Pawns and Queens--A 15th Century Gwynedd Story--Chapter Ten

[Evie]

Previous chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3215.0.html


Chapter Ten

February 7, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
Late afternoon

In the past week since Catalina's wedding, she had assisted the Queen and Dowager Queen in planning a series of welcoming banquets and other entertainment for the arrival of the expected royal entourages, assisted in welcoming the young Prince Alarikos of Beldouria to their court, had offered the two nervous Haldane Princesses her wealth of sage advice gleaned from the dubious benefits of a full week of married life, consoled Princess Elisa when she had burst into tears over her language studies and had ended up lending her Lord Riordan's tutorial services, had sent her ladies-in-waiting to work together with the Gwyneddan ladies of the Court to help them add their finishing touches to the Hall and guest apartments with the ulterior motive of forcing her Andelonian entourage out of their own apartment so they wouldn't spend their days moping over their sewing and wishing they were back in sunny Andelonia, and thus Catalina had barely managed to catch more than a few minutes alone with her new husband each day until it was time for them to retire to their bed at night to try for a Haldane heir. She was exhausted. Though the upside of that last duty–if one could consider such pleasures to be duty–was that she had yet to return to her own bedchamber at night, which for the moment at least had primarily become her dressing room, though Lady Amina still preferred to sleep on her truckle bed in that chamber rather than moving into one of the other rooms with the more comfortable beds her other ladies slept in.

Lady Amina had not entirely emerged from her sulk yet, though she was far less hovering now that Catalina was a married woman and had forcefully expressed her insistence on being treated like one. She was dutiful and compliant enough, but while her other ladies had gradually grown more accustomed to their new environs and had begun to make new acquaintances around the court, Lady Amina remained steadfastly obdurate in her views and unwillingness to accept that any differences between the way things were done at Rhanamé and how they were done in the court at Rhemuth were not matters of right or wrong, but simply cultural differences in how each court chose to do things, whether due to some practical consideration such as climate differences, or due to no particular reason one could easily identify. Catalina hoped it was just an especially strong case of homesickness causing Amina to react in such a way and that she would eventually get past it.

At the moment, she was dressing her princesa's hair in a particularly Andelonian style suitable for a married noblewoman. Catalina allowed it rather than insisting on a more Gwyneddan looking hairstyle, since the arrangement was becoming and would look especially nice under the headdress she planned to wear to the banquet welcoming King Dafydd and Prince Philippe and their retinues later that evening. She also hoped that looking her best would help lift her spirits, because she had discovered just that morning that she was not yet bearing Colin's child.

It did not help that Ash Wednesday was on the morrow, so technically they ought not try again for an heir until after Easter, which wasn't until the twenty-fifth of March this year, by which time Colin would surely have long departed Rhemuth for the war front. Catalina quietly hoped that he did not intend to be as observant a son of the Church when it came to keeping strict observance of the days they were meant to be abstaining from relations as he had been when it came to avoiding the Mass when he'd been unshriven. Otherwise the Haldane heir might not be conceived until the levies came home, if even then. She hoped King Dafydd and Princes Philippe and Alarikos all enjoyed fish, for this evening's banquet would be the last one featuring red meat for quite some time. Or almost the last, at least. The Church was counting beaver meat as fish now, and prepared correctly, it could be made to taste similarly to a tender cut of beef. She made a mental note to suggest that to the castle chef.

Amina finished securing the last coil of braided hair and began to lay out Catalina's outfit for later that evening. It was one of her nicest gowns from Andelonia. Catalina had yet to find the time to experiment with sewing any of the Gwyneddan fashions, although there were several pretty styles she had seen worn by some of the younger courtiers like Lady Gabrielle Morgan that somehow managed to combine both beauty and greater practicality for wintry evenings in Rhemuth.

Peering into her wardrobe, she pulled out one of the Gwyneddan kirtles she had been given before her trousseau had made the sea crossing from Fianna, comparing the deep emerald color of the soft wool to the only slightly brighter green of the silk gamurra that Lady Amina had selected. It was a close match, and either would pair nicely with the giornea of gold sendal worn over it. For that matter, she could still wear her silk sleeves with it, and in the candlelight of the Great Hall, it would be impossible to tell they weren't originally made to match, but the slightly altered ensemble would keep her much warmer. She could tell from the deepening of Amina's unhappy expression that she wasn't best pleased by the substitution, but no complaint was forthcoming.

A church bell nearby struck the hours. The feast would be starting before too much longer, so she probably ought to go ahead and dress now so she would already be prepared if Colin returned in time for her to spend a few minutes with him while he changed for dinner before heading over to the Hall together.

Lady Amina assisted her into her green kirtle and sleeves, and since it was a special occasion, Catalina capitulated and allowed herself to be talked into pairing them with the sheer silk camisa underneath, figuring it was unlikely she would catch a cold and freeze to death during the short walk from King's Tower to the Hall due to Gwynedd's wintry gusts blowing through the gaps in her sleeve sections. Amina drew some of the silk through those gaps in billowy poufs and readjusted some of the ribbon ties to drape more elegantly.

"I should go check on the Prince," Catalina told her once she had finished. "You'll want to get to the Hall a little early tonight. We shall have a newly arrived King and another Prince in our company in addition to Prince Alarikos, along with their retinues, so the Great Hall is likely to be crowded. The menservants have had to set up the Lesser Hall with tables as well to ensure we have sufficient space for household staff to dine."

"Hopefully the cuisine will be to their tastes," Amina muttered darkly. She had lost a little weight since their arrival due to her distaste for most of the local foods, which Catalina had found quite delicious in their own way. But Gwyneddan food was customarily seasoned with a different assortment of herbs and spices than that of her native Andelon, and while she found the differences intriguing, Amina missed the flavors of their homeland.

Catalina sighed, exasperated by Amina's mulishness but not wanting to waste any more time trying to coax her out of her gloomy mood. "I'll be back for my giornea and jeweled cap when we're ready to walk over, but I should be able to manage putting it on myself. Thank you." She gave a nod of acknowledgement to Amina's curtsey as she walked out of the room and into Colin's bedchamber, hoping he had returned, but he was still nowhere to be found. Locking the connecting door behind her (for the horror of Amina's attempt to chaperone her wedding night was still fresh on her mind), she went to check his antechamber.

Colin was not there either, but she encountered Riordan coming back into the apartment from his language lesson with Princess Elisa. "How are the lessons coming along?" she asked.

Riordan waggled his hand in a 'so-so' sort of gesture. "Her Royal Highness is not the quickest of learners, and Llanneddan is also a very difficult language to master, but she's showing some progress. I think she's finally up to very basic conversation, at least if she sticks to extremely general topics. Although I think King Dafydd might be a bit confused if she asks him about Llannedd's imports of wine and ghosts."

Catalina giggled. "Wine and ghosts?"

"Spirits." He grinned. "Hopefully I've managed to convey the difference, though the real trick for her will be pronouncing the words correctly once she's got the proper definitions sorted."

"Where is Salim?"

Riordan chuckled. "Out charming the ladies in his new Gwyneddan finery. It's a feast night, must you even ask?"

"And you? Will you be wearing any new Gwyneddan finery?"

"I plan to. I suppose, given the time, I should be getting into that."

Catalina glanced out the window, trying to gauge the time by the amount of sunlight left in the sky, which was marginal at best. "Have you seen Prince Nicholas?"

"Not recently. He was headed for the Basilica earlier today along with Duke Joscelin."

The outer door opened, and Catalina let out a quiet sigh of relief at the sight of her husband and Sebastian. "There you are! Will you need assistance in getting ready for tonight's festivities?"

He glanced at his squire. "I have assistance, but thank you. I'll be ready to head over to the Hall with you in a few minutes." Brushing a brief kiss on her cheek as he walked past, he disappeared into his chamber with Sebastian.

She sighed at the closing door. Turning, she saw Riordan watching her with a slightly upraised eyebrow.

"Sit and rest for a bit while you wait, Señora. The world won't end if you're off your feet for fifteen minutes."

#

February 7, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
Evening

Arranging the high table seating to accommodate a visiting King, two Princes, and the Haldane King and Queen along with that King's sisters and his mother had been quite the feat, and the Dowager Queen of Gwynedd still seemed a bit nonplussed at her eldest son's insistence on emerging from his bedchamber to lead the festivities. On the way to the Great Hall, Catalina had discovered the reason for her husband's late arrival to their apartment. He had had to stop by King Cinhil's apartment first, where he and Duke Joscelin Morgan had helped to get him properly dressed and groomed for the special occasion before Colin had carried his brother down to the Basilica courtyard by means of some back passage that had a straight staircase with rough stone steps far less worn down by the passage of time than the more dangerously worn spiral stairs that were the primary means of entrance and exit from that tower. At the Basilica, Duke Joscelin had assisted in getting the King comfortably situated in his new chair, using the newer arcaded walkway along the curtain wall as a more convenient route to wheel him through the gardens than the main garden path running through the center of the parklands, since it had a shorter stairway the chair would need to be carried up in order for Cinhil to be wheeled into the upper bailey. Then there had been another set of straight stairs to navigate, but eventually the Duke, Prince Nicholas, and their squires had managed to get the King into the Hall proper and seated at the High Table beside his Queen shortly before the start of the banquet.

Catalina savored the unique experience of being able to enjoy the feast from the first table below the dais rather than seated at the High Table itself. She could not recall a time she had ever been asked to sit at a lower table, but it was nice to not be at the center of everyone's attention for once. Glancing at Colin, she sensed he felt the same, though it was hard to say since he felt unusually shuttered and preoccupied tonight.

It was customary in Rhemuth for the oldest knight at Court to give a toast to the health of the Sovereign and Consort and for the youngest to toast the health of the Heir and his princess after the first remove was served but before the meal was too far underway. Catalina wondered if anyone had thought about who should extend the courtesies towards their royal guests, since it was a detail she had not thought about until the first toast began, but she needn't have worried, for as soon as the assembled guests had raised their goblets to the health of Prince Nicholas and herself, the King had stood briefly to raise his wine glass with words of welcome to his peer the King of Llannedd. Prince Nicholas had followed suit in raising a toast of welcome to the more highly ranked of the visiting Princes, Alarikos of Beldouria, which left Prince Camber with the task of toasting Gwynedd's neighbor across the sea, Prince Philippe of Bremagne.

The risk of a diplomatic faux pas averted, Catalina found it easier to relax and enjoy her meal.

#

February 7, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
Night

Colin was struggling with a knot in his cuff lacing, picking at it with mounting frustration, when the door to the adjoining bedchamber opened and shut behind his wife. She locked the door before turning towards him, watching his efforts with concerned eyes.  "Do you need help with that?" she asked.

Wordlessly, he extended the offending sleeve towards her. She bent to unravel the snarled lacing, patiently working at it until the knot came undone. He studied her bowed head as she worked, bringing up his free hand to touch her bound hair.

"You normally leave it down for me," he commented as the knot finally sprang loose, allowing him to slip his hand out of the tight cuff.

"I can unbraid it. Amina braided it back for me to help keep it from getting snarled again after she combed the tangles out." She helped him out of his shirt. "But I don't know if you will wish me to stay or not. My courses started this morning."

He glanced up at her, freezing in the act of putting his shirt away. "Well, it's early days, I suppose. It would be a bit much to expect an heir to be on the way this soon after our wedding." Seeing her downcast expression, he tossed the shirt to one side and walked back to her, briefly enveloping her in a hug. "Do you feel alright? I know it's been a pretty busy day...."

"Yes, I'm fine. Being Deryni does have certain advantages when it comes to pain management, and I can't very well leave three visiting suitors for your sisters to entertain by themselves so I can curl up around a soft cushion all day."

"I suppose not." He kissed the top of her head before finding a seat so he could remove his boots. "Well, I guess this is as good a time as any for me to make a brief trip out of Rhemuth, then."

She bent to help tug the snug boot so he could extricate his leg from it. "Where will you be going? We have a castle filled with visitors!"

"I am aware of that," he said, stifling a mild surge of irritation, "and I realize the timing is somewhat unfortunate, but I'm afraid it can't be helped. I've just been informed this morning that a place has just opened up for Balian at the page school, so I will need to pay my family a visit tomorrow so I can inform his mother."

Catalina stared up at him, green eyes filled with dismay, causing him to look away, unwanted twinges of guilt gnawing at him. He looked back down at her as she tugged on his second boot a little more sharply than was warranted.

"I wasn't planning on staying, Catherine. I will be back by tomorrow evening."

She stood up, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "Colin, in the Great Hall, I am your consort Princess Catherine. In this room, where there are just the two of us and the bed we share, I am your wife, and I have my own name which I would prefer for you to use." She picked up his boots and set them to one side for one of his squires to deal with in the morning.

What in the hell was that supposed to mean? "Catalina, we discussed this," he reminded her, attempting to suppress his irritation. "You agreed my children should have the benefit of a court education. Where else is that meant to happen except for here at our court? I am not going to be here in Rhemuth much longer; in another month the troops will be heading off to war. If Balian is to get his start at the page school, it will have to be now."
 
"I have no objection to him joining the page school, Colin. Of course your children will be educated here in Rhemuth, although with most of our fighting men going along with you, I'm at a loss to know how Balian is to get a proper page's education in only a few weeks' time. Can it not wait until you return later in the year?"

Colin sighed. "Not all the men will be going with me. A few will be needed here in case there is need to defend the castle, not that I anticipate Torval's troops will get anywhere close to Rhemuth, but one never knows what to expect in a war. But more to the point, Cinhil has agreed to take my son under his special patronage, so that by the time I inherit the throne, Balian will already be fairly well established here at court. I can't expect that Cinhil will be in any condition to sponsor Balian by the end of the summer or autumn months."

"I suppose not." Catalina bit her lip. "But you will hold to your promise at least, will you not?"

What promise? He saw the vulnerable uncertainty in her eyes despite her very tight shielding, and suddenly realized what she meant. He felt another twinge of guilt twisting his gut.

"I told you, I will be back by nightfall."

She nodded. "All right." Lifting her hand to his face, she gently stroked his cheek. "I know this separation must be very difficult for you, but it would grieve me to have you ride off to war unshriven, as I am certain it would also grieve and worry her, if she bears you even half as much love as you bear for her."

Bloody hell, did she need to rub it in?  "I said I would keep my vow, and I shall," he forced out, not quite able to keep his exasperation out of his voice.

"I am glad of it." Tiptoeing to kiss the cheek she had stroked, she turned away, heading towards the adjoining chamber.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I didn't think you had need of me tonight," she told him, "and I find myself in need of proper sleep."

#

Nicholas tossed and turned, but he couldn't sleep. His bed felt far too cold despite the warmth of the fireplace, and her side of the mattress nearly as empty as the hollow feeling he felt at the core of himself.

He knew it would be difficult to separate himself from Melisande even briefly for the sake of the kingdom, but once he had met Catalina, he'd begun to hope it might be manageable enough, balancing the needs of his kingdom with his own needs and those of his young family. He'd thought she understood he simply needed a consort, a princess with the proper upbringing and training to know how to take on the myriad responsibilities that a lady of the royal household must fulfill. That she had known he was looking for a partner in his work, and granted, also in his bed, since obviously that was necessary for getting heirs, and thus far she had certainly shown no hesitancy in fulfilling that end of their agreement.

He had not counted on her developing tender feelings for him, though. Nor had he counted on feeling anything beyond simple, uncomplicated friendship and respect for her. But the look of pain in her eyes when she'd turned away from him twisted like a red hot knife in his gut.

He'd meant for his heart to remain completely whole and fully true to Melisande, even if his body was required to fulfill dynastic commitments. But somehow, in the space of a mere two weeks, things had started to become far more complicated than he had ever dreamed, and he had no idea how he was meant to fix the problem.

The very last thing he wanted to do was lose any piece of his heart to this captivating, terrifyingly, ruthlessly capable siren of a girl, or to encourage her to feel anything for him besides the uncomplicated cordial respect and willingness to be an amiable bedmate that a man might expect from a simple marriage of convenience.  Was that really so much to ask for? How in the hell was he to face Melisande ever again, if he were to commit the ultimate folly of falling in love with his wife?

Either way, no matter what he did, he feared he would spend the rest of his life causing hurt for a woman he cared for. Melisande. Catalina. Either. Both. He saw no way out, unless maybe the cruel Fates saw fit to show him a little mercy and kill his stupid, God-forsaken arse in the coming war. But that would create a whole new set of problems, and Camber would never forgive him.

He couldn't stand the cold emptiness any longer. Colin slid out of bed and walked quietly to the door to Catalina's bedroom. He paused with one hand on the handle, stopped by the sounds of her crying and Lady Amina's quiet murmurs of consolation.

He might be willing to brave Amina, but he didn't dare to face his sobbing wife. He would far rather face King Torval in that moment. At least he would know what to do about Torval.

Colin turned and returned to his cold bed. His pillow still smelled of Catalina's hair.

#

February 8, 1464
Royal Hunting Lodge
Ten miles northeast of Rhemuth


"Mama, Mama, come quick! I see Papa coming home!" Anneke cried out in excitement.

Melisande jumped up from her stool by the fire, her sewing kit nearly tumbling into the fireplace, though she caught the basket just in time to prevent it from tipping over completely. She ran to the window to see two riders approaching in the near distance. She wasn't certain at first, but as they drew closer, she recognized the tunic Colin wore. She had made it for him.

"Jesú be thanked," she whispered, though as soon as the words left her lips she felt a momentary qualm of sorrow and doubt. But whatever the reason for his return to her, he was home now, and she wouldn't question the unexpected blessing. In truth, as the days had passed since the fortnight he'd mentioned as the likely time of his return from Andelon, she had started to give up hope he would ever come back to her. It had been nearly a full month since he had left.

"Anneke, run and fetch Balian!" Emmeline was still down for her nap; she would be safe enough in her cot for the moment. Melisande ran down the stairs and out the door to greet the arriving riders.

Colin dismounted, handing the reins of his horse over to Sebastian, who gave her a respectful nod and smile before leading both horses to the stable to tend to them after the long ride from Rhemuth. Melisande threw herself into Colin's arms, half laughing, half crying, as he picked her up and briefly whirled her in the air as if they were dancing at a grand revel together, before setting her down to crouch and scoop his two eldest children into his arms.

"Where's Emmy?" he asked, realizing one child was missing. His eyes shot up to her face in alarm.

"She's still napping," Melisande assured him. "She'll be so happy to see her Papa is home once she awakens."

A slight shadow crossed his face, swiftly chased away with a smile. "Let's go inside. As welcome as the sunshine is today, it's still a little too brisk out here for the children, who seem to have forgotten to wear their cloaks again."  This last phrase was addressed directly to those children, who acknowledged the gentle rebuke with sheepish smiles.

"We only forgot in our haste to see you, Papa," said Balian with a charming grin that was an echo of his father's. "Surely you can't fault us for that just this once?"

Colin laughed. "I suppose not." Glancing at Melisande, he held out his hand to her. She took it, joy restored to her world, as he led them all back into the hunting lodge.

#

Emmeline had awakened by the time Colin entered the lodge and went upstairs to see her. He picked up his youngest and kept all three children occupied while Mellie assembled some light luncheon fare for the family and Sebastian.

He looked around for the servant girl who generally handled the household chores, but the girl was nowhere to be found. "Where is Elysant?"

"In the village. Her father is old and ailing, so I gave her the afternoon off to visit him." Mellie's sparkling blue eyes laughed at him over the table. "I promise my pottage won't kill you."

He took a bite of the simple fare she offered–a bowl of her pottage along with bread and cheese. A far simpler meal than the ones offered in Rhemuth's Great Hall, but no less enjoyable as far as Colin was concerned, because the beloved faces gathered around the table more than made up for the lack of sumptuous removes.

"Papa, was that a new horse you rode here on today?" Balian asked

Colin suppressed a wince. This touched a bit too closely on topics he was hoping to avoid for a little while, until he could spend a few minutes alone with their mother, but he could hardly ignore the question now that it had been asked. "Yes. He was a recent gift. Do you like him?"

"I do!" said Balian. "Can I ride him?"

Mellie shot Colin a look of alarm behind Balian, swiftly shaking her head. 

"I think he's a bit too spirited for you just yet," Colin told his son, "though I've been thinking you will need a pony very soon." Looking back at Melisande, he added, "There's been an opening among the pages. I know it's not much time to prepare, but if I could return to pick up Balian next week to bring him back with me to Rhemuth...?"

"So soon?" Mellie asked softly, looking distressed by the prospect.

He glanced at their children, not wanting to worry them with talk of war and battles, even though most of it would go right over Emmy's head anyway. Anneke might be old enough to understand, and as for Balian, he was still young enough to think such things were like the heroic deeds of old ballads, with little concept of the death and devastation they would leave in their wake. "The latter weeks of March will be here all too soon," he said instead, knowing their mother would understand even if the children did not. "I would see Balian's place in the training assured before I head out. If you would prefer, I could look for a little house in the city where you and the girls could stay, so you could be closer to the castle."

The girls understood that much of the conversation and looked up at their mother with questions in their eyes. Mellie shook her head. Colin could hardly blame her. Before he had moved her to the hunting lodge, he had kept her in an apartment in Rhemuth just a short walk from the castle, which had been far more convenient for him in some ways, but had subjected Mellie to so many wagging tongues that she had spent those early years with him in utter misery. She had been much happier since moving to the relative isolation of the lodge, away from the busybodies, gossips and scolds. For that matter, so had he.

Balian looked cautiously excited by the prospect of going to Rhemuth. "Will I ride a pony to Rhemuth?" Beside him, Sebastian suppressed a chuckle and took a quick bite of his bread and cheese.

"Maybe not just yet," Colin told him. "It takes a little time to find just the right pony, and I'd want you along with me to make sure I select one that is well suited to your needs."

A slight frown crossed Balian's features as another thought came to him. "Will I live with you and your wife?"

Colin dropped his eyes to his bowl as he idly stirred his pottage. That was a subject he definitely did not want to discuss right now!  "No, son, you'll be staying with the other pages. Boys close to your own age who will be learning alongside you. Hopefully you'll make friends with them quickly, would you like that?"

That thought brought the smile back to Balian's face. He had grown up with few playmates besides his sisters, since the village was half an hour's walk away, and the children weren't allowed to venture there on their own unless either Melisande or Elysant was free to accompany them.

"Can't I be a page too?" Anneke asked, scowling at being left out of the discussion of Balian's training.

"Only if you want to move to Llyr," Sebastian joked under his breath, earning a maternal glare from Mellie, softened by a reluctant headshake and smile a moment later.

"I'm afraid not, Anneke, but in another year or two, you'll be old enough to attend the Schola at St. Hilary's," her father assured her. He glanced across the table, meeting his squire's eye. Sebastian nodded, pushing his empty bowl away.

"I have an idea, children!" Sebastian said. "How would you like to go to the stables with me to take a closer look at your Papa's new horse? You mustn't get too close, as I'm not certain he is accustomed to being around small children yet, but while we're there, I can tell you a funny story about all the trouble your Papa's other squires and I had while trying to hide him."

#

Colin helped with the washing up while trying to work up the resolve to begin the private conversation he needed to have with Melisande. While he was still trying to figure out the best way to broach the topic, she beat him to it.

"Did she accept your offer, then?" Mellie asked quietly as she took the clean bowl from him to dry it and put it away.

He wiped down the next bowl, focusing on it as if his very life depended on it. "She did. We married the last day of January." He handed her the bowl. "I'm sorry."

She swallowed, taking the bowl from him as she summoned a smile to her face. "Don't be. I understand the need."  Setting the bowl on the table, she reached up to lay a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "How are you doing?"

He wanted to take her into his arms so badly he trembled with the need, but he knew that was likely to be his undoing. "Not very well, honestly. I miss you, Mellie."

She nodded, her eyes damp. "I know. I miss you as well."

He took a deep breath. "I can't stay tonight, love. I made a promise to her that I would wait until she's carrying my heir before resuming our relationship."

Melisande looked startled. "She knows about me, then?"

"Yes, of course. I wouldn't wed a woman I would have to hide my family from."

Melisande looked away, a worried frown on her face, as she set the dry bowls on the shelf where they were usually stored after use. "She doesn't mind that you have a mistress?"

Colin grabbed another bowl. "I...wouldn't say that, exactly, but she's been quite reasonable about it. She also asked for my promise not to take any other women to my bed."

Melisande gave a reluctant chuckle. "I'm pretty certain that won't be too much of a concern, since you've never strayed from mine." She took the wet bowl from him. "You are going to scour that until it's thin as an eggshell if you don't stop scrubbing at it, Colin!  Stop!"

He gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I guess I needed something to do with my hands." He took her damp hand in his, kissing it reverently. Taking another deep breath, he added. "I was shriven last week, shortly before the wedding. With the war coming up, I figured..."

Her face relaxed into a relieved smile, bright as sunlight. "I'm glad! I've been so worried." Drying her hands on the towel, she gathered him in a loving embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder. He held her close for a long moment, savoring the scent and feel of her, extending his senses to envelop her in hopes of capturing this moment forever.

He sensed something else he wasn't expecting, and drew back, stunned. "Mellie....When was your last flow?"

"I don't remember. Early January, I think? A little before Twelfth Night?" She frowned, trying to remember for certain, since here at the lodge, one day tended to blend in with the next, and she rarely had reason to pay mind to the passage of time. "Why?"

"Did we remember to take precautions, that last time we were together?" Nicholas prayed with all his might that they had, but he could not remember one way or the other. All he remembered for certain of that night was the grief and pain of knowing that he must leave to take a wife, and that nothing from that night forward would ever be the same.

"I don't know...." Mellie said, as the same stunned realization came to her as well. Lifting panicked eyes to his, she added, "Oh, Col! I'm certain it will be fine!"

Colin was far less certain. He had nearly lost Mellie when Emmeline was born. The midwife had cautioned them to be careful not to try for others and had given them ways to prevent further pregnancies. She had also said that while some of those ways were more effective than others, none of those methods were absolutely foolproof, but like a fool he'd trusted them to protect his precious Mellie.... Sweet Jesú, how he hated himself for risking it anyway!

"Mellie, promise me you will seek out the midwife as soon as you can tomorrow!  Maybe it's not too late to...do something...."

"Nicholas Haldane, do not even dare suggest to me that I should do something to rid myself of your child if I am breeding! You already know that I will not. If I am pregnant again, then I will find some other way. Maybe bedrest would help. I can hire another woman from the village to help out."

"Hire two. I'll bring the extra coin for them when I come back next week. But seek out the midwife first thing tomorrow, or better yet, send Elysant to fetch her here." He held her tight. "I mean it, Mellie!" he murmured into her hair. "I couldn't bear to lose you."

#

February 8, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The courtyard gardens
Afternoon

The wintry weather had at least briefly given way to sunshine and even some warmth that, while still very chilly by Andelonian standards, was positively balmy for a February day in Gwynedd, or so Countess Noella of Kierney had assured Princess Catalina as the two women made their way to the courtyard garden together, having been delegated to the task of chaperoning the Haldane Princesses this afternoon by Queen Soraya, who had judged them suitable enough for the task, despite their youth, by right of their ranks and marital status. By some strategic layering of one of her wool kirtles paired with a light cloak, Catalina had almost managed to feel comfortably warm. The Countess, by contrast, seemed well acclimated to the weather in her middle-weight linen kirtle and surcoat, the plaid blanket-like garment she called an arisaid wrapped only loosely around her torso. Catalina surmised that for a native of such a northern region as Kierney, this sunny day in Rhemuth must pass for nearly springlike.

"If you still find this weather a little too cool for an outdoor gathering," Countess Noella was saying, "maybe we can try the Conservatory. It should be warmer in there, yet still very bright and sunny, unlike inside the castle, and the acoustics might be a little better also. I imagine if you still feel the chill in the air, Prince Philippe would also, Your Highness."

"I think the Conservatory should suit admirably," Princess Catalina agreed.

Thus it was that only a short time later, after enough seats had been added to the glass-enclosed space for their guests to gather and relax within, that the young Haldane Princesses, their suitors and their retinues, and several of the younger and mostly unmarried courtiers of the Rhemuth Court settled in for an afternoon of music and lively conversation. Catalina and Noella had been asked to chaperone this merry company. The Queen had originally planned to join them, but King Cinhil had awakened feeling a little more unwell than usual that morning, so she had declined at the last minute to remain with him and see to his comfort.

An hour into the gathering, Catalina was guardedly beginning to consider the event a success, except that the pairings the Dowager Queen had originally meant to result from this opportunity to get to know one another had not been the happy result of the endeavor. Queen Soraya had made it perfectly clear that by the end of the afternoon, she was hoping for her elder daughter Richeldis to have the young Prince of Beldouria's full attention well in hand, while young Elisa was meant to capture the interest of King Dafydd of Llannedd, so that negotiations for their betrothal contracts could begin as early as possible. Instead, in one corner of the conservatory, conversing animatedly with each other, she spotted Princess Elisa and Prince Alarikos renewing a former brief acquaintance with each other, Alarikos apparently quite charmed by Elisa's laughing attempts at conversing with him in broken Torenthi, while she kept stealing admiring glances at his golden curls. On the other side of the space, Princess Richeldis sat a little more sedately, enjoying a conversation with King Dafydd and his traveling companion Prince Philippe, though while Richeldis laughed at King Dafydd's many jests courteously enough and also shared a few amusing anecdotes of her own, it soon became clear that she was far more interested in hearing what his less garrulous friend Prince Philippe of Bremagne had to say whenever King Dafydd allowed him to get in a word edgewise. Philippe, for his part, appeared to be utterly enchanted by Richeldis and impatient to shake off his annoying companion for the sake of having a more private opportunity to get to know her better. Catalina, for her part, was contemplating ways such an opportunity might conveniently be arranged.

"King Dafydd, do I remember correctly that you told me at my father's court that you enjoy playing the telyn rawn?" Catalina asked the visiting monarch when she was finally able to break through his monologue.

"Why, yes, Your Highness, I do!" he replied, looking surprised and delighted that Princess Catalina remembered that detail from their conversation a few years earlier when he had briefly attempted to court her. "I am a master of the instrument, I do daresay!"

"As it happens, we happen to have one here in Rhemuth," she told him, pointing out an ancient one that had been found in one of the storage rooms at the Basilica earlier that morning. "I was hoping you could take a look at it and tell me something of its provenance. I'm afraid my knowledge of your language has grown rusty since my schoolroom days, but there is an inscription carved into it that I'd like to know more about." Catalina steered him away from the grateful couple whose conversation he had been monopolizing and towards the dusty lap harp.

"Hm...yes." King Dafydd examined the old instrument closely, picking it up and bringing it to a sunnier part of the conservatory to take a closer look at the carvings. "The lettering is rather worn down and hard to read, but I think the instrument once belonged to a woman named Elen ferch Ednyved. Where did you say you found this?"

"At St. Hilary's Basilica, in one of the storage rooms, I believe."

"Ah. There was a schola there at one time, was there not?"

"There still is, at least for the younger learners. The older ones now go to the cathedral schola instead. Why do you ask?"

Dafydd pointed out another word carved in the wooden harp frame. "I think that word might be 'Magistra,' though I can't be certain. But it might have belonged to a teacher at your Schola named 'Elen,' or in the Gwyneddan tongue, 'Helena.'" He handed it back to Catalina. "It is far too old to play, but it is certainly a fine looking instrument to put on display, or you could have it restrung. The strings are horsehair, not wire or gut, so you'd want to take it to a Llanneddan craftsman who knows what he's doing if you want it restrung properly." Taking up a nearby lute, he began to pluck the strings. "But if it's music you want, O Fair Rose of Andelon, allow me to sing you a lovely ditty from Howicce...."

Catalina plastered on a patient smile as the King of Llannedd attempted to impress her with badly played lute music and a voice that resembled that of a scalded cat. It was a small sacrifice to pay for the sake of a sister-by-marriage's future happiness.

#

February 8, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The Queen's Tower
Early Evening

Queen Soraya had been quite surprised to receive prompt offers for both her daughters so soon after their suitors had been given the opportunity to develop a closer acquaintance with them. It was not that she had doubted their abilities to be charming and cordial enough to win a potential husband's interest, but her surprise and dismay stemmed from them both ending up being offered for by entirely the wrong man! They had been well coached in which husband each was meant to end up with, but despite knowing her reasons for those matches, her daughters had dared to defy her anyway. Soraya was livid!

"If you want King Dafydd so much, Maman, then you marry him!" Elisa exclaimed, bursting into tears. "You can spend the rest of your days listening to that man natter on about horses and hounds and the right fishing lures to catch trout, and hearing him sing like a tortured cow while he preens insufferably about his many talents! Alarikos is sweet, and kind, and interested in what I have to say, and not in just listening to his own voice so bloody much!"

"Elisa, you will not speak to me with that language and that tone!" Soraya retorted.

"If she won't, then I shall, Maman, because Elisa is right, you're not the one who would have to spend the rest of her days lying next to that man!" Richeldis said, leaping to the defense of her sister.

Soraya wheeled around and glared at Catalina and Noella. "This is all your fault! I entrusted you with a simple task, and see how it turned out!"

Noella, looking as pale as her linen chemise, dared make no reply, but Catalina had had enough. "From where I stand, Madam, it has turned out to be a resounding success. Your daughters have had not just one, but two offers of marriage this evening from men of impeccable bloodlines and high standing, who are both well suited in personality and interests with the men who have expressed an interest in them. Therefore, Gwynedd now has the alliances that we need to strengthen our positions in the upcoming war, for Beldouria certainly has a vested interest in aligning itself with our cause, and as for Bremagne, it is a prosperous kingdom well able to supply us with vital resources."

"But we need King Dafydd's Connaiti troops!" Soraya seethed.

"Then throw money at the man! I am bringing your son some twenty-five thousand gold reals a year in dowry; do you think that we are insufficiently funded to pay for his soldiers? The Connait has supplied mercenaries for centuries before they ever became part of the United Kingdoms; do you think none will respond to the call for men and arms now without seeking Dafydd's permission first? I dare you to spend a full day in the man's company and ask yourself how you could dream to subject either of your daughters to a life of that level of unhappiness! They would wish for deaths in childbed by the end of a full year!"

Soraya turned scarlet with fury. "I did not ask for your opinion, you impertinent child! Get out!" She pointed towards the door.

"Madam, I live here. As I recall, on your invitation," Catalina replied, standing her ground, though Noella looked ready to faint.

"This was not your decision to make!" the Dowager Queen yelled.

"You are entirely correct, it is the King's," Catalina replied. "Which you are not. Thank God Cinhil thinks with his mind and not his pridefulness!"

#

February 8, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The Great Hall
Late evening

Catalina sat at the table just below the dais and High Table for a second night, wondering where her husband was. He had promised to return by nightfall, yet thus far he had yet to put in an appearance at the evening's festivities, which had nearly concluded for the night.

It was well after sunset now. He was not coming.

The Dowager Queen gave the empty spot next to Catalina a meaningful stare before glaring at her, as if assuming it was the Princess's fault she could not summon up the presence of her husband by simply reaching into her belt pouch for the man. Catalina had grown well weary of that woman, whose mood had not been improved by her eldest son's quick assent to the offers brought forward to him for his sisters' hands and the celebratory mood throughout the Great Hall as the proposed nuptials had been announced. Even King Dafydd, after an initial moment of consternation, had reacted with apparent delight for his friend's good fortune. Granted, the offer of a generous amount of coin in exchange for the aid of the Connait's army for hire had likely eased the sting of yet another rejection for him.

Things had turned out happily enough for Catalina's new sisters, though at the moment she was far less happy about Nicholas's prolonged absence. She was well weary of this day.

The Duke of Corwyn rose, ascending the dais to escort King Cinhil back to his private chambers, the signal Catalina needed to be able to make her own departure from the Hall.

It had started to rain again, cold stinging drops which added further insult to her injured mood. Stalking through the upper bailey towards the King's Tower, she encountered Sebastian heading in the direction she'd just left.

"Where is Nicholas?" she asked, pulling his squire to one side of the main path through the bailey.

Sebastian looked startled. "I haven't seen him in well over an hour, Your Highness."

"You left him with his paramour? He was meant to return with you this evening! Tell me he is not planning to return tonight or on the morrow unescorted; you cannot expect me to believe there are no brigands in Gwynedd who might waylay a lone man traveling after dark!" Jesú, she would flay the man alive! Both of them!

"I–No, Madam!" Sebastian appeared quite taken aback, whether by her reprimand or by the sudden need to navigate the perilous waters of discussing his knight's visit to his paramour with his own wife, she neither knew nor cared. "I assure you he returned to Rhemuth with me tonight! He's around here somewhere, I swear it!" At Catalina's unconvinced look, he added, "We arrived at the castle shortly before sunset. I left him in your apartment to freshen up and, I assumed, make ready for the evening meal, though he was hardly in the proper frame of mind for it. He sent me away, I thought just to have a few minutes of peace to regather himself before joining the evening's festivities. He did not join you in the Hall, then?" Sebastian looked increasingly worried, stirring up Catalina's own misgivings.

"He did not. And he missed his sisters' betrothal announcements."

"Oh, Jesú!" Sebastian exhaled a deep breath, considering the matter. "He's gone off somewhere where he could be alone, then, or he may still be in his chamber. He received some news of...a very personal nature earlier today, and he is in deep distress. I beg you, my lady, even if you are minded to be angry with him for not being with you tonight, please spare him your remonstrances until tomorrow. He's...in a very delicate state of mind at the moment."

When is he not? was the first thought that leaped unbidden into Catalina's mind. She took a deep breath, gathering a firmer hold on the tattered and fraying edges of her temper. She could not very well chide her husband's mother for allowing her pride to rule over her reason if she was unwilling to keep her own hurt feelings and anger in check. "Thank you for telling me. I will hear what he has to say, if I should manage to find him."

#

February 8, 1464
Rhemuth Castle
The King's Tower
Night

After a hasty change into warm and dry clothing, Catalina went in search of her missing husband, finding him in the first place she checked, his own bedchamber. Her misgivings turned into outright alarm at the sight of him.

Colin stood by the fireplace, still dressed in the sodden clothing he had evidently arrived home in more than an hour earlier, one hand clutched around a goblet as he stared into the dying fire, seemingly unaware of her entrance. The open bottle on the mantel was nearly empty, and from the broken seal around the bottle's mouth, she surmised it had started out filled with Vezairi port. That did not bode well for the state of her husband's wellbeing the next morning either.

She approached him, gently easing the goblet out of his hand and starting to put it on the mantel next to the bottle that had repeatedly filled it. A second thought stopped her, and she took a deep, fortifying swallow of the port also before setting the vessel aside. She assumed she was likely to need it before this night was over.

"Colin? What is the matter?"

He made no answer, though a brief, downward glance at her acknowledged he had finally registered her presence. He closed his eyes, scrubbing his face with one hand.

She sighed. "Well, let's get you out of these dripping clothes, at least."

#

He vaguely became aware that his wife was undressing him. He reached out a hand to stop her. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice sounding slightly slurred and distant, as if he was watching himself from afar. "I can't. Not tonight."

She looked up at him, those beautiful green eyes incredulous. "Colin, I'm not attempting to make love to you. The very last thing I would do is take advantage of you in this state or in my present mood. But we need to get you out of these clothes; you are soaking wet!"

He looked down at himself, noticing the state of his clothes for the first time. He was barely aware of his body, felt nothing but a dreary numbness enveloping him, threatening to drown him. He would welcome the oblivion.

#

She stripped him off the wet garments with increasing alarm as she worked to tug the clingy fabric off his damp skin. He had retreated deep into himself, but she could sense the turmoil bubbling up within him, slipping through large gaps in his normally tight and neatly ordered shields. She picked up tendrils of what felt like dread, possibly even barely contained terror, though she could not imagine the cause. This was a man who had courageously fought his way through an ambush with no greater fear than any other man in a like situation, leading other men by his example. She did not imagine his current state was brought on by nothing more than anxious thoughts about the war to come.

No, she knew him to be a man of courage, so what could possibly have reduced him to this state?

#

He had a vague sense of increased warmth and realized Catalina had stirred up the dying embers of the fire, coaxing it into renewed life, although he still felt quite dead on the inside. She was doing something to his skin now, and the faintest spark of curiosity empowered him to spare an idle glance back down at her. She appeared to be patting him dry with one of his shirts, using it as a towel.

"Let's get you into bed, Colin," she said quietly. "I need to take a quick look inside your mind to see if I can neutralize at least some of the effects of that port, or you're going to be horribly sick in the morning. I hope that bottle wasn't entirely full when you started."

In his mind? She probably didn't need to be poking around in there; it was a right mess, and there was no telling what she might find. Part of him wanted to summon up the will to resist; the other half of him was beyond caring.

#

She turned down the covers and poured his unresisting body into bed before tucking the eiderdown-filled bedspread back over him. Crawling in next to him, she spooned herself around him, warming his back as he lay there completely unresponsive to her touch, which perhaps was the most alarming symptom of all to Catalina's mind. Not that she was expecting him to be in any frame of mind for amorous pursuits, nor would she encourage him while he was in this fragile state even if he had been, but the simple fact that he seemed to only vaguely register her presence in his bed at all, when every other night before the previous evening's argument he had reached for her eagerly, boldly underscored the level of his deep distress.

She ran her fingers through his hair before laying her hand gently on his temple, closing her eyes and stilling her thoughts to enter trance mode. She was resolved to pry no deeper into his thoughts than he was willing to offer up to her, but the amount of alcohol in his system must be dealt with, for Vezairi port was known to go down smoothly but be as fierce as an entire legion of demonic drummers inside one's skull the following morning, and with the amount he had consumed, it was likely to feel nearly as bad as merasha disruption if not cleared out of his system before then.

There it was! Catalina neutralized the toxins as much as she could until the amount of alcohol remaining in his system had been reduced to a safer level that would hopefully allow him to wake up the next morning not wishing to slice off his own head or deposit the dregs of the consumed port onto his expensive carpet.

#

Colin woke up a few hours later with a somewhat clearer albeit still soul-weary mind, with his sleeping wife curled up around him. For reasons he couldn't quite remember, she was still fully dressed, but he was not. He tried to piece together the events that had led up to this unlikely situation.

As he turned over to face her, she stirred, opening her eyes sleepily, and the memories slammed back into him.

She looked up at his face briefly before closing her eyes again, leaning back into his warmth. "Do you feel able to talk about it now?" she asked quietly.

He brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. "About what?"

"About why my husband was a walking corpse last night," she answered, the tiniest tinge of asperity coloring her voice.

"I assure you, you do not wish to know," he told her, pulling her close to brush a light kiss on her brow. "But thank you for assisting me to bed."

"Colin, I might not wish to know, but I must know. Whatever burdens you affects me also, and it is my business to help you through your struggles if I can, as your wife who cares about your wellbeing. But whatever leaves you in such a state as I discovered you in last night affects the entire kingdom. I need to know what is affecting you so deeply, so I can help you through it."

He sighed. "There's nothing you can do about this problem."

She brushed a kiss, feather light, across his lips. "Tell me anyway."

He swallowed. She would find out soon enough anyway, but he dreaded her reaction. "Mel–My lady is with child again." He pulled away slightly, unable to meet her eyes. "But it happened before I left for Andelon."

There was a long silence before she replied. "Well, clearly so! You're the world's most powerful Deryni, if you can detect the presence of new life mere hours after it sparks into existence. But this isn't her first–"

"She nearly died birthing Emmeline. We were told not to have others, but...I wasn't careful enough. If she dies with this one...."

#

She could sense his emotions beginning to spiral out of control again, his eyes filling with bleak despair as they began to overwhelm him. The darkness was eating him from the inside, but she refused to let it win.

Fighting every self-protective instinct she possessed that urged her to tighten her shields against the influx of emotions welling up in him, she held him close and entered the lightest level of rapport with him instead, allowing the tumultuous maelstrom of self-loathing thoughts to envelop her, siphoning them off. "All right then," she said soothingly, "let's see if we can figure out how to help you regulate these feelings...."

#

Something eased in his mind, as if Catalina had smoothed some form of psychic balm over a wound deep within himself. He still felt his sorrow and fear for Melisande, but the pain no longer threatened to fully overwhelm him, remaining just enough in the background of his thoughts to allow him to think more clearly.

"I'm not sure what you did," he said after a moment of adjusting to this strange clarity of thought, "but thank you."

"I'm not entirely sure I know what I did either," Catalina admitted, "but clearly something needed to be done." She stroked his cheek. "Do your moods generally spiral out of control like this when you are overwhelmed by strong emotions?"

He pondered the question carefully. "I wouldn't say it's a regular occurrence. But...it's happened a few other times before. Not many."

"So not with smaller shifts of mood, but sometimes with sudden major ones, like your crisis of conscience when we first visited the Royal Chapel together, and now the worries you are feeling about Melisande?"

He was startled by the sound of her name coming from his wife's lips. "How did you know her name? I'm certain I've never told you."

She gave a humorless chuckle. "We live in Rhemuth, you numpty." Shaking her head, she slid out from beneath the covers. "Wait there, I'll be right back."

#

She could not believe she was about to do this.

Catalina entered her bedchamber quietly to avoid waking up Amina, opening up her jewelry chest to retrieve a small length of embroidered ribbon from its depths. Silently closing the lid, she returned to Colin's room, where she found him sitting up in bed, regarding her curiously.

She was not doing this for his precious Melisande. But she would offer up this cherished possession for her husband's sake.

"What is this?" he asked as he reached for the embroidered token that she handed him. A moment after his fingers touched it, he stared back up at her, sensing the powerful magic thrumming through his fingertips.

"My mother's handiwork," she told him. "She made it to preserve me through childbirth."

#

He understood the words, but it took a moment for the full meaning to catch up. A sense of guilt speared through him.

"I can't accept this," he said with great reluctance, wanting to keep a firm grasp on this slender ribbon of hope, but also realizing this was far more of a sacrifice than he could ever ask his wife to make for him.

"You must accept it," she told him, curling his fingers around the gift. "Because if the woman you love happens to die while the Kingdom is in peril, and you haven't yet learned whatever is needed to help you manage your grief during such a time, that would endanger us all. I will do my best to help you find some way to deal with such strong passions on your own, but until we've figured out the best solution for that, I see no other choice. I can make another one for myself. Clearly I won't need a new one for another nine or ten months at the earliest."

"Catalina...." He reached out to stroke her hair. "I ask far too much of you."

She laughed. "Yes, you do!" Sobering, she added, "And I am nearly at my breaking point, husband, so I am doing this as much for my own sake as for yours." She crawled back under the covers with him. "Tell her to keep it pinned inside her chemise and to wear it daily. She can remove it at night so the pin won't prick her while she sleeps, but the greater the risk the pregnancy poses for her, the more important it is that she wear the magic next to her skin for as long as possible before she gives birth. The longer she is exposed to the magic, the greater the efficacy of the spell."

"I'll return it to you afterwards, I promise." He drew his wife close to his heart.

"The magic will be spent once it's used. I'll need to make another for myself anyway."

He kissed her hair. "I know. But it's your mother's work. You might wish to have the embroidery as a keepsake."

She pulled away from him, lying back against her pillow and closing her eyes. "There are also preventative magics that have a far higher success rate than the more generally used means of preventing a child from catching in a woman's womb. I don't happen to know any such spells, since a princess is expected to want more children, not fewer. But should you have need for such spellwork in future, you can send a request to the library in Andelon for the necessary instructions. Just don't bloody well ask me for advice on that topic, or I'll suggest amputation." Her eyes shot open, blazing with emerald fire. "Because if she falls pregnant again in future, you won't have leisure to worry, because I will kill you myself."

He chuckled. "If that should ever happen, I'll hand you my sword to do it."

"Goodnight, Colin." She turned her back to him, but made no move away when he curled his arm around her waist.


Next chapter: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3220.0.html

Pawns and Queens spin-off story #2: https://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,3217.0.html

[DerynifanK]

Oh my goodness, what a quandary . I feel for all three of them. However this turns out, there is unhappiness ahead. I hope they all survive what lies ahead.

[DerynifanK]

At least Colin's sisters are happy. Perhaps a way can be found to make Soraya spend a day in King Dafydd's company. In fact maybe that could be a possible marriage for her. She deserves it I'm not sure he does.

[Evie]

Oh my goodness, what a quandary . I feel for all three of them. However this turns out, there is unhappiness ahead. I hope they all survive what lies ahead.

Yes, it's definitely not an easy situation for any of them to be in.

At least Colin's sisters are happy. Perhaps a way can be found to make Soraya spend a day in King Dafydd's company. In fact maybe that could be a possible marriage for her. She deserves it I'm not sure he does.

LOL! Poor Soraya! I think despite being frequently annoyed by her, Cinhil might love his mother too much to approve marrying her off to Dafydd. He's likely heard the man's attempts to sing. 

[DerynifanK]

I have to say Soraya, whether she truly loves her children or not(and I will accept that you say she does) is a bit of a bully who always wants her own way. She doesn't seem to hear anyone else's. After all, she couldn't force the men to offer for her choice. If she had really pushed she could have ended up with no offers.

[Evie]

I have to say Soraya, whether she truly loves her children or not(and I will accept that you say she does) is a bit of a bully who always wants her own way. She doesn't seem to hear anyone else's. After all, she couldn't force the men to offer for her choice. If she had really pushed she could have ended up with no offers.

Soraya is absolutely not her best under extreme stress, and thus far you've never seen her when she hasn't been stressed. And when she is highly stressed, she tends to have a far greater need for control in her personal life to try to make up for the rest of the world feeling completely out of control. She is capable of listening to reason, maybe not right in the moment, but once she calms down a bit. You haven't seen that side of her yet, but eventually you'll see a bit of personal growth.

[Evie]

Oh my, how the chapters have snuck up on me! I have realized there is another spin-off story I probably ought to post before you get next week's chapters, and while it might not be apparent at first how that story fits in with the main story, that should become a little clearer once next week's chapters hit the forum. So keep an eye out for a new story sometime this weekend on the "Pawns and Queens Spin-Off Stories" section of the board. You're welcome! 

[revanne]

Well that was an emotional roller-coaster. I can understand that Soraya is dealing with her grief for Uthyr and everything else that is going on by trying to control everything and everybody. It occurs to me to wonder how much Cinhil's bad day contributed to her bad temper, and Catalina as a daughter-in-law must come as a bit of a shock after the deferential Alixa.
I'm also glad that Soraya and Catalina didn't have their set- to the next morning; it would have been unfortunate if Catalina had incinerated her mother-in-law.

[Evie]

Well that was an emotional roller-coaster. I can understand that Soraya is dealing with her grief for Uthyr and everything else that is going on by trying to control everything and everybody. It occurs to me to wonder how much Cinhil's bad day contributed to her bad temper, and Catalina as a daughter-in-law must come as a bit of a shock after the deferential Alixa.
I'm also glad that Soraya and Catalina didn't have their set- to the next morning; it would have been unfortunate if Catalina had incinerated her mother-in-law.

Quite right! Normally Soraya, as a Dowager Queen, would be sort of semi-retired by now, still available to assist at the Court, but under more usual circumstances the new King and Queen would have most of the responsibility for keeping things running smoothly. But instead of being free to take a step back and mourn her husband in relative peace, she's not had a moment  for herself since Uthyr's death, instead having to deal with even more than she would normally have to take on, what with arranging vital marriage alliances, making sure the wedding went off smoothly, and still being the hostess for all of the festivities needing planning due to all of their royal guests arriving all at once, all while worrying about a beloved firstborn son who is slowly dying in stages and a war that is likely to start in a month or so.

In more normal circumstances, Alixa would have been able to step up and take on most if not all of those responsibilities, but instead Soraya has had to spend the past seven years trying to catch the girl up to speed on what she would need to know to be Queen of Gwynedd, but now that she is the Queen, Cinhil's health has declined to the point that Alixa needs to spend more time being his caretaker than ever before. Fortunately Catalina is there to help out now, and Richeldis and Elisa will still be around a little longer, but those two younger princesses are also very busy preparing for their respective marriages and moves to their future husbands' Courts.

Catalina, in the meantime, is dealing with a lot of stress of her own, and as you point out, is not the least bit deferential, at least when she finds it necessary to speak out. It would take them a little while to adjust to each other even at the best of times, but now is absolutely not the best of times.

[DerynifanK]

They are all under tremendous stress. I am a little surprised that Camber is not more help. Perhaps Nicholas would talk to him  About what is going on and he can help him deal better with his emotions, especially his fear for Mellie. Catalina is amazing but they have a lot to work out. Looking forward to the spin off story.

[DerynifanK]

What a very tangled web you weave! Intriguing. You are an amazing writer.

[Evie]

They are all under tremendous stress. I am a little surprised that Camber is not more help. Perhaps Nicholas would talk to him  About what is going on and he can help him deal better with his emotions, especially his fear for Mellie. Catalina is amazing but they have a lot to work out. Looking forward to the spin off story.

Oh, Camber is working his butt off too, we just haven't had a close look at what he's doing yet. Remember, in addition to being a prince, he's also a priest, so he's got his duties for the Church that he's been doing behind the scenes, plus with a war about to start, he's also doing lots of preparing for that. So if he's not got time to help out the ladies with planning feasts and entertainments for royal guests, it's because he's already got loads of other responsibilities on his plate.

The brothers do sometimes confide in each other, or at least turn to each other for support in moments of crisis, as you will see in a scene here and there down the road, but with everything currently going on right now, finding time for that can be difficult also. Plus, I suspect Nicholas living mostly in Candor Rhea for the past ten years might have unintentionally created a tiny bit of distance between him and the rest of his siblings, which is certainly not insurmountable, but it's hard to just immediately re-establish their former closeness while everyone is currently frantically juggling to get everything done that needs to be taken care of before the war starts.

[DerynifanK]

I do wonder why, if Uther knew he would never allow Colin to marry Mellie, he allowed the relationship to continue without trying to interfere. Especially since Cinhil's long. Illness and declining health pushed Colin into the role of heir. 10 years is a long time. Just curious.
 I have so many questions. I will try to be patient and wait. I am sure answers must be coming.

[Evie]

I do wonder why, if Uther knew he would never allow Colin to marry Mellie, he allowed the relationship to continue without trying to interfere. 10 years is a long time. Just curious.

Earlier on, he would have hoped that Colin and Mellie were merely infatuated and that the relationship would die out in due course, with Colin returning at that point and resuming his duties, thanking Mellie for her services with a nice stipend and of course continuing to support his son.  He would have assumed once Colin had sowed his wild oats, he'd eventually be ready to settle down, get a wife, buy Mellie some nice jewelry, say thank you, and make sure she was set for life.  That's sort of standard practice for a Renaissance prince after all, at least the ones who are just taking a mistress for convenience, to get their needs met before they find a suitable consort.  Later on, as Colin's love for Mellie only increased over the years rather than fizzling out, and more children appeared, Uthyr realized his mistake, but at that point forcing Colin to end the relationship would have driven an irreconcilable wedge between him and his son, who he loved despite their differences. (For that matter, he also cared for Mellie a great deal. He was upset and angry by the situation, but he didn't blame her for it as much as he blamed Colin, who he had assumed would have known better than to put her into that situation in the first place, forgetting that teens aren't thinking on all cylinders yet.) Also, for better or for worse, Colin's children by Mellie are still Uthyr's grandchildren, Haldanes by blood if not by right of royal inheritance, so forcing their father to abandon them would not be in their best interests. Uthyr might have imposed some consequences (you'll notice, for instance, that while Colin's family live at the Royal Lodge, they're not living in splendour there, because the cost of their upkeep is coming fully out of Colin's pocket, not Crown expenses), and he definitely required Colin to put in an appearance in Rhemuth at key times of the year like Easter Court, Christmas Court, Twelfth Night Court and other important occasions, but he's not going to disown his son over the relationship nor leave his grandchildren destitute.

Uthyr didn't approve on Colin's choice, but he considered it a done deal, and he was a bit of a pragmatist about it. He knew Colin, despite his love for Mellie, would eventually do his duty to the Crown if circumstances turned out in such a way that he became the Haldane heir. But remember, ten years ago when Colin's relationship with Mellie began, everyone had every reason to expect that Cinhil would eventually have sons on his own, so it was less of an imperative for Colin to marry and beget heirs quickly back when Cinhil was still in reasonably good health and actively looking for a bride. Even seven years ago when he married Alixa, by which time they knew his illness was one that he would eventually die from, he was in good enough health that they figured he would father at least a son or two before succumbing to his illness. At that point they still thought he had a good ten or fifteen years left, which would have meant he was expected to live probably to his mid-thirties, though something happened not too long after Cinhil's marriage that shortened that life expectancy even further. Seven years ago, no one dreamed that Cinhil and Alixa wouldn't have had at least one child before Uthyr's death. Nor did Uthyr think he was going to die as early as he did, given that he has access to the best of medical and Healer care in the Kingdom, plus he was in great health all the way up to the day he had his unexpected stroke and head injury.

[Demercia]

Thank you, every Monday and Thursday I suffer from a kind of jet lag as I sit down to breakfast in anticipation of a new chapter and remember that I have to wait for the USA to catch up with the sun!  Grateful you are not in the West Coast, Evie.