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That she did not address her properly or even welcome her pleasantly left Tavia feeling uncomfortable with the woman.
Tavia took a fortifying breath, lifted the hem of her garments and ascended up the stairs slowly. After three steps, she stopped, the pain tightening her leg. She looked to where Marta waited at the top, her face more pinched than before if possible, and the distance seemed insurmountable. How would she ever make it?
She took two more steps and cringed, sucking in the pain with a deep breath.
Suddenly, she was swept off her feet and into her husband’s arms, his face a mask of anger.
“You cannot even climb the stairs,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time annoyed at himself for leaving her to ride her horse as long as she had. She suffered because of him, and it annoyed him even more that he had been struck with a fiery sense of jealousy when he had seen her in the arms of another man. But how did he trust her when she had tricked him once already?
She thought to say something, but what good would it do. Still, she found herself unable to hold her tongue. “I do not need your help, nor do I want it.”
Bhric stopped mid-way up and placed her on her feet. “Then finish the steps yourself and the ones that will take you to your bedchamber. And make sure you are ready to join the celebration of our marriage tonight in the Great Hall.” He pointed up the remaining stairs. “Go!”
Tavia’s glance followed where he pointed. Several stairs awaited her before she entered the keep and how many stairs would she need to climb to reach her bedchamber? More climbing would only add to her discomfort. How then would she ever be able to attend the celebration tonight if she were not wise enough to accept help now.
“You may not want my help, but you need my help,” Bhric said. “You not only have a limp that limits you, but you also have a tongue that speaks before thinking, a fault that can prove foolish.”
Tavia tilted her chin stubbornly, hoisted her garments and took careful and slow steps up the stairs. Tears soon brimmed her eyes, every step more painful than the last. She reached the top and stood gaining her strength to continue.
Once again, she was scooped up into her husband’s arms. “Your foolishness is unwise.”
Exhaustion took hold and she cared not what he thought. She laid her head on his shoulder relieved to be off her leg. And as much as she did not want to admit it, he was right. Foolishness was unwise. She was limited to what she could do to a certain extent especially when her leg pained her. It did her little good to think she could change that. It was better she accepted it and worked around it, which she had been successfully doing until her husband had arrived.
Bhric remained silent as he carried her through the keep and up the stone stairs. It bothered him to see his wife in pain. She might not be the wife of his choice, but she was his wife and he protected and cared for what was his. Though, how this marriage could prove fruitful was another matter when there was little trust between them.
He took the numerous steps quickly and entered a bedchamber, his broad shoulders pushing the door that stood ajar open all the way.
“These are your quarters,” Bhric said after placing her on the bed. Mine are through that door.” He gave a nod to a wood door not far from the fireplace. You will not enter there without permission.”
Feeling the need for the same privacy, she said, “And you will not enter mine without permission.”
“I need no permission to enter any room in this keep and I never knock,” he warned.
His glare was intense almost as if he could peer into her mind and know her deepest thoughts. She crossed her arms over her chest offering herself some minor protection.
She did not know why she called out what she did when he turned and walked away, perhaps a beginning of sorts if possible. “We need to talk, husband.”
Bhric turned. “It will not be talking we do when I enter this room next.”
She had no reply for him, too shocked by his words, and his rapid departure.
Marta stepped forward. “I will help you refresh yourself, then you will rest so you are ready for the festivities tonight.”
Tavia spied the bucket of water and stack of cloths by the hearth. She had what she needed to see to her leg.
“I appreciate your help, but I have no need of it. You are dismissed,” Tavia said, feeling uneasy with the woman’s obvious dislike of her.
“I have been ordered to tend you,” Marta said defiantly.
Tavia felt a fright as the woman approached and instinct had her pointing her finger at the woman and speaking with authority. “I have given you an order. Take your leave now.”
The woman hesitated, casting Tavia a strange look, and appeared as if to argue with her when a knock sounded at the door.
“It is Hertha, my lady, I have come to tend you.”
“Let her in,” Tavia ordered, and Marta went to the door.
Hertha did not wait for permission to enter, she pushed past the woman, and went straight to Tavia.
