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“He’s been very kind to me,” I replied. I knew exactly what Sunniva was truly asking, and I could not come right out and speak dishonestly to her. I also could not tell her of our lack of a wedding night, but I could refrain from lying. When we had first entered his room after our wedding reception, he had been far from gentle, and I had heard a man’s lust could become out of control, and he could become a beast even if he was normally a kind soul. Sunniva looked at me through her lashes but didn’t pry any further. I chose that moment to divert the subject. “He was very angry with the carriage driver though.”
“Branford has always been a very passionate man,” Sunniva said with a sigh. “When he feels something, he feels it very deeply. He is fiercely loyal to his family and expects the same from those around him. When he feels he has been wronged in some way, he often lets his temper get the better of him. I suppose we shall have to find another driver.”
“He will lose his job?”
“I had assumed he lost his life,” Sunniva said as she looked up from her sewing again. “Branford doesn’t tend to forgive transgressions. Are you telling me he still lives?”
“I asked Branford not to harm the man,” I said quietly.
She looked at me for a long moment.
“And he stayed his hand?”
I nodded, and Sunniva smiled.
“I’m pleased to hear you say that.” Sunniva’s smile did not falter as she tilted her head back to the hemline of the dress. I did the same, realizing I was falling quite behind, as she was nearing the halfway point around the first of the skirts. Not only could the queen sew, but she was also quite good at the task. Working together, we would be done quickly.
Without warning, the door opened, and the dark-haired woman from the grand hall entered and quickly approached, her skirts gathered up in her hands so as not to impede her gait. Her gaze danced from me to Sunniva, and I noticed her eyes sparkled like green gems, the same as Branford’s.
“Ida, I do wish you would knock.”
“Sorry, Mother,” she replied. She walked straight over to me. “I wanted to let you know I am not angry with you. I'm angry with Branford for being a complete ass, but that's not your fault. He’s always been that way.”
“Ida, don't swear.”
“Yes, Mother.” Ida looked contrite, but only for a moment. “But he promised me when we were ten! Ten! For twelve years I have been planning his wedding!”
“I do recall the conversations.”
“He went back on his word,” Ida exclaimed, “and isn’t there a law of chivalry that tells him he can’t do that? Didn’t he take some sort of oath?”
“Of course he did,” Sunniva responded, her calm voice in contrast to Ida’s frantic one. “I don’t recall any of them specifically addressing the planning of a wedding, though.”
“Well, there has to be something about keeping your word to your sister!” Ida stepped forward and abruptly leaned over me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and hugging me tightly. “I'm glad you're not Whitney.”
Whatever calm I had felt from the simple act of sewing had completely vanished. I shrank back in my seat a little, but Branford’s sister did not appear to notice as she hugged me tighter still before finally releasing me and taking a step back. She looked me up and down, taking in the sewing on my lap as well as Sunniva’s. The queen did not appear to be at all surprised by Ida’s behavior and had gone back to the needlework.
“You’re very pretty,” Ida said abruptly, and I felt the heat rise to my face. “You have a skill, too, which means you can’t possibly be a member of the court at Hadebrand.”
“Ida, don’t be insulting.”
“I’m not insulting her,” Ida said, defending herself. “I’m complimenting her. It’s Alexandra, correct?”
“Yes, um…Lady Ida,” I replied.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Even if I didn’t get to be there, Branford is still my brother, so that makes you my sister. Right, Mother?”
“Of course it does,” Sunniva said with a nod. Ida beamed and reached down to hug me again. I couldn’t help but cringe a little, and this time she seemed to notice.
“I always wanted a sister,” Ida said and smiled at me. She narrowed her eyes a moment, studying me intently. “You’re not from the court at another kingdom, either, are you?”
“No…um…Ida,” I stammered and tried to keep my hands from shaking. Though I knew she was trying to be kind, this
woman, who was even smaller than me, was quite intimidating. “I’m a handmaid. I mean, I was a handmaid. I was one of Princess Whitney’s handmaids.”
Ida’s eyes grew wide as realization must have come to her.
“Oh, Branford,” she said softly. “What are you doing?”
