Saving the Immortal

Chapter Thirty-One: A Conversation With Bess

Bess had become, over the weeks since my arrival, something considerably closer to a friend than a mere attendant, and I found myself, that afternoon, in a mood to speak with her more candidly than propriety generally recommended between a princess and her maid.

"Bess," I said, as she helped arrange my hair before the mirror, "may I ask you something rather personal?"

"Of course, my lady," she said, though a small, curious smile suggested she anticipated something considerably more interesting than the ordinary questions I usually posed her.

"What is marriage truly like," I asked. "The parts no one properly explains to a girl before her wedding day. I have heard so many unkind things whispered about it, and yet—" I hesitated. "You seem to have found some happiness in yours."

Bess laughed softly, setting down her comb.

"My lady, whoever told you unkind things about it clearly never experienced the right sort of husband," she said. "It can be a joy, when the affection is genuine. Considerably more than the maids who whispered such gloomy things ever gave it credit for."

"Truly," I said, my curiosity growing now. "You have found it enjoyable, then. Being close with your husband in such a way."

"Very much so," Bess admitted, a faint blush touching her cheeks despite her evident willingness to discuss it. "It took some adjustment, at first, I will admit. But once the nerves passed, I found it rather wonderful, my lady. I do not understand why so many speak of it only with dread."

I hesitated a moment longer, unsure whether to voice the confession I had been carrying privately for weeks now.

"Bess," I said finally, "I have not yet consummated my own marriage."

Bess's hands stilled entirely.

"You have not—" She turned to look at me properly, her expression caught somewhere between astonishment and genuine concern. "My lady, you have been married for weeks now."

"I know," I said. "Ruselon has been nothing but restraint since our wedding night. He told me plainly he would not press me toward anything I was not prepared for, and I confess, given everything I had heard beforehand, I was rather grateful for his patience."

"But surely," Bess said, "you have come to feel differently by now. Given how close the two of you have grown."

"I have," I admitted. "I find myself thinking of him rather more than propriety would recommend, particularly since his departure to war. But the fear has not entirely left me, Bess. Whatever affection has grown between us."

"My lady," Bess said gently, taking my hand in hers, "you must not let fear rob you of something that could bring you genuine joy. I understand the maids' whispers frightened you terribly before your wedding, but I promise you, when it is with someone who cares for you properly — and I have watched enough of his lordship's behavior toward you to know he cares for you a great deal — it is nothing at all like what those cruel stories suggested."

"But he is so—" I hesitated, feeling my own cheeks warm now. "He is built rather differently than an ordinary man, Bess. Larger, in every sense. I confess that alone has given me some considerable pause."

Bess laughed again, though kindly this time, squeezing my hand.

"My lady, whatever concerns you carry about his stature, I promise you they need not frighten you so completely," she said. "A man who has shown you such patience and restraint is not a man who will rush you toward discomfort. When the moment comes properly, and you feel ready for it, I have every confidence it will turn out considerably better than your fears currently suggest."

"You truly believe that," I said.

"I do," Bess said firmly. "You care for him, my lady, whatever hesitation lingers. I have watched you these past weeks, and I have never once seen you look at any man the way you look at him. When he returns from this war, safely, I hope you will allow yourself the joy that waiting has only delayed rather than prevented."

I considered her words a long moment, the fear I had carried since before my wedding day slowly loosening its grip, if only slightly, beneath the warmth of her assurance.

"Thank you, Bess," I said quietly. "For speaking so plainly with me. I do not know that anyone else in this palace would have offered such honest counsel."

"You are welcome, my lady," she said, returning to arranging my hair once more, though her smile remained. "I only hope you will tell me all about it, once his lordship returns and you finally find the courage."

I laughed despite myself, some of the earlier tension finally easing into something considerably lighter.

"Perhaps I shall," I said. "Though I make no promises regarding the particulars."