* * *
One Month Later
Elyce reread the letter from her English friend, Lady Delia. Delia had fallen in love with a knight who’d had his title and estate restored by the king. Her friend spoke in such glowing terms of her love for her husband and her happiness in marriage that Elyce felt a longing ache in her chest.
But since she would never be allowed to fall in love and choose her own husband, the ache might well remain for the rest of her life.
Elyce felt genuinely glad for her friend. Delia had been a faithful correspondent since she had met her a few years before. She had hoped Delia might be able to use her influence to help her, now that she was acquainted with the new queen of King Richard of England. But the missive had left her more disappointed than anything, especially since she was set to marry Rodrigo tomorrow morning.
She read a portion of the letter again.
I’ve written to Queen Anne and asked if she might beg the king to exert his influence on your father and King Claude to convince him not to make you marry Lord Rodrigo and not to force your people to work in the Valkenfeld mines. But I have not yet received a reply.
However, I asked my brother Sir Gerard, who is a skilled swordsman and a knight in the king’s service, to go to you and help you in your quest to save your people. Gerard has prayed and believes he saw a vision from God asking him to go to Montciel. He is recruiting a few other knights to go with him, and they will be at your service, to help you in any way they can. They should only be a few days behind this letter.
“Too bad they will be too late.” Indeed, Elyce was not sure what they could do anyway.
She had a hazy memory of this brother of Delia’s, Sir Gerard. So he was a knight now. Was he as handsome as he’d been a few years ago? He’d been tall and lean, beardless and awkward, as he was not much older than she was. But she’d never forgotten how he looked her in the eye, so straightforward and bold, in spite of his shyness.
So he thought he’d seen a vision. What good could he and a small band of knights do? It no longer mattered anyway. The preparations for the wedding were already underway, and tonight, the night before she was to marry Rodrigo, she would implement her plan.
Ysabeau entered the room carrying a tray of food and drink.
“Cook asked me why you ate so much yesterday but were eating so lightly today.” Ysabeau’s brows were drawn together and her eyes flitted around the room. “Indeed, I am frightened for you, being asleep for so long. It cannot be good for you.”
“Please don’t worry so much, Ysa. You only need to be concerned if I don’t wake up after three days.” Elyce laughed, but Ysabeau did not look amused.
“This whole thing makes me very nervous.”
“All will be well. This will be the salvation not only of me but of the whole kingdom. Do you want your brothers to work in Valkenfeld’s mines, down in the ground every day, unable to tend their sheep or see the sun?”
Already her father had allowed King Claude to take Montciel men and put them to work digging a new mine on the border with Valkenfeld.
“Of course not, but . . . I did not say I would stop you, only that it makes me nervous.”
Elyce patted her hand. “It will all be over in a few days, and I will be free to get help for us.”
“I only wish your father could see what he is driving you to do.”
Elyce liked to think that had her mother lived, she would not have allowed Father to put her in such a predicament, to put their kingdom at the mercy of King Claude. But it had been thusly for so long. And now it was up to Elyce to fight against the powers that kept them all enslaved to King Claude’s will.
The idea of standing up to tyranny to improve the lives of her people made her feel a surge of confidence and hope and reminded her of the time she demanded that the guard stop beating the man in the Marktplatz.
“Did you tell Cook that I am not hungry because I’m nervous about my wedding?”
“I told her to mind her own business.”
“You did not!” Elyce laughed.
“I told her that what our princess ate or did not eat should be of no concern to her.”
“Thank you, Ysa. No wonder I trust you and Jacob more than anyone else.”
“You trust us the most because we are the only ones loyal enough to you to let you attempt such a foolhardy thing.”
“And to not tell anyone.”
“Only if everything goes as planned. If you don’t wake up—”
“Even then, you mustn’t tell. You can fetch Frau Saacha to come help.”
“Frau Saacha.” Ysabeau blew out a breath. “I am not at all sure you should be trusting her.”
They had been over all of this before. Jacob’s sister had vouched for Frau Saacha being very skilled at making potions and possessed of healing knowledge, even if she had not been to church or confession in many years.
“Let us talk of something else.” Elyce was nervous too, but she could not admit that or she might start to question her decision.
Ysabeau talked of her oldest brother’s newborn child while Elyce began to nibble at the after-dinner repast Ysabeau had brought her. Even if Frau Saacha had not told her to eat lightly the day before drinking the potion, Elyce’s nervousness would have prevented her from eating very much.
She planned to stay up all night and drink the sleeping potion an hour or two before sunrise, so that Ysabeau could scream later that morning—her supposed wedding day—saying that Elyce was not waking up, and Father and King Claude would find her unresponsive and think she was dead.
She did not like to think about causing pain and grief to her father, even though she did feel abandoned by him, but it could not be helped. It was for the greater good. Besides, acting on her feelings of empathy for her father could ruin the lives of all her country’s people. No, she must be strong and make her decisions based on what was best, not on her emotions.
Elyce could see the wisdom in not always acting upon her emotions. But why had God given her emotions, if they were always bad and untrustworthy? Should she be emotionless, like her aunt, who never mentioned her husband, never had children of her own, and didn’t seem to mind? She did not feel love for anyone, as far as Elyce could tell.
The Holy Scriptures said that God was love. Love was an emotion, was it not? But perhaps love was the only worthy emotion. It was all so confusing.
“Go on and get some sleep,” Elyce said to Ysabeau, noticing her eyes were a bit bloodshot and her lids droopy.
“Wake me before you drink the potion.”
“I will.”
Ysabeau lay down on a small bed in the corner of the room while Elyce worked on a tapestry she’d been embroidering. When she grew tired of that and her thoughts began to tangle and spin with all the things that might go wrong, she took up her pen and started to write out her thoughts, as she often did when her mind was unsettled. After half an hour of writing her feelings, she began to write how she wished she felt.
I am at peace and happy at the prospect of taking control of my life and the lives of my people. I am confident God will wake me up at the right time, not too early and not too late. God will help me prevent King Claude from gaining control over Montciel and my people. My people will be happy and content, able to tend their sheep and live their lives in freedom, and I will know that I helped bring that about. And someday I will find enough favor with God for Him to give me my own love, a husband who will love me, even with all my weaknesses, strong emotions, and impulsiveness, and who will not be cruel to me, will not ignore me, and will not use me for his own selfish interests.