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There were a few children there, begging in the streets as they did most days. I made sure they had something in their bellies before I moved on, further emptying my basket for the other unfortunate souls who had come as refugees from Wynton and other areas of Hadebrand.
“May God bless you,” an older woman who sat on the ground with her grandchild said as I left extra fruit in her lap. The child’s parents were killed as supporters of Silverhelm after the prior war. The woman reached for my hand, and I allowed her to take it and kiss my knuckles. She was unable to work, and the boy was too young and weak with a sickness to offer her any assistance. I smiled down at her and nodded my head.
As I handed my last apple to a man who seemed to still be in good health though he was thin and ragged looking, I saw Father Tucker approach with a smile on his face. He was followed by a young lad in his service, who carried a bucket of water for the refugees.
“Good morning, Father Tucker,” I said quietly.
“My queen,” he responded as he bowed low to me. I felt heat creep to my face. Though I had grown accustomed to the commoners behaving in such a way, I thought Father Tucker above such behavior. He was a man of God and should not have to bow to anyone else. “How do you fare today?”
“Well,” I responded.
“You are making your rounds ahead of us this morning,” he remarked. “It is still quite early.”
“The sun seemed warm already,” I replied. “I thought it may be too hot for them to wait very long. They will need to seek shelter from the sun.”
He nodded as he peered at my face.
“You seem troubled, my queen.”
“I am fine, thank you,” I replied. He tilted his head and raised his brows at me.
“All is not well in the court?” he asked, his tone nonchalant. He knew well what went on inside the castle walls.
“Branford is troubled,” I said. “Our time is short and…”
I looked around though there was no one too close to us. I did not wish to alarm our people.
“I am still not…” My words faltered.
“I understand, my queen.”
I looked to his eyes, and indeed, they did seem to hold understanding. Perhaps he understood more than I. I felt as though I did not understand any of it, and tears burned in my eyes as I looked at him.
“Why?” I asked him as I tried to blink the tears from my eyes. “Why would we be denied this and have our people placed in harm’s way because of it?”
Father Tucker’s chest rose with his breath.
“Queen Alexandra,” he said softly as his fingers touched my arm, “there is only one who can answer such questions. If that is what you seek, you will have to ask God.”
I nodded, and I knew he was right.
I continued along the walkway, my feet slowly carrying me to a place I had never frequented though I knew Branford had spent many hours at the chapel just outside the walls of Silverhelm Castle. I glanced over my shoulder and saw both Dunstan and Sir Brigham stop at the bottom of the stairs to the doorway as I continued up. They left me in peace as I opened the door to the church and slipped inside. It was cool out of the sun though there was still bright light coming from the windows as well as the candles lining the front of the church near the altar.
I reached out and my fingers grazed over the smooth wood of the pews as I walked down the aisle. The wood was warm, and the morning light coming through the stained glass windows cast bright colors over the floors and benches. I reached the front of the chapel and gathered my skirts to walk up the few stairs that led to the altar. I knelt and looked up at the colorful glass at the back of the church. My lungs filled with the scent of the candles all around as I turned my eyes toward the ceiling.
“I do not know you as Branford does,” I said aloud. “Perhaps that has been my failing. I know Branford asks you time and time again to bless me with a child, and now…well, now it seems that is not to be.”
My voice cracked, and a sob escaped my throat. My own words had a tone of finality to them, and I dropped my head into my hands as I knelt at the altar. I did not understand what I had done wrong to bring all of this upon us.
“Have I not been a good enough wife?” I asked as trails of wetness began to coat my cheeks. “Have I not done what was required of me to be worthy of him? If there is anything I must do to make this work…to stay with Branford and give him the heir he needs myself…anything…I will do it. I just…I do not know what I should do.”
Again, my eyes rose to the heavens.
“Please…please do not let this come to pass. Do not let our people suffer another war because I cannot give my kingdom an heir.”
*****
It was as if my most horrific nightmare was coming true right before my eyes. Court had convened to discuss Edgar’s threat of war. Branford sat on his throne and vehemently refused their decree. He said he would not renounce our marriage even if it meant going to war. The court disagreed, and as they continued to remind him that war would be a slaughter, Branford continued to tell them it would only be a matter of time. His advisor, Phillip, argued with nearly his every word.
