She felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.
“Why would you say I couldn’t possibly care for you? You are wrong. Look at me.”
Surprise seemed to dry the tears. She lifted her head, and he gazed into her eyes.
“You are a brave, good woman who cares for others. You are not what your father said of you. Do you not know this? You are not what he said of you. I care very much for you, and though you may be the queen of the land, I am not leaving you. That is, unless you send me away because you do not want me or need me.”
Elyce threw her arms around him and whispered in his ear, “I do want you. I do need you.”
They held each other close. She buried her face in Sir Gerard’s shoulder, absorbing the thought that they were alone, loving the feel of his arms around her. Was this real? Was everyone truly safe from harm? She started going through people’s faces in her mind, then suddenly said, “Oh! Did you find Ysa’s brothers? Are they well?”
“They are all well and safe.”
“That is good.” But as she remembered her father’s face and his fury at her disloyalty—betrayal, he had called it, and so it was—her stomach sank. “Do you think God blames me for what I did to my father?”
“No.”
“‘Honor thy father and mother,’ the Holy Writ says.”
“It does, and you honored him by treating him with as much respect and kindness as possible in this situation. God sees, and God knows, and He is a just God who is pleased when His children do what is right. Your father didn’t do what was right, but you did.”
His words filled her with a soft warmth, like bread directly from the oven that Cook would give her when she was a little girl. There was a sadness too, though, in knowing that her father could have done the right thing but did not.
What would happen now if she was crowned queen? Would Sir Gerard leave her and go back to England? He said he was not going, but how could he want her after seeing her eruption and hearing her father say all those awful things to her?
She started speaking into his shoulder, her voice muffled against his clothing.
“I know I have been too emotional, and I cry too much, but I don’t want you to leave.”
Sir Gerard took hold of her shoulders again, staring hard into her eyes. She wanted to hide her face so he wouldn’t see her puffy, red eyes.
“I have no plans to go back to England, and I love how emotional you are. You care, deeply, about all the right things. You are not bitter and angry, as you might be, or cold and hard-hearted like your father. He is a terrible father who says terrible, untrue things.”
Indeed, Sir Gerard had a slight scowl on his face as he spoke. But then he refocused his eyes on her and his expression softened, the scowl leaving his face.
“Your emotion makes you beautiful, and you couldn’t be disgusting if you tried.” He settled his hand gently against her cheek. Then he leaned down and kissed her, his lips firm but gentle, turning her stomach inside out as he kissed her more thoroughly than he had before.
Perhaps she truly was not broken, disgusting, or unlovable. Sir Gerard—and his kisses—made her believe it for the first time in her life.
Her heart was pounding, and she suddenly felt overwhelmed. She pulled away and buried her face in his shoulder again, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Thank You, God, that I am not unlovable. Thank You. Please let him stay here with me. I never want him to leave me.
“Princess Elyce?”
Father Johannes was calling her from behind in a loud whisper, Bertold standing with him.
Her cheeks burning, Elyce asked, “Yes, Father Johannes?”
“The crowd outside is restless. Can you go out and speak to them? Perhaps tell them to go home, that all is well.”
“Yes, of course.”
Even as she turned toward Father Johannes and Bertold, she took hold of Sir Gerard’s arm so that he would go with her.
“Explain to them,” Bertold said, “that your father is unharmed—he’s actually locked in his bedchamber at the moment—and that you will be crowned the new queen.”
“Yes, they need some reassurance,” Father Johannes added, “to see you and to see that you are in charge. And Bertold should say a few words about friendship between our kingdoms.”
“I will say a few words, and then Astrid and I wish to be married as soon as possible. You and Sir Gerard and Sir Oswalt can be our witnesses, if you are willing.”
“Tonight?” Elyce asked, joy welling inside her. She remembered the look of love on Astrid’s face when she gazed at Bertold.
“Yes, if Father Johannes will do the honor of officiating. We can have a larger wedding at the cathedral in Valkenfeld later.”
“I am very happy for you,” Sir Gerard said, clapping Bertold on the back.
“Thank you. And I owe this to you and Princess Elyce. If you had not taken shelter in my cabin and forced yourselves on me and my hospitality, I might never have known that Astrid was alive. I never would have come back from the deathlike existence I was living. I owe you a great debt.”
“I am overjoyed that the two of you have found each other again.” Elyce clasped his hand. “And I owe you my thanks, all my people and I. For even though I regret that your brother had to die, and I am very sorry that you have lost your brother and the good man he could have been, he is also no longer a threat to our peace and safety. Thank you for standing up to him.”
“It is a duty I would have liked to forgo. I found no pleasure in killing him, but at the same time, he had allowed himself to become a pawn of evil, and I cannot be sorry for what I did.”
Bertold’s jaw was stony and set, but even that hardness seemed to betray his true feelings of mourning and regret.
Elyce went out to speak to her people, accompanied by Sir Gerard, who stayed behind her, looking watchful, and Bertold, who spoke for a few minutes after she had finished.
It all seemed unreal, like a dream or a hazy memory, though she’d never imagined the things that had taken place today. To take over from her father, while he was still alive, and be crowned queen . . . She’d never heard of such an event at any time in the history of her beloved country, or in any other country, for that matter. Did she even want to be queen? But she wanted what was best for her people, and she would do her best for them.
Sir Gerard had said he had no plans to go back to England, but what would come next for them? Could she even marry a foreigner as the Queen of Montciel?
She still didn’t know if Sir Gerard might want to marry her.
* * *
Gerard and Princess Elyce were the happy witnesses of the wedding of Bertold, the new King of Valkenfeld, and his love, Astrid. Throughout the ceremony, Gerard stood quite close to Princess Elyce and kept hold of her hand in the crook of his arm.
Later, they had a small feast for the happy pair in the Great Hall, but Gerard could hardly take his eyes off Princess Elyce. She seemed even more beautiful than ever, more confident, more at peace with herself. But perhaps he was only imagining it. Since their shared kiss in the chapel, he had not been alone with her, even for a moment, but he could think of little else besides kissing her again.
In a few days she would be the Queen of Montciel. Why would she wish to be with a foreign knight who had nothing of his own besides his sword and a modest amount of coin? How would it feel to marry a queen? Would he be respected only as the husband of the monarch?