Page 2 of Always
She shook her head, turning her mouth away. “Felicia?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I am here.”
“Take my babes.” Her voice was halting and breathless.
The nursemaids were already in the process of bathing and swaddling the first of the newborns in the nursery next to the queen’s chambers and would soon be doing the same for the second. The wet nurse was ready and waiting. I could do nothing for the princesses, but I couldn’t tell that to the queen, not in her state. The best course was to agree with whatever she asked and pacify her as much as I could. “Where would you like me to take the babes, Your Majesty?”
“Flee from Delsworth,” the queen continued with gasping breaths.
Flee from Delsworth? Was the fighting going so poorly the queen feared defeat?
“My crown.” She glanced sideways at the pedestal table on the opposite side of the bed where the crown sat upon a black velvet cushion. “Take out two rubies, one for each twin.”
I nodded, not sure how I would do so but determined to promise anything to this woman who’d welcomed me so warmly into her home.
“You must find Constance,” she rasped.
The three-year-old crown princess Constance had already been removed from the Delsworth fortress several weeks ago when King Francis ordered the evacuation. That’s when most of the other ladies-in-waiting had left with as many of the castle staff and courtiers who could be spared. The entourage journeyed by barges up the Cress River to another royal dwelling in Everly, one of the Iron Cities. The king had wanted the queen to leave, but she’d already taken to her bed with early labor pains and had been in too much discomfort to travel.
At the time, the relocation had been only a precaution. We’d heard rumors King Ethelwulf of Warwick was on the move, that he’d hired mercenaries from the continent—toughened Dane warriors as well as lethal brown-skinned Saracens. However, we hadn’t expected King Ethelwulf to attack by sea so swiftly and with so much power. Certainly, we’d never believed he could overcome the massive seaport fortress that King Francis and Queen Dierdal had made their primary residence. Built of granite from the Highlands, the outer wall was ten feet thick.
“Please, Felicia,” the queen whispered, her lips thin, her voice barely audible. “I trust you more than any other to see that my daughters are safe.”
Trust me? Why?
At seventeen, I was one of the youngest ladies-in-waiting, and I wasn’t anyone special. In fact, the queen knew I was more of a misfit because I disdained the noble courtship process—the system whereby each family sent one of their daughters to the royal court to be matched with a young man chosen as the heir of his own family.
The process of singling out a son and daughter was fraught with complications that had torn apart many families, including my own, in ways that were irreparable. My brothers had fought bitterly in a rivalry to become the chosen son who would eventually inherit our family’s Avington estate and fortune. Even though Charles had prevailed and gone to court and was now betrothed, my brothers hadn’t reconciled and likely never would. Furthermore, my two older sisters resented me—the chosen daughter.
Now, after almost a year at the palace, I scorned the courtship process even more. I felt like a decorative object on a pedestal under intense scrutiny, with men constantly surveying my waist-length sable curls, every inch of my smooth complexion that Mother had worked so hard to keep unblemished, and my slender body that was honed to perfection.
I might not have been the most beautiful young noblewoman at court, but I’d been groomed for this existence my entire life and should have felt privileged. But my dissatisfaction had only grown. Although I’d tried to keep it from the queen, she’d been too perceptive. She’d coaxed me into explaining my reservations about court life and had listened attentively as she always did.
I hadn’t expected her to rise up and revolutionize a system that most of the aristocracy believed kept our noble lineages strong and flourishing. Nevertheless, I had felt better for sharing honestly with the queen, and I admired her all the more for her willingness to understand my frustration.
Her words had stayed with me. “Ofttimes we cannot change the entire direction of a route already set in motion. But we can do our small part to shift the path one degree at a time.”
“What will your part be, Felicia?” she’d asked.
I hadn’t known how to answer her. I still didn’t. But I had been attempting to discover my purpose ever since.
Even so, I couldn’t imagine why she would trust me with her newborn babes. Not when other, more important, stronger people could surely keep her daughters safer than I could. After all, how would I be able to leave the castle? Not when King Ethelwulf’s mighty army surrounded it. Slipping out of the walled fortress and past the enemy would have been hard enough by myself. But carrying two newborn babes—and royal heirs no less? Impossible. King Ethelwulf’s jealousy, greed, and ruthlessness preceded him. He wouldn’t willingly allow any of the royal family to escape. Besides, if I somehow managed to smuggle the babes away, where would I go? How would I provide for them?
“Felicia,” the queen whispered so faintly I had to bend low. “You can do this. For me. For my daughters. For all of us.”
From the end of the bed, the midwife shouted for more supplies, her voice insistent and panicked. The queen held my gaze, and her eyes cleared of the haze of pain, revealing the strong, intelligent, and kind woman I had come to know. A glimmer in the depths told me she believed in me and thought I was strong and intelligent too.
“I will try to save them, Your Majesty,” I said, but not without trepidation.
“Do you vow it?”
“I do.”
She lifted her hand from the bed. It shook terribly and seemed to cost her the last ounce of remaining energy. I bent and placed three kisses there, as was the custom when making a vow, in turn pledging my allegiance, my loyalty, and my life.
Although I had not expected such a heavy task to befall me, nor to make such a pledge, I pressed a fourth and final kiss against the queen’s hand—the seal of my vow to her, a promise upon a promise, the assurance that her trust in me was well-placed.
She gave a gentle, almost imperceptible squeeze before loosening her grip and dropping her hand. I kept my head bent in servitude, but also because I didn’t want her to see the fear and uncertainty in my eyes when I lifted my countenance.
