Royal Feud

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Whenever she prayed privately within these walls, she could feel strength and power flow into her.

She did not want to leave this sanctuary. As soon as she stepped out of its doors, the same old fears and anxieties overtook her, and she ended up either reacting out of fear and anger or withdrawing. How could she take this serenity with her? How could she experience this strength and power throughout her day?

Standing before the fireplace, Delvin took a long drink of the wine in his cup as he watched Hermione sing a popular chanson de geste. She had been especially skittish around him all day. Several times he had caught her eyes on him, only to have her look away or bend her head in avoidance, her face flaming. He had thought they were making progress and that she was learning to tolerate, if not enjoy, his touch. He must have gone too far this morning, giving her a blatantly s****l kiss. Now he would have to retreat to safer territory and try to ease more slowly into greater intimacy. He tightened his fist around the wine goblet before putting it to his mouth and draining it. When Hermione finished the song, he handed his empry cup to a nearby page before striding toward her. She glanced up as he approached but quickly ducked her head.

"Aye, milord."

"Milady, we need to make an early start tomorrow so we should retire now." Delvin took the lute from her and extended his hand to assist her. He followed

Hermione into their chamber and lit a few more candles. Should he try kissing her again?

Should he just touch her face? He unlaced the ties holding his tunic together as he considered his options.

"Delvin, could we talk for a few minutes?"

"Aye."

He drew the tunic over his head, hung it on a peg, then turned to observe her. She stood in the middle of the room, twisting her hands together in front of her waist. The

look she gave him was hesitant and timid. "Sit down, Hermione." He gestured to the chair closest to her.

After drawing a chair close to hers, he sat down. He watched as she bit her lip,

glanced up at him briefly, then bent her head again. "I have been thinking about my problem."

When she did not say anything more, he broke the awkward silence. "I am sorry I went too far, too fast, this morning. I know I frightened you with my kiss. You do not

have to worry, Hermione. I will not kiss you again like that until you are ready." "Nay, 'tis not that." Hermione looked at him. "I mean, it is, but it is not the real

problem." He gave her a slight smile. "I am afraid I do not understand. What is the real

problem?"

"Oh, I am not making any sense, am I?" He shook his head and watched her intently, willing her to speak.

"I have been thinking a lot lately about why I am so afraid of the marriage bed. "Tis

not really you I am afraid of." She glanced up at him.

He held himself still and quiet, as he would when coaxing a wild bird to come near him. Smiling at her in what he hoped was encouragement, he silently urged her to continue.

"I trust you. I know that you will not hurt me." She bit her lip again and looked

down at her hands. "Hermione, thank you for your trust. It means a lot to me."

"What I fear," she whispered, "is the lack of control over my own body." "Does your fear stem from your father's treatment of you?"

She nodded but did not look at him. "Perhaps it would help if you talked about what your father did to you."

"I do not know if I can." Her voice was hesitant and tearful. "Hermione, please talk to me."

If she could lance the boil that was her memory of her father's a***e and let the putrid mass drain out of her soul, maybe she would finally able to heal.

"Tell me how he gave you the cuts on your cheek."

She took such a deep, shuddering breath that he almost felt it as well. "He sent for me when I was fourteen. I had not seen him the entire time I was fostered with Lady Dorothea. When I arrived home, he was out hunting, so I did not see him until just before supper that evening. When I came into the hall, 'twas clear he had been drinking very heavily. I came up to him and curtsied before him, as Lady Dorothea had instructed me. He grabbed my chin and held my face up to look at me. I could see the disgust and revulsion in his eyes." She squeezed her eyes shut as tears streamed down her face. "He shoved my face away and shouted at me to get away from him."

"What happened then?" Delvin tried to keep his voice soft and encouraging.

"He drank very heavily over supper. I was hurt when my father rejected me, and my brothers ignored me. I had expected a pleasant homecoming. I went to bed early. My father jerked me awake in the middle of the night. His face...his face was contorted by rage. He dragged me from the bed and hit me. He threw me on the floor and kicked me. As I lay helpless on the floor, he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He sliced my cheek with his knife."

Delvin slipped onto his knees before her chair, his hands covering hers as they lay in

her lap.

"I must have lost consciousness. I do not remember the other cuts he made on my cheek." Hermione was sobbing now. Delvin carefully ran his hands up her arms, touching her

as gingerly as he would a wounded falcon. When she did not resist, he drew her into his

arms as he stood and pressed her ruined cheek to his shoulder. Sobbing, she clutched

him. He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her as the violent sobs raked her slight

frame. Her torment was unbearable.

He gathered her up in his arms and sat on the chair, cradling her limp body against him as she cried. Laying his face against her head, he rubbed his cheek against the soft, silky strands of her hair. Tenderness for her engulfed his heart. Later he would plan how to avenge her, but for now he had to focus his efforts on helping her.

A long time later, her tears gradually slowed and she quieted in his arms. He knew

he had to get all the poison out of her soul, if she were to heal properly and completely. "What happened after that night?"

"I kept the door to my chamber barred at night." Her voice was expressionless as if she were numb and lifeless. "I learned to stay out of his way as much as possible. When I was not successful, he beat me. Usually with his fists. Sometimes with a whip. I became like a rat. I hid in the dark corners of the donjon. I spied on him so I could know about his plans and his movements. I lived in constant fear that he would catch me at any time. I was no match for his brute strength or his cruelty. I was completely helpless and at his mercy." Tis a wonder you did not go mad."

She had to have incredible strength and depth of character to have survived the horror she had endured. Delvin felt his admiration and appreciation for her increase. Twas only my music that kept me sane. I spent all my time playing and singing. Imagining a better, more beautiful world." She fell silent.

Then Delvin knew he no longer needed to prod her to recall the ugly, evil things her father had done to her. The poison had been purged from her; now she could heal. He held her securely in his arms as she gradually relaxed. When her breathing slowed and became even, he knew she slept. He carried her to the bed and removed her shoes and hose. She slept as one dead. No, she slept with the complete and all-absorbing slumber of a child. She did not rouse when he removed her kirtle or when he took her into his arms.

Warmth seeped into Hermione's entire body as she snuggled her head into the hardness under her cheek. A tickling sensation against her nose awakened her from the remnants of her sleep, and she opened her eyes. Realizing she was lying against Delvin's bare chest, she gasped and reared back, bracing her hand against his waist.

"Ssshhh. Just lie back down and relax. We do not have to get up yet." He gently but firmly pressed his hand on the back of her head, urging her head back to his chest, then rightened his arms around her. She became fully conscious of how closely she lay against his side, with her leg thrown over his n***d thigh and her hand resting on his bare torso. She remembered falling asleep in his arms fully clothed while he held her on the chair, and now she was in bed with him, her nakedness covered only by her chemise.

"How do you feel?" "I...I am not sure."