A knock at the door interrupted Branford’s words, and he growled as he slipped from the bed and went to see who was there. A moment later he returned, his face ashen and his eyes staring toward me without seeing.
“Camden…” he whispered, his voice shaking on the single word.
And that is when I knew our king was dead.
Chapter 5—Finally Discover
Though I should have expected it, the blaring of the trumpets startled me.
I looked up at the castle walls and could not begin to count the number of people there—trumpeters, nobles, and commoners alike. Though I had attended spectacles where most of the castle-dwellers and several nearby commoners were present, it was nothing like this.
When I first learned about Branford’s kingdom, he spoke of the prior census of the lands, indicating some three thousand men, women, and children occupying the lands surrounding the castle. It seemed as though every one of them was here now.
They were here to witness the coronation of their new king.
Messengers had gone out in the middle of the night, announcing at the same time the death of King Camden and the crowning of King Branford. The ceremony was a formality—a spectacle for the people, since the crown had been placed on Branford’s head as his father’s body cooled. The kingdom could not be without a king—not even for a moment.
My mind summoned memories of the early hours of the morning.
I had followed Branford back to the king’s chambers and was immediately met by a crushingly distraught Sunniva. I held her, keeping her from falling to the floor as Branford approached Camden’s bed. I stared, unable to remove my gaze from Branford as he reached out and touched his adoptive father’s hand. He flinched back immediately, and I could see a shudder run through his bare shoulders.
Others in the court had gathered in the hallway as the news spread through the castle. Father Tucker approached, stepping around Sunniva and me as he made his way to Branford’s side. He spoke quietly to him, and I could not make out the words. He also reached for Camden’s hand and then touched his face and the side of his neck. He stood and turned toward the open doorway.
“The king is dead,” he said to all in the room. He turned back to the king’s body and took the crown from the small platform above Camden’s head. Branford stood motionless as the symbol of the kingdom’s leadership was placed upon his head. “Long live the king!”
“Long live King Branford!” the voices from behind me began to chant. Branford turned slowly to them, looking upon his subjects with a pale face and shock in his eyes.
He didn’t look that different now.
As Branford left my side and walked through the swarm of people, the crowd barely contained by the guard, he managed to hold in the numbness I knew he still felt in his heart. He would not display it in front of his people.
I felt Ida’s hand against my back, signaling me to follow Branford’s strides toward the raised platform near the castle gates. As I walked through the opening and into the view of the crowd, a cheer rose up that was even louder than the cries for their new king. I felt my face burn in embarrassment but managed to force my feet to take me through the throngs of people and up the steps to stand next to my husband and king.
Though the crown was already officially transferred, Sunniva placed the simple gold circlet upon Branford’s head. He then, in turn, took the crown that had adorned Sunniva’s head for many years and placed it on mine. As the crowd continued to call out to us, Branford leaped up on Romero, and I was placed in front of him before we rode slowly around the castle.
The people cheered as Branford waved. I gripped his arm as he held me against his chest, and his mouth breathed warm air to my ear.
“They love you,” he said. “They see you so clearly.”
I felt heat rise to my face again as Branford pressed his lips to my cheek, and the cheers of the people of Silverhelm grew louder.
“Long live King Branford! Long live Queen Alexandra!”
The chanting became deafening as Branford slowly directed Romero down the streets, the stallion’s tail swishing at the ruckus around us. People who could get close enough to us reached out to touch Romero’s flanks as well as Branford’s legs and the skirt of my dress.
“I believe they would do anything for you.” Branford sighed as his arm held me tighter. “I have so much to learn—so much to make up for—but I can only hope to be as good a king as you will be a queen.”
*****
Our deadline was fast approaching.
Within a week, I would either be in the Women’s Room yet again with my husband’s concubine in tow, or one of us would be with child. If this did not happen, King Edgar would strike—either with his army or with his daughter.
King Edgar and Princess Whitney had come to the castle on their weekly visit in order to make that fact as clear as possible to Branford, who still struggled with the loss of his adoptive father, the grieving former queen, and his wife whose body would not produce the heir he needed.
Most of the court, myself included, had been removed from the great hall hours ago. I had stayed in the royal chambers to try to place things where I wanted them, for we had been moved into our new rooms only a few days before. Amarra walked around the room, sniffing at the corners and examining the spot by the fire where her bed had been placed on its platform. Janet arranged my dresses, and I took care of Branford’s clothing. He did not like my handmaid touching his things.
“Where shall I put these?” Janet asked as she held up a small box filled with jewelry Branford had purchased for me.