Royal Feud

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

That night, as soon as she had finished playing her lute, Hermione left the hall and went upstairs to her chamber. She hastily disrobed and brushed her hair before getting into bed where she curled into a ball, with her back to the door. She willed herself to go to sleep but had not managed to do so when Delvin entered the room a little while later When he slid into bed beside her, Hermione remained immobile.

"Hermione, I know you are not sleeping. Did you think to avoid me tonight?" Silence stretched painfully between them. Hermione did not move a muscle. The anger and resentment she felt at his arrogance in forbidding her to see Damien seethed within her.

"You need to become accustomed to my touch so you will not fear it." She offered no resistance as Delvin put his hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her over to lie on her back. He stroked her hair back from her forehead, shifting his fingers through the strands.

"You have such beautiful hair, Hermione. Tis softer than sable fur." He continued to stroke her hair, not touching any other part of her, either with his hand or his own body.. last she relaxed under his rhythmic movements, and her eyes gradually fluttered closed. After an instant, she jerked her eyes open, staring up at him

in the darkness. "All is well, Hermione," he murmured. "Go to sleep." His touch soothed her, banishing her tension. Her burning eyes drifted closed. Languor seeped into her, and she gave herself up to slumber.

Hermione came awake gradually, aware of Delvin's presence. She turned onto her back to find him propped up on his elbow beside her.

"Good morrow, Hermione."

"Good morrow, Delvin."

He reached out to stroke the hair at her temple, gently brushing it back from her face, quietly humming a tune as he caressed her. At first her addled brain could not place the melody, but then she recognized his song as "Chanson du chevalier honorable," which she had composed about him shortly after coming to Ishton.

Delvin stroked her hair for several minutes, then put his hand lightly on her shoulder. She tensed, holding her body rigid. He lightly rubbed her arm, running his hand from her shoulder to her fingers and back again, all the while maintaining eye contact with her and humming. After a while she accepted his touch and relaxed.

He caressed her arm for a few more minutes, then rolled over and left their bed. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds he made as he washed and dressed. When he was finished, he stopped next to the bed.

"I will see you at mass, Hermione."

"Aye."

Late in the morning, Hermione walked around the allure. Pausing on the north side of the crenellations, she located Damien as he trained in the lists. She watched him deftly parry his opponent's blow and then sally, driving the other man back. She sighed, wishing she were able to take up a sword and cut and s***h her foes as he was doing. But her opponents were only her own jumbled emotions. They could not be banished by a sword.

"Good morrow, milady." "Good morrow."

Hermione nodded to the guard as he passed and resumed her wandering. Why should she be made to feel guilty that she had been observing Damien train? Resentment against Delvin burned brighter within her.

As she walked along the east side she saw Delvin standing outside the mews with a gyrfalcon on his wrist, and she stopped to watch him. His mouth was moving, and he appeared to be singing as he stroked the bird's feathers. She leaned forward over the stone barrier, straining to hear him over the noise of steel and horses and men that pervaded the bailey.

There seemed to be a rush of wind against her ears as she picked out the faint words

he was singing.

"My King and my country I serve gladly,

Protecting the weak, pure justice I seek.

Courage, valor, and truth alone rule me, Loyalty my guide, in honor my pride."

Gasping, she pulled back as she realized he was singing to the bird the same song he had hummed to her this morning. He was touching the bird with the same soft. deliberate strokes he had used on her this morning. She gripped the side of the wall as she stared at her husband.

Delvin carr the gyrfalcon to a perch set up in front of the mews and tied the bird creance to it. He removed the bird's hood, all the while stroking her feathers, the backed away from the gyrfalcon and went to stand about ten feet from the birc Denners came to Delvin and gave something to him before leaving him alone. Alar stood with his right arm extended, and Hermione finally realized he held a live mouse in his bare hand. The gyrfalcon eyed Delvin cautiously, clearly wanting the food he dangled in front of her. She shifted restlessly back and forth on her perch. Delvin merely stood still, singing the chorus over and over again. Finally, the bird flew toward him and snatched the mouse out of his hand. Brought up short by the creance, she was unable to fly away, so returned to her perch where she devoured the mouse.

Delvin walked toward the gyrfalcon, never ceasing to sing the chorus from her song, When the bird had finished eating, Delvin reached out his gloved hand to her and she obediently stepped off her perch and on to his fist. She was rewarded by the strokes of his hand on her feathers. Abruptly, Delvin turned toward the outer curtain, as if suddenly aware of someone watching him. His piercing blue eyes met hers. He inclined his head slightly toward her

in acknowledgment, a welcoming smile spreading across his face. She nodded stiffly to

him and hurried away.

When she reached her bedchamber, she took off her cloak and hung it on a peg near her clothes chest. She sat in a chair and picked up her lute. Unconsciously her fingers started to pick out the melody of "Chanson du chevalier honorable." Emotions tumbled over and over each other in her heart. Finally realizing what she was playing, she abruptly pulled her right hand away from the strings. She would forever now think of the song as "Delvin's Song," rather than by the title she had first given it.

Deliberately, Hermione started to play a popular love song that was one of Damien's favorites. When the last chord faded, she put down the lute. She went next door to Delvin's solar and located a piece of paper and a quill-pen. She thought for a moment, then wrote the note.

Hermione walked into the deserted dairy. The late afternoon sun filled the room with its dying rays but no warmth. Dust motes drifted lazily around in a shaft of light from the high window. She inhaled the smell of the cheese lying in molds on shelves along the sidewall. She turned toward the door as it opened and watch Langston slip inside and stride toward her.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

“Aye, Damien, I am well," she replied, extending her hands toward him.

"I was worried when I read your note. I was afraid something terrible had happened." He gently squeezed her hands before releasing them. "Nay, 'tis nothing like that. I merely wanted to talk with you, as you are my only

friend here."

"Lord Ishton clearly disapproves of our friendship." "Aye. I do not know why he is so opposed to it."

"Are you disobeying his orders, meeting me like this?"

my friend."

"Aye. "Tis a ridiculous order. I am a grown woman. I should be allowed to talk with

"Has Ishton hurt you?"

"Nay." She dropped her eyes from his and turned away, going to sit on one of the stools. Langston pulled a stool next to hers and sat down.

"I do not want to jeopardize your chances with Ishton. I know that your training

for knighthood is very important to you, so we will not be able to meet alone again."

"Aye. I am not worried for myself, but I fear Ishton may try to harm you if he discovers we have met."

"I do not think he will hurt me. He is nothing like my father." "Thank God for that."

"Damien, I want to tell you how much your friendship has meant to me. If not for

you, I truly believe I would be dead now."

Langston reached for her hand. "I am sorry I could not take you away from Morefy nor keep you from being forced to wed Ishton."