Hadley’s smile faltered, and her eyes narrowed in confusion.
“When we leave,” she said.
“What are you saying?” I asked Hadley as she broke our gaze.
“I thought you would have known already,” she said softly.
I shook my head.
“King Branford is sending us to live in Seacrest,” she told me. “With Sir Rylan coming here for the negotiations with Hadebrand, Brigham is going to be in charge of the men left behind to protect Seacrest.”
I scowled and looked to where Branford was dancing with his adoptive mother. In my mind, I tried to determine exactly when he had made such plans since there had been so very few times when we were even out of earshot of one another. My memories soon took me to an afternoon several days ago when Branford was practicing with his men in the field. There were several new, young recruits—boys more than men—who had come from the outlying farms of Silverhelm. Sir Rylan had been there, and I did recall Branford, Sir Brigham, and Sir Rylan all standing near each other and speaking in low voices as I watched and knitted from the edge of the field.
“He did not tell you,” Hadley surmised.
“No, he did not.”
“He does not want me here,” she said softly.
I could not argue the point for though I knew he appreciated her willingness to serve Silverhelm, she was the reminder of what he had done—what he had sacrificed. Having the opportunity to send Sir Brigham, and therefore Hadley as well, out of the kingdom was probably quite a relief to Branford.
“He finds it difficult to be in your presence,” I finally admitted.
“And for you as well?” she asked.
I reached out and touched her white lace-clad arm.
“No, my dear friend,” I said. “I am grateful to you. At the time, we had no choice, and if it had to be someone, I am glad it was you. What if it had come down to Whitney? Or if another servant had been chosen—maybe even Janet? I hate to think of what might have happened if someone else had been in your place.”
We hugged briefly, and my hands slid down her arms to grasp her fingers.
“And that opportunity has brought you to your Brigham,” I said with a smile. “Wherever you are, you will be at his side. He loves you so dearly.”
Hadley’s cheeks flushed, and she looked at her feet as she smiled.
“He has said it would be…different,” she said in hushed tones. “Even Father Tucker said tonight would still be my first…in the eyes of God…well…you know.”
I smiled too, biting down on my lip at the same time. I considered the irony. I had been a virgin on my wedding night but stayed pure for some time afterwards. Hadley, though not pure, would still experience her first pleasures with her husband on the night of her wedding. She would have love from the beginning of her marriage while Branford and I had to find our way to those feelings.
After another embrace, I made my way around the dance floor to where I was supposed to sit at the feasting table. The minstrels paused in their song, and I watched my husband’s easy smile as he took a step back from Sunniva. It was good to see him smile as it brightened his face and brought back his youth.
I walked around the table and laid my cloak over the chair where I would sit next to Branford for the feast. The air in the hall was quite warm on my skin, and the cloak was causing the heat to overwhelm me. As I smoothed out the fabric, servants began to come from the kitchens to bring forth the food for the feast.
The smell of the roasted meats hit my nose and caused my belly to lurch as I was suddenly reminded of the smell of charred flesh in the practice field outside the castle walls. The back of my throat burned with the taste of bile as
I swallowed hard. Reaching inside the sleeve of my dress, I fished out a small lace handkerchief and covered my mouth, concerned for a moment that my stomach was going to act against me. I stilled for a moment, and the feeling passed, so I moved quickly away from the table, opting for drink instead of food. I walked cautiously toward one of the barrels of mead, nodding to some of the other guests as I passed.
The smell of the strong ales and wines hit me nearly as hard as the scent of the food. My stomach churned again, and the lace handkerchief in my hands blurred as I stared at it.
“Alexandra!” I felt Branford’s hands around my middle as he pulled me backwards a few steps to sit upon a nearby chair, holding me sideways in his lap. My head dropped to his shoulder as the room continued to spin.
“What is wrong with her?” Sunniva asked. I felt her cool fingers on my cheek.
“I do not know,” Branford replied. “Alexandra? Can you speak?”
“Yes,” I mumbled into his shirt.
“What is wrong, my wife?”