The Blackberry Queen

Chapter Four - Lady Brynn Wingfall

Oscar waited nervously in the great hall. The clock, its incessant tick-tock filling the room, showed the hours passing. And the longer the hours passed, the higher his stress rose.

Henry had insisted that he wait in his quarters, comfortably seated, but Oscar had refused. A matter of principle. As if he were there to greet his wife after her long journey—or perhaps because he preferred to establish his territory and claim the hall first.

He brooded, sitting up straight, and froze when he heard the sound of heels approaching.

And suddenly, the door opened.

Oscar held his breath.

Piercing, beautiful eyes, an elegant green dress, long auburn hair, and an enigmatic smile.

Lady Brynn had arrived.

The young woman turned gracefully, seemingly still in conversation with Henry. She eventually swept her gaze across the room, and her smile widened when she spotted Oscar.

“Ah! Lord Rivière, delighted to meet you.”

With a quick step, her dress flowing gracefully, she approached him and extended her hand. Oscar, suddenly frozen, hurried to take it; ready to shake it in his confusion, he instead offered a slight bow and a delicate hand-kiss. She returned his smile.

“Delighted, Your Grace, it’s… a great joy to meet you today.”

He straightened, keeping his hand slightly longer than necessary.

She studied him, her piercing green eyes scanning him through his mental armour; Oscar felt exposed.

“No need for formalities between us, my Lord. I’m truly sorry for my absence yesterday; an important matter held me a few leagues away.”

He nodded, almost understanding.

“I completely understand. After all, managing an entire duchy by yourself, as a woman, is no simple task.”

She squinted slightly but nodded.

“Thank you for your understanding. Now, if you don’t mind, let’s move to the table. It’s always more pleasant to discuss over a good meal.” Saying this, she gestured toward the long dining table.

Again, Oscar nodded. Out of respect, he let her sit first and took the seat opposite, where the place setting was arranged. The table’s length suddenly seemed grotesquely immense. Each servant had to take several steps to travel from one end to the other.

Lady Brynn smiled at a servant and thanked him as he placed the starter. Far from the rumours, she exuded charisma instead. Noticing his gaze, a sly smile appeared on her face.

“Now that we’re seated, Lord Oscar, tell me a little about yourself.”

“About me?” he repeated, snapping out of his thoughts.

“About you, yes. Since we are to marry, it’s only natural to get to know each other better.” She paused. “What made you accept an arranged marriage?”

Fork in hand, Oscar hesitated. He thought of his father and his stern blue gaze.

“Well… uh…” he coughed, “you are an excellent match. An intelligent and financially secure young woman—who wouldn’t dream of that?”

She brought her glass to her lips.

“And how did you know I’m intelligent, Lord Oscar?” she asked, playful in her gaze.

“Well, I…” he searched for words, “a young woman who manages a duchy alone isn’t common. So it’s obvious you are intelligent.”

“I know many dukes who, with or without advisors, are quite incapable,” she countered.

He fell silent, considering the question.

“Do you know why I chose you, Lord Oscar?” Lady Brynn continued, cutting her rare steak. “You seem to be a sharp young man; at least that’s what Mr Brennan told me. So you must have wondered what you bring to the table, Lord Oscar.”

“The duchy of Rivière is an important duchy in the southern regions,” he began.

“It’s no secret that the duchy of Rivière is financially compromised. Many people at court consider your father a fool.”

There was a brief pause. Tense, Oscar set his fork on the edge of his plate. He stared at Lady Brynn.

“In that case, Lady Brynn, what made you consider me for this union?”

“I know you won’t cause trouble, Lord Oscar. If it’s money that attracts you, I can give you plenty; I can offer a certain freedom, an environment – admittedly less lavish than the Eau-Claire palace – but still comfortable. All I ask is that you stay out of my affairs.” With a smile, she finished her glass of wine.

Oscar paused for a moment, then slowly nodded, processing the proposal.

“All you ask is that I leave you alone?”

“Exactly. Of course, your presence will be required at major events where we must appear together for appearances. Apart from these few occasions, you are free.”

Oscar considered this, his heart tight.

“Seems almost too good to be true… What do you gain from it?”

“A husband. Society’s view changes entirely when a woman no longer manages a duchy… alone, as you said it.”

Oscar seemed to ponder her words, his heart tight.

“You hesitate,” she noted.

“Your proposal is intriguing, albeit unusual,” he finally replied.

“It’s not unusual at all,” she said, offering her glass for a refill from a servant. “I told you, I need a husband, and you need a wife.”

“What makes you think I need a wife?”

“You are the heir to a faltering duchy; few see you as an appealing match. With this union, you have the chance to prove them wrong.”

“And how? Even by marrying you, nothing will change.”

She smiled, her gaze firm nonetheless.

“That, no one needs to know. Everything is a matter of appearances, my dear. Besides, I would, as much as possible, financially provide for Rivière.”

Seeing his continued silence, she went on.

“I’m not asking you to decide now. Take the time to explore Mulberry and its surroundings, and enjoy our food and local crafts.”

“And how long will you wait?”

“I will wait as long as necessary, my dear.”

Oscar left the dinner with mixed feelings. Even here, he was only a pawn; part of him wanted to send a letter to his father to say this union wouldn’t work and that he would return. But what response could he expect? That his father would embrace him? His father’s decision was final, whether it pleased him or not.

The young lord sat at the edge of his bed, thoughtful. Tonight, he might have slept beside his future wife, yet in a sense, nothing had changed.

The next day, Oscar had breakfast alone in the Salon of the Dawn. The weather finally seemed fair; he even thought he glimpsed a few rays of sunlight filtering through the trees. Still unsettled by the previous night’s dinner, he planned to distract himself today. After all, apart from each dinner Lady Brynn wished to share with him, he remained the sole master of his schedule, and he intended to spend that time productively.

When a young servant entered the room to clear the breakfast tray, he asked him to fetch Abélie. The girl arrived promptly, lively and cheerful; a stark contrast to the sombre expression she had worn during the journey.

“You asked for me, my Lord?”

“Abélie, pack your things; you’re coming with me to town.”

“To town, sir?” Despite her curiosity, she raised an eyebrow.

“I need my personal majordomo to accompany me wherever I go, don’t I?”

He crossed his arms; she regarded him cautiously.

“Butler?”

Even the young servant seemed perplexed.

“Of course. Since Her Grace has her butler, it’s only natural I have mine. Günther cannot reasonably take on such a domestic role, so it falls to you.” She began to protest, but he stopped her with a wave of his hand.

“Get ready and meet me at the entrance; we leave in ten minutes.”

Faced with his almost authoritative tone, the girl said nothing and hurried to prepare. Oscar, meanwhile, donned his long coat and short sword emblazoned with the Rivières crest.

Abélie, still taken aback, joined him at the Queen’s Gate punctually. He didn’t give her time to ask questions and began walking toward the town, accompanied by one of the Rivière soldiers.

“My Lord, will you explain this sudden promotion?” The girl asked once they were out of sight of the castle.

“Well, we’re staying here; my future wife gives me free rein to do as I please. So I figured I needed a butler.”

“Sir Oscar, you know, usually houses this vast are run by a single majordomo, or chief steward. If I become a majordomo, even without the skills, I might end up clashing with Mr Brennan…” she tried to reason. But Oscar wouldn’t hear of it.

“You’ll just learn on the job. I’m not a demanding master. As for Brennan, Lady Brynn has promised me almost unconditional freedom, so she won’t see an issue with having two majordomos in this castle.”

Abélie regarded him sceptically.

“Are you doing this out of spite? Did Lady Brynn annoy you this much?”

“Of course not; no lady could annoy me,” he replied sarcastically. “Besides, I don’t see what you’re complaining about. You wanted to investigate and poke your nose everywhere—now’s your chance, since you have authority over your peers.”

“Yes, yes… true. But I still don’t know what a majordomo does, my Lord.”

“Just follow my instructions, and maybe learn a trick or two from Brennan; he surely knows some.”

“Well… that sounds like provocation…”

Oscar said nothing, shrugging, a smug grin on his face.

The town of Mulberry lacked the floral charm of Eau-Claire, it was true. The main avenue Oscar and Abélie had crossed to reach the castle reflected the rest of the town: cobbled streets covered in snow and mud, stone houses, solid but dull, and few shops catering mainly to basic needs. There was only a jeweller, in a somewhat rustic and dim shop. Far from luxury, Mulberry exuded frugality.

And yet, Oscar was surprised to receive many courteous greetings as he strolled. The locals, unlike the usual indifference of the South, offered smiles here and there. Some even seemed ready to converse—before reconsidering upon seeing his stern look. Abélie, on the other hand, was delighted.

“It’s not as grim as I thought,” she said, looking around. “People are kind, even if the town has a rough appearance. I also expected it to be much colder.”

“We’re not yet in the depths of winter, if I’m not mistaken; it’ll be two more months before the harshest cold arrives,” Oscar replied, keeping his hands in his pockets.

“Ah… that’s not something I’m happy about.”

Suddenly, Abélie’s stomach growled. Oscar stopped, and she did too.

“Is that your stomach I hear?”

“Well, my Lord… I haven’t had breakfast yet,” she muttered, embarrassed.

He sighed and looked at her with affection.

“Of course you haven’t.”

He then glanced around before pointing to a small shop with a peeling yellow sign.

“Look, that sign looks like a bakery. Maybe we can get something for you to eat.”

“Only for me, Sir Oscar, you truly are generous,” she said dramatically, as she sensed the delicious smells from the shop.

Without acknowledging her theatrical tone, he headed toward the small bakery.