this what you wanted to tell me" So that I do not fret so over my own humble beginnings?"
His answer momentarily dumbfounded her, robbing her of speech as she stared at him. "In part," she managed eventually, shaking her head as she tried to gather words to her tongue once again. "There is more to tell, and only once it is told will you, perhaps, begin to understand why I am telling you this. I am trusting you, not only with my secrets, but with my brother's, also. Can you not think of a reason why I might do that, for the dearest companion of my heart?" She bit her lip, not giving him a moment to consider that before plunging on.
"I am not a maid," she said, looking down at her hands as she fidgeted with her abandoned sewing. "This, you guessed, but I have never told you how it came to be. When my brother and I were caught up in court politics in Pomerania, we were separated, and my life was held over his head to ensure his obedience. My mother lost her life defending my virtue, and one of the lords involved in the plot took custody of me. I thought he was kind, until ....until he demanded payment for his kindnesses. He kept me in his bed for a fortnight, and it is only the Goddess' mercy that kept me from bearing his child. You are a purer, nobler person than I will ever be, Miles. And Goddess help me, but I love you."
He opened his mouth to reply to her question, but it seemed it was not a question that required an answer as she continued on, not waiting for him to even consider what she'd said before plunging onward. By the time she was finished with the telling, his expression had changed several times, going from confused to angry to astonished all in the matter of time it took her to tell her story. It was a lot for him to take in all at once, and he found a chaotic jumbling of emotions rising up inside of him. Pride and compassion mingled with sadness and anger and even at the end of it, with wonder, hardly believing what he thought he was hearing. With so much to consider, his mind was having trouble absorbing all that she'd said, while his heart felt torn. But in the end, after all the horrible things that had happened to her, she had said that she loved him. Him.
As for herself, she retired to her own private gardens under the watchful eye of her champion, failing to sew under the bright sunlight as she plucked up her courage to speak.
"Miles," she spoke to him, raising her eyes to her armed escort. "Will you sit with me a while?"
Miles, too, had heard some gossip, mostly of marriage proposals linked with the princess' name. Though thus far he had not heard that she had accepted, the gossip had put him in a dark mood, and the noon meal with his father and brother had not helped matters any. All they wanted to talk of, it seemed, was politics and the state of the nation now that Henry and Brynhilde were King and Queen of Carib. It seemed no one knew or even cared how he felt like a puppet, without the ability to choose a life and a fate for himself. He was only a second son of a baron, and it was only through the king's good graces that he had achieved the rank of Royal Champion.
He could just as easily have been sent away to dedicate his life to the church, and while that was a noble calling for some, it was not the life that Miles had longed for. Still, none of this was the princess' doing, and it would not be fair to spoil such a fine day as this moping about his own problems when she seemed so content. It was her voice that drew him away from his own thoughts and worries, turning to face her as he stood nearby, posing as both guard and escort.
"Hmm?" he asked, arching a blond brow at her in response to her question. "Sit' Yes, I suppose I could do that," he said, shuffling over to take a seat on the bench but leaving a respectful distance between them.
Laying her sewing in her lap, Elspeth considered him for a long moment. He had saved her life once, but more than that, he had been the first person in this land to offer her his friendship. In answer, she had asked for him to be made her champion and protector, and he had never shirked in his duties. But it wasn't duty that made her seek his company. "Is this a suitable hour to ask if you would let me speak with you, my lord?" she asked him softly. "Should I wait until the sun has dimmed, or your mood improved?"
He scowled, her question not helping his mood any, though she was gentle enough in the asking. He knew it was only a matter of time before the king and queen chose a proper suitor and then his fate would be, once again, in his father's hands. She had become, in all honesty, his closest friend, but though he needed a friend, his heart had yearned for something more. "Now is as good a time as any. If you wait for my mood to improve, you may have to wait days," he replied, trying not to offend her with his bad mood.
Well, this is a good start, she thought to herself, making an effort not to sigh at the unlikely beginning to what she had hoped would be a happy conversation at its end. "Miles ....there are things about me that you do not yet know," she said softly. "Things about my origin, and my experience, that you have a right to know before I ask you the question on my mind. I know you are curious, as most are, but I trust you with this knowledge and I want to tell you. Will you hear me?"
Miles blinked, a little surprised at the seriousness of her statement. So, this was to be a serious conversation. Perhaps this was where she'd break the news to him that she'd finally accepted one of the many proposals of marriage and that his services and friendship were no longer needed. "There is no need to tell me anything, Highness. I am but a mere servant," he reminded her before continuing. "But if you wish to speak of such things, I am willing to listen and keep your words in my confidence."
"You are not a servant," she insisted vehemently, frowning at his willful perseverance in believing himself less than her. "You are my closest and dearest friend, and I don't want there to be lies between us. I am not the princess you think I am. I was born a bastard, the daughter of a common woman who had the love of my father, who was a prince. To protect myself, and my brother, he did not acknowledge us. We did not even know who we were, until politics and plotting gathered us up and stole our mother's life. We were delivered to our father, our uncle, and acknowledged as royal, but we grew together in a poor border town. You are higher born than I am, and far nobler than I could ever hope to be."
That might not have been the way she'd meant to tell him, and from the look of astonishment on his face, her admission had come as something of a shock to him, despite the rumblings of gossip among the court that he tried to ignore. He knew she was upbraiding him in her own way for finding himself inferior, but whether she'd had common beginnings or not, she could not deny the royal blood that flowed in her veins. "And I am the second son of a baron. I have no title or land to my name. My prospects are few and my choices are fewer. I am not telling you this because I feel sorry for myself or my lot in life, but because it is true. Is this what you wanted to tell me" So that I do not fret so over my own humble beginnings?"
His answer momentarily dumbfounded her, robbing her of speech as she stared at him. "In part," she managed eventually, shaking her head as she tried to gather words to her tongue once again. "There is more to tell, and only once it is told will you, perhaps, begin to understand why I am telling you this. I am trusting you, not only with my secrets, but with my brother's, also. Can you not think of a reason why I might do that, for the dearest companion of my heart?" She bit her lip, not giving him a moment to consider that before plunging on.
"I am not a maid," she said, looking down at her hands as she fidgeted with her abandoned sewing. "This, you guessed, but I have never told you how it came to be. When my brother and I were caught up in court politics in Pomerania, we were separated, and my life was held over his head to ensure his obedience. My mother lost her life defending my virtue, and one of the lords involved in the plot took custody of me. I thought he was kind, until ....until he demanded payment for his kindnesses. He kept me in his bed for a fortnight, and it is only the Goddess' mercy that kept me from bearing his child. You are a purer, nobler person than I will ever be, Miles. And Goddess help me, but I love you."
He opened his mouth to reply to her question, but it seemed it was not a question that required an answer as she continued on, not waiting for him to even consider what she'd said before plunging onward. By the time she was finished with the telling, his expression had changed several times, going from confused to angry to astonished all in the matter of time it took her to tell her story. It was a lot for him to take in all at once, and he found a chaotic jumbling of emotions rising up inside of him. Pride and compassion mingled with sadness and anger and even at the end of it, with wonder, hardly believing what he thought he was hearing. With so much to consider, his mind was having trouble absorbing all that she'd said, while his heart felt torn. But in the end, after all the horrible things that had happened to her, she had said that she loved him. Him.