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Almost at the same time that he finished dressing, a knock sounded on the door. James ignored it while he finished getting dressed.
I admire him as he tucks in his blouse into his breeches. He should've looked silly in his outfit, after all, the 1400’s weren't exactly the fashion that I was most used to after all this time. But he manages to look beyond beautiful to me. Today he was dressed in red and gold. It somehow managed to bring out the sparkle in his hair. I notice there are lines on his face that hadn’t been there six years ago. I’m sure some of that was because of me.
I sigh, and he looks over at me. I could see the longing in his eyes, the desire for it to go back as it was.
But I wasn't sure that either of us were the same person now. Even without a wife, would that be possible? There was also always the likely chance that I would disappear in a moment’s notice. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.
I wondered, not for the first time, if I just wasn't a good person and this was the universe trying to punish me. After all, I blindly sought out James, knowing that I probably wouldn't be here long. I was willing to let him suffer after I left just for the chance to see him again. Who did that make me as a person?
I decide to save those issues for another day.
"I have meetings all morning," he says as he strides to the door. "When you are ready for breakfast, just pull that rope over there," he says motioning over to the rope that he pulled earlier. He opens the door where I can see a servant waiting.
I suddenly feel desperate for him not to leave the room. What would happen if I disappeared, if this was the last time that I saw him, and I wasn't able to explain anything.
He turns back towards me and my heart skips a beat thinking that maybe somehow, he's read my mind.
"Are you going to be here when I get back?" he asks. I could see that he was trying desperately to keep his face blank, but he had never been very good at hiding the emotions that always shined bright out of his eyes.
"I hope so," I respond, not willing to give him more promises. We stare at each other for a long moment, and then he turns on his heel and leaves the room, taking a piece of me with him.
I lay back down in the bed, a little unsure about what I was going to do. I needed to talk to James, that much was obvious. But I also wanted to talk to Joan and see what she knew.
I had so many questions about myself, I’m sure little that she could answer. The largest being was there a way to control my travel? Now that I had returned to a time similar to when I was born, would the cycle start over again? Would I return back to all the times I had been to before, just a few years later?
Whereas before I had been a complacent passenger on my journey through time, thinking that there was nothing I could do. Seeing James again, no matter the end result, had lit a fire within me.
There had to be someone who could help me figure this out. I couldn't be the only person on earth affected by whatever I had been experiencing for so many years.
My thoughts jumped to my mother. The story had always been that she had just left us one day without warning, but I wondered about that now. It was probably something that I should have connected much earlier, but my grief had prevented me from higher thinking for most of my life. It's like I have been moving through a thick fog my entire life, and now my head had been able to break free.
I have some memories of my mother, very little, but some. In those memories she was a warm and loving figure. I wondered if my memories were just the wishful thinking of a girl who didn't want to believe that her mother had left her willingly, or if they were a sign that maybe she hadn’t wanted to leave at all. There had to be something to that.
A knock on the door sounded, and I sat up quickly.
"Come in," I call, wondering if I had the authority to allow someone to come into the King's chambers.
A timid head peeks through the doorway. "Milady?" a young girl asks softly.
I wasn't used to being addressed as such and it felt strange for someone to use that term. I guess I would've gotten used to it if I had never left the 1400’s.
"Yes, come in," I say gently, waving her to come all the way into the room.
She does so hesitantly, closing the door softly behind her.
"His Majesty asked me to come in and measure you," she says, keeping her eyes averted from my body. I realize that I’m still just wearing James’ blouse.
"Yes, I do think new clothes would be nice. In the meantime, do you have any dresses that I could borrow until you are done making me some?" I ask.
She nods yes. I stand up and stretch out my arms as I try to remember how I used to get measured for clothes in my old life. She approaches me, still keeping her eyes downcast. I try to engage in conversation with her, but she only answers in short yes’s or nos. She seems afraid of me, like I am going to bite off her head in a moment. I wonder why that is.
“How long have you been at the palace?" I ask.
"My mother was hired five years ago. I was able to make my skills as a seamstress better and better and now I assist the Palace Seamstress with her duties.
I nodded, admiring how someone so young had risen up so fast. It took someone especially talented to be allowed to assist the Palace Seamstress.
"Do you measure the Queen for her clothes as well?" I ask, an idea forming in my mind about the cause of the girl’s frightened behavior.
