Royal Feud

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Suddenly six male dancers, wearing elaborate papier-mâché headdresses shaped like horns and strung with bells, bounded into the hall from outside. The crowd parted, their shrieks of laughter piercing the night. The audience clapped rhythmically as the dancers whirled faster and the minstrels played louder. The racker besieged Hermione; the unruly commotion further shredded her nerves.

When the dance ceased, each of the performers pranced out into the center of the hall and took a bow. The audience applauded each one, signaling by the level of their clapping the depth of their appreciation for each participant. When the best dancer was chosen by acclamation, a hard round cake was placed on his head. After being crowned, the best beast danced wildly, trying to shake the cake off its horns without using his hands. There was much laughter and heckling as the other five dancers mimicked the best beast and the spectators wagered where the cake would fall.

Lucy leaned toward Hermione. "My dear, the crowd is becoming a little too

rowdy. I believe 'tis time for me to take you upstairs to your chamber."

Hermione glanced at Delvin, standing next to his mother. He did not return her look. and his stoic face revealed nothing. She dreaded being alone with this warrior. He could snap her neck as easily as he now drained the wine from his cup. "Aye," Hermione murmured.

Lucy took her arm and entwined it with hers as she drew Hermione toward the

stairs. Cringing, Hermione tried to ignore the whispers that slithered around them. She

could only imagine the things they were thinking and saying.

"I had the servants bring in your clothes chest and unpack your belongings," Lucy explained as they climbed the stairs. "I have been a very happy wife and mother here at Ishton. I hope you will be the same." When they reached the second level, Lucy led the way down the gallery along

the east side of the donjon, gesturing at the closed doors they passed. "This first chamber is the ladies' solar. I have taken over this next room as my bedchamber. And this is the lord's bedchamber, which you will share with Delvin."

Lucy stopped in front of the third door, opened it, and stood back so Hermione could enter the chamber. The sight of the large bed dominating the room caused Hermione's throat to close. At any other time she would have found pleasure in the rich furnishings, the dark burgundy linen hangings framing the bed, and the massive fur spread over the top of the mattress. Now she could only look at the bed with apprehension and dread.

Wooden shutters covered the window located on the outside stone wall. The stone seat below the window was padded with a long, thick burgundy pillow. Hermione's chest had been placed along one wooden wall next to a finely carved armoire, presumably filled with her new husband's clothes. Two wooden chairs, a settle with a burgundy cushion, and a small table completed the furnishings. A lit brazier dispelled some of the winter chill from the room. "I thought you might feel more at ease if I attended you alone." Lucy shut the

door behind them. "But if you prefer, I can call some of the other ladies to join us. "Nay. Thank you," Hermione said.

"Shall I brush your hair? That always makes me feel more relaxed." Hermione nodded. Lucy picked up one of the chairs and carried it over to the side

of the room, placing it next to the small table. Turning, she held out her hand to Hermione. "Sit down, my dear. At the end of a day, I always feel better when I can take off my wimple and let my hair down."

Hermione joined the older woman and obediently took a seat. Lucy pulled out the pins holding the black veil over Hermione's head and dropped them into a small pile on the table. Next she unpinned the band of fabric around Hermione's forehead and then removed the second band that ran under Hermione's chin. After removing the pins. securing the mass of Hermione's hair on top of her head, Lucy unplaited the braids, running her fingers through the strands to loosen them. Picking up the brush from the table, she gently pulled it through Hermione's hair.

"You have beautiful hair, my dear. "Tis a lovely shade of brown. In certain angles it

shines with these gorgeous reddish flecks." Hermione tried to relax and enjoy Lucy's ministrations. The last time anyone had brushed her hair had been five long years ago, before she had been sent back to Morety. Fortunately, the older woman's soothing chatter required no response from her.

"There." Lucy set the brush on the table. "Let us get you undressed and ready.

for bed. Why do you not take off your shoes and hose while I turn down the bed?"

Lucy went to the bed and pulled down the covers as Hermione complied. When

she was barefooted, Hermione stood so Lucy could pull off her kirtle.

"Get in bed, my dear." Lucy instructed, "You can remove your chemise under the covers where you will be warm." Hermione obeyed. Pulling the bedding up to her chin, she wiggled free of her garment

under the covers. Rigid, she watched Lucy as she moved about the room, but the

older woman kept her back to the bed. "I will go let Delvin know you are ready."

Waiting under the covers, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and fisted her hands on the bedding to keep it around her shoulders and hide her nakedness. She tensed when the door opened, then relaxed a bit when Lucy entered alone. "The men will be here soon, my dear. I insisted that only Father Thomas, Lord

Gerald, and Lord Wyham accompany Delvin, I did not want any of those drunken louts downstairs to intrude on your wedding night." "Lady Lucy, you have been very kind to me. Thank you."

"You are my daughter now, my dear. I hope you will be happy here at Ishton." The door opened and Delvin stepped into the room, followed by the other men. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut when Delvin started to untie the blue wool robe he wore. A wave of air chilled her as he lifted the bedding, and she felt the mattress dip when he slid under the covers beside her. She held her body stiff and motionless, not wanting to touch any part of his n***d body, and listened as the priest said a prayer to bless their marriage bed and their union. The slight sprinkling of the holy water he splattered on her face was a gentle balm.

Hermione opened her eyes when the priest finished speaking and watched as the men filed out of the chamber.

Lucy went around the chamber, extinguishing all but one of the lit candles in the room. Pausing at the door, she smiled at them. "Good night, my dears." The door

closed behind her.

"Milord, I must castle and kill you."

speak with you," Hermione said. "My father intends to invade your

"What?" Coming up on his elbow, Ishton loomed over her, his black eyebrows drawn tightly together. In the shadowy darkness she could not clearly see his face

only his brilliant blue eyes that pierced thorough her. "How do you know this?"

"I overheard my father making plans with my brother. Gerald and his men are to kill your guards and open the postern gate so my father's troops can enter the castle. My father plans to m******e you as well as your entire garrison."

"Why should I believe a word you say? This could be a trick to lure me and my men outside the castle walls and into an ambush." Desperation filled her. He had to listen to her and act on her warning. He was her only chance to save herself.

Hermione took a long, slow breath. "You do not have to go outside the castle walls to defeat my father. If you leave the castle to attack him, that will make you the aggressor rather than him. The king will blame you for breaking the peace. But if you let Gerald open the gate and let Morety's men enter the castle, you can easily surround them and capture them inside the castle walls."

"Why are you warning me? It could lead to your father and brother's deaths." "I have no love for my father, nor he for me. He plans to slay me and accuse you of the murder as justification for his attack. He plans to force Lady Lucy to wed him, legitimizing his holding of Ishton."

"Why do you hate your father so much?" ""Twas he who cut my face."

H elena's quiet words reverberated through the still chamber. Delvin stared at his wife's face. Her left cheek had been slashed deeply from the outside edge of her eye down to her jaw. The scar had not healed well and was red and puckered. Smaller scars radiated out from the larger wound. The pain she had suffered staggered him. How could any man do this to his own flesh-and-blood? He pulled the covers from her shoulders but felt her resistance as she tried to keep

them in place. Delvin stared at Hermione until she lowered her eyes and released her grip.

Removing the bedding, he unveiled her n***d body.

Pity filled him at the sight of her painfully thin frame. The contours of her ribs were plainly visible through her ivory, almost translucent, skin. He did not allow his gaze to linger on her perfectly shaped breasts but continued his examination of the rest of her body. Numerous scars that appeared to have been caused by the lash of a whip marred the skin of her thighs and lower legs. As gently as he could, he rolled her limp. unresisting body over to lay her on her stomach. Pushing her long, soft hair out of the way, he continued his examination. Her back, buttocks, and legs were covered in welts. Scars new and old crisscrossed her pale skin. The pain she had endured overwhelmed him.