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Twenty-six
For a full se’nnight, Amiria had chosen to remain enclosed within her chamber, no doubt coming to grips with the death of her guardsman. She refused to admit Dristan, or anyone else for that matter, into her self-imposed sanctuary, nor did she descend below to the Great Hall to break her fast in his presence. ’Twas apparent she felt Devon’s death was his fault, although she, as much as anyone, should know that death is the price one must pay for the cost of war, securing of lands, and protecting one’s people.
His patience at an end, Dristan climbed the spiral stone stairs and made his way along the passageway towards her chamber. He was not surprised to see her captain standing guard at her door as if some harm might befall her whilst she resided inside her room. He glanced at Ian and felt a hint of jealousy rear its ugly head, causing a mighty scowl to appear on his brow. Aye, he had been told how Ian had held Amiria within his arms and Dristan’s irritation with that small measure of knowledge caused his temper to rise with each step he took.
Dristan strode to stand afore Ian, who looked him in the eye. Was that perchance a hint of anger or arrogance he saw mixed within the younger man’s hazel eyes?
“My lord,” Ian said with a slight bow.
“There is no need to stand guard whilst I am within my keep,” he voiced coolly. He slapped his gloves against his leg, trying not to let his anger get the best of him.
“’Tis a habit,” Ian replied, just as inhospitably with a shrug of his shoulder. “Besides . . . there is always mischief afoot surrounding Amiria.”
“No harm will befall her as she has me to defend her now.”
Ian hesitated only momentarily afore he found his voice. “Do you mean to release me then from my vow to protect her?”
“Aye. She and the other children are now my concern and I will see to their welfare,” Dristan declared, almost daring Ian to challenge him.
Ian opened his mouth but no sound emitted and he shut his lips with a snap. “I see.”
Dristan watched a multitude of emotions rush across Ian’s features. ’Twas clear he felt more for the woman he guarded than just being her captain and suddenly it dawned on him just how much Ian cared for Amiria.
“Bloody hell,” Dristan grunted hoarsely, “you are in love with her!”
Ian’s crestfallen look spoke for itself. “What is there not to love, my lord?” he asked quietly with a strained smile.
“This poses somewhat of a difficulty. You have heard Amiria will be my wife, have you not?”
“’Tis hard not to hear the goings on of the castle gossip, my liege,” Ian answered glumly. “Her parents would not be pleased you have made her nothing more than your whore.”
“You dare speak to me thusly or are you just a fool, who speaks with no thought to your life?” Dristan roared.
“’Tis the truth is it not? I, at least, would have made her my lady wife already if only I were more than just a guardsman,” he said gruffly. “Without lands of my own or a title of merit and worth, she is far beyond my reach no matter the feelings I have for her.”
“You were charged to guard her Ian, not fall in love with her. You should have known nothing good would come from such a situation. Does she know of your feelings for her then?”
Ian pondered his answer as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, I suppose she does, but that is of no consequence at this point. What is more important is what you feel for her.”
“’That, Ian, is none of your concern,” Dristan huffed in annoyance.
“No disrespect intended, my lord, but who else would champion her cause if I do not do so myself? You have made it abundantly clear you care not what others think of her situation by not making her your wife. You may release me from my vow to protect her and my service to you for there is nothing I can do about such an occurrence. But I shall not rest ’til I am sure my lady has been properly wed, and you will care for her along with the other bairn’s,” Ian threatened.
“You dare much.”
“Aye, I dare much, my lord! I made a vow to her dying father and will not besmirch his memory by not keeping my word. It means all to me, for I have nothing left but my honor. ’Tis at stake if I do not make every effort to keep my oath made to a man who took his last breath at my feet. Surely you would not ask such of me, or would you?”
Dristan took in the younger man afore him and had to admire his determination to see Amiria settled and to uphold his honor. As a knight of the realm he understood. He shook his head that he could be so blind in the treatment of the woman he would take to wife.
“I hear your words, Ian, but tell me this . . . do you plan to just stand aside and watch her wed another? Considering how you feel for her? To be honest, even I myself would find such a task most difficult.”
Ian sighed and relaxed his stance. “All I ask is that you do what is proper, my lord, and make her a whore no longer. Then, and only then, will I ask you to release me from my pledge of fealty,” he promised calmly. “I love her most deeply, wishing only her happiness, and yet I fear I must leave this place. I do not believe I could endure the torment of seeing her love another.”
Dristan was surprised at his words. “You believe she loves me then?”
“Open your eyes, my Lord Dristan, and see what is afore you,” he said. “All the world can see the love she has for you shining in those magnificent eyes of hers.”
Dristan nodded at Ian’s words as their meaning began to take root inside him and slowly sink in. He patted Ian on the back, cleared his throat, and stood afore Amiria’s door. He knocked for entry. He was not surprised when silence was his only answer.
“You might as well get used to your patience being tried at every turn, my lord. She is most stubborn or even persuasive when the need arises,” Ian drawled wryly. “I myself would not have her any other way.”
Dristan glared at the man, ’til Ian laughed smugly and made his way down the passageway, leaving his liege glaring at the solid wood portal. He stared at the loathsome door as if ’twas an enemy to be conquered.
He grabbed his sword and banged the obnoxious object afore him with its hilt. The sound echoed off the walls, and yet still it stood firmly shut afore him, barring his way from the woman within. ’Twas only the threat he gave her that he would break the wood down if he must that Amiria at last conceded and opened the door.
Her appearance gave him pause, for she was utterly disheveled. She slowly went to sit afore the fire lit in the hearth, and he swore to himself whilst watching her hands shake. Red puffy eyelids from her tears nearly rivaled the color of her hair. He was not surprised to see her in hose and tunic, although her garments would be beneficial to the outing he had originally had in mind for them this day.
Amiria began to run her fingers through her glorious mane of hair and quickly made fast work of threading her tresses into a fat braid. With a complete look of disinterest thrown in his direction, she turned back towards the fire, clearly indicating she planned to ignore him.
Dristan, on the other hand, only leaned upon the doorframe, crossed his arms, and took in the view of perfection that was afore him. Aye, perfect she was for him in every way, and, at last, he could admit that truth if only to himself. He was still unsure if he could trust her as yet with the tender care of his much guarded heart.
Only the crackling of the fire, as the wood snapped and hissed, broke the deafening silence of the chamber. When Amiria could at last stand it no more, she turned to face the one who had been tormenting her every waking hour. She would not even begin to give way to what agony her dreams gave her during her sleep. It only irritated her further to see a charming grin plastered on his handsome rugged face.
“Something amuses you?” she inquired sharply.
“Aye.”
Ach, she thought; a simple, annoying answer that grated on her already stretched nerves. “I have no desire to have speech with you, or any other for that matter.”
“That means naught to me for we will have speech together, Amiria, among other things,” he declared knowingly.
“I think not, my lord. Besides . . . I am in mourning.”
“Aye, you are in mourning for the lad, and yet Devon would not wish you to grieve for him so,” he drawled grimly.
“You dare to tell me how I should mourn the loss of my guardsman? Devon died in front of me. I grew up with him. Are you so callous and heartless, Dristan, that you do not mourn him, as well, no matter that he only served you most recently?” she screamed at him.
“Merde! Amiria, we were ambushed. ’Twas nothing anyone could do,” he thundered. “You yourself were among those soldiers who helped to defend this castle. The price of war is high, Amiria. You know that! Sometimes that price is costly. By Saint Michael’s wings, woman, I should not have to explain this to you.”
“You could show some remorse, you heartless bastard!”
He pushed off the doorframe, threw his gloves in frustration upon the bed, and came to stand afore her. “My birthright is not in question here. Aye, I mourn the lad, but in my own way. If I showed such weakness afore my men, I would lose their respect, so I keep those feelings unto myself. You would do well to do the same.”
Amiria had no words of reply and only continued to stare off into the flames of the fire. ’Twas not ’til he thrust his hand in front of her that she glanced up into his unwavering grey eyes.
“Come with me,” he commanded.
She gazed at the proffered limb and felt a weariness overcome her. Not having the energy to fight with him further this day, she could only stare at his hand as if seeing it for the first time.
“You are a most annoying man,” she proclaimed softly. “Will it always be thusly with us do you suppose?”
“Aye. I’m afraid ours will be a stormy relationship with a constant battle of wills waged between us,” he said gruffly. “Better that than the alternative of being bored, ma petite!”
“I will cower afore no man,” she said boldly. “You should know that by now.”
“As long as you know the same holds true for me, Amiria. I am lord here and no woman, you or any other, will ever lead me about by the nose,” Dristan said with a stern warning look. “But know you this . . . I would rather you stand beside me willingly and accept me as not only your lord but as your husband. I do not relish a lifetime of war between us, my lady.”
“Accepting you as husband may be easier said than done, my lord.”
“Perchance ’twill not be as difficult as you may think,” he said huskily as he once more extended out his hand for her to take. “Now, as I said, come with me. Such loveliness is not meant to be stifled between the walls of our keep, but instead should be outside where it may thrive in nature’s glory.”
His compliment took Amiria by surprise, especially when he referred to the keep as their home. She finally placed her hand within his, and he gently pulled her to her feet. She felt a tremor pass between them, leaving her slightly breathless and in awe of how she felt when she was with this man. From his startled expression, Amiria knew, without any doubt, he had felt it too. She saw the edges of his mouth lift in an ever so slight smile, and she returned it with one of her own.
Encouraged the day may yet be salvaged with the thought of being outdoors, Amiria willingly walked alongside Dristan. ’Twas not ’til he captured her hand, with a twinkle in his eyes, and placed it on his arm as they reached the Great Hall that she began to enjoy the sensation of being in his company. Perchance, if she but wished hard enough, there would be hope for their match after all!
