“Ysa? Something is wrong. I can tell.” Elyce slid across the bed to sit beside her. But Elyce was hungry, too, and she also took a bite of a roll, all the while staring into Ysa’s downturned face.
“You know I have always served you faithfully, have I not?” Ysa said softly.
“Yes, of course. You have been a friend and confidante, and I am grateful for you.”
“Then please don’t try to carry out your plan of overthrowing your father. Please. Just marry Count Rodrigo and do as your father and King Claude have said.”
“But we talked about the plan with Dimitry and he’s going to try—”
“That is exactly the problem. He is all excited to help fight against two kings, and he’s going to get himself killed, as well as the rest of my brothers, and anyone else who tries to fight.”
“But if we don’t fight—”
“If we don’t fight, then yes, some of our men will be put to work in the Valkenfeld mines. But if we do fight, they’ll be killed, and my four brothers will be the first to die.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing, or maybe you think you’re in love with Sir Gerard and will get to marry him if you don’t marry Rodrigo, but please. Please, just marry Rodrigo. You don’t understand how cruel and powerful King Claude is.”
“Ysa, I do understand, but I don’t want our people to be slaves. Do you?”
“You don’t have brothers, people you love and have hopes for. You don’t know what it is like to worry about them and want them to stay alive, no matter what. You don’t understand.”
Ysa’s words felt like a cold hand shoved in her face. No, she didn’t have brothers. She didn’t have anyone.
Ysa’s family may have been relatively poor, a sheepherding family who worked hard every day, but Ysa also had a mother and father, four brothers and two sisters-in-law, nieces and nephews. She had people who loved her.
“Perhaps I don’t understand,” she whispered, a knife twisting in her chest.
“And you think you will be happy married to Sir Gerard, but he is just a knight. He will return to England, and we will be left here to suffer whatever terrible things King Claude has in store for us. Do you think a knight can save us from King Claude?”
“Why are you saying these cruel things?” Elyce pressed a hand to her chest, against the pain that twisted there.
“Because they are true. This is what it has come to, and you cannot change it. You tried, but you failed, and now you have to accept it, or my brothers will be killed.” A tear was drying on Ysa’s cheek as she stared back at her.
The cold, almost angry look on Ysa’s face did nothing to dispel the pain in Elyce’s chest.
So they had turned Ysa against her. Did Ysa’s brothers feel as she did? Or would they fight and, indeed, be killed by Claude’s men as Ysa feared? Ysa would never forgive her if she caused harm to come to her brothers. And Elyce wasn’t sure she could bear to live with the knowledge that Ysa hated her.
Ysa began to eat from the tray of food, which was more than enough for both of them. But Elyce lay back down on her bed, nibbling at the bread in her hand. God, is this what You want? For me to marry Rodrigo?
Something inside her said she had to fight. She had to. Who else was going to fight for her people? Even Ysa had given up.
Elyce had been the Princess of Montciel all her life, and she would be the best possible Princess of Montciel, or she would die trying. How else could she gain her people’s love if she did not fight for them?
God, please, I know You are more powerful than any earthly king. More powerful than any of my enemies. Don’t let anything bad happen to Ysa’s brothers, but give us victory over Montciel’s enemies, against the men who would cause us harm for their own gain.
She pressed her hands tightly together. And please keep Sir Gerard safe from harm, and let him come back for me, fight for me, and not leave me. I love him.
Tears squeezed from behind her tightly closed eyelids. It was a relief to cry after feeling so dead inside.
She had made her decision. As much as it filled her with dread to do so, she would not listen to Ysa’s pleas for her to marry Rodrigo and give in without a fight. She could not count on Ysa’s help, so she was not sure how she would carry out her plan, but somehow she had to.
Twenty-One
The next morning, while Ysa was helping her get dressed, Elyce listened hard for the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside her door. Finally, she heard a knock, then the sound of the key in the lock. A servant maiden came inside.
“Ysa, will you go and get me my blue veil? I think it’s in the trunk in the dressmaker’s room.”
“Very well.”
Ysa went to find the veil while the servant, who had been let into the room by a guard standing in the open doorway, came to fetch their breakfast tray. What she was about to do might not be wise and might not work, but she had to try.
Elyce went to stand next to the servant, then glanced back at the door. Thankfully, the guard was looking down the hallway instead of at them.
Elyce hurried to whisper in the maiden’s ear, “Is Jacob here?”
The servant gave a quick nod as she began to pick up the spoons, bowls, and leftover food, which Elyce had made sure to leave in disarray, and placed them on the tray. The maiden now had her back to the guard.
“Please tell him I will be in the chapel.”
The servant nodded again. “I will.”
“Thank you. What is your name?” Elyce smiled at the servant, a girl she had not seen before.
“My name is Ingrid, Princess Elyce.” She sank into a curtsy, then picked up the tray.
“Thank you, Ingrid. I am going to the chapel to pray, and I shall say a prayer for you.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” She left the room.
The guard closed the door and locked it.
“Here is your veil,” Ysa said, frowning as she handed it to her. “Although I don’t know why you wanted it.”
“I want to wear it while I pray.”
Elyce strode to the door and rapped on it with her knuckles until she heard it opening. The guard did not speak, only stared at her through the crack in the open door. “I wish to go to the chapel to pray.”
“I was not told that you were allowed to go anywhere.”
“I am the Princess of Montciel. I am allowed to go to my own chapel. Let me pass.”
“You will have to wait here until I get permission for you to go— Stop!”
Elyce pushed past him, counting on the fact that the young guard would not put his hands on her when she forced her way around him. And she was right. He came after her, walking almost on her heels.
“Come back! Stop!”
“I’m only going to the chapel. Perhaps you should go and get permission for me to be there.” She hurried on her way, pinning her veil to her hair as she went, the sheer fabric flying behind her.
When she reached the chapel, the guard made a blustering sound as he broke into a run in the opposite direction.
It worked!
Elyce pressed her hand against the folded-up note that was hidden in her sleeve, reassuring herself that it was still there.