Don't Forget to Dream (44 page)

Lady Emelia turned slightly in her chair to look back to her son-in-law.
“
You don
’
t have to worry about Rhyla
,
Liam. She is in my care and from what I have
heard
Callum saved her virtue by bringing her to me. No, our problem is not in Callum mistreating her.
”

“
Then what on earth is she so upset about?
”
the king demanded clearly impatient.

“
Oh Liam,
”
his wife said turning to him with a soft smile and a wondering look,
“
isn
’
t it obvious.
”

“
Not in the slightest.
”

“
They are in love.
”

“
In love!
”
King Liam muttered
,
confused. He slowly scrubbed his hand through his hair as he finally understood.
“
I see. That is a problem,
”
he said thoughtfully to his wife before suddenly rounding on his youngest son once again.
“
I hope you haven
’
t been encouraging her with misguided promises.
”

“
No I assure you. We have been fighting this. When I first realised I had feelings for her she seemed to be avoiding me. It is a bit complicated but once we both admitted to caring
for each other
we knew there could never be a future and tr
ied to stay apart
. I
never dreamt of falling in love. I
never looked for it. I always knew my marriage would be political. I figured I would learn to love my wife. For the
creator
’
s
sake, haven
’
t I been out of the city as much as I could possibly manage. I don
’
t seek her out
but am constantly drawn to her, a
nd still we can
’
t stop our feelings. I just don
’
t know what to do any more.
”
Callum covered his face with
his hands once again, f
ighting back tears, not willing to share his despair any longer.

King Liam walked over to the edge of his bed.
“
Son,
”
he said gently. Callum lowered his hands to meet his father
’
s
surprisingly gentle
eyes.
“
I am not one to discuss matters of the
heart;
I shall leave that to your mother. But I need to be clear on one point. If we formulate this treaty with Gayndar, with your betrothal in the agreement I need to know you will honour it. If you have given your heart elsewhere, which it sounds like you have, and can
’
t marry their Princess, then I need to know now, before this goes further than preliminary enquiries.
”

Callum sat in silence for a few minutes, looking down at his hands, clenching and unclenching
them
slowly.
“
Princess Annabel is still two years or more from being of marriageable age. Perhaps by then I will have forgotten the pain of not being able to marry the one woman I truly love.
”

Knowing there was little else to discuss King Liam and the rest of the family bid him goodbye and left him to the care of Ferran and Master Roburt.

Chapter 16

The following week was a practice of solitude and self exile for Rhyla. She refused to leave her room, claiming her wounds were
too tender or her muscles ached
whenever Elsie or Lady Emelia
alluded
to
her lack of
emergence. She ate in her room and read books Elsie kindly fetched for her. Their conversations were generally
brief;
Rhyla dared not ask what was happening in the rest of the Palace for fear of learning that the gossip in the corridors included her.

A few times every day she would find herself drawn to the window, just to catch a glimpse of normal Palace activities, she would tell herself. The rumble of a wagon or the clatter of hooves as a troop of guardsmen departed or returned from whateve
r task they had been given would be the cause of anxiety to
briefly well up within her chest
. Those sounds caused her head to hurt as her memories of
th
at disastrous day flooded
her thoughts. But no matter how many times she looked out that window, still she insisted on remaining in isolation, fearful of running into Callum or one of his family. Knowing they all had witnessed her
emotional display she knew their secret was now known
–
their secret!  How could
she
ever
face them? Princess Sophia and the Que
en did not visit her again. Their non appearance to her room twisted Rhyla
’
s thoughts. It beca
me yet another reminder as she battled to put
painful drama
behind her. She must escape as this was her only solution
to suppress
ing this ache in her heart and in
her life.

What was everyone else in the Palace thinking?
How much did people know and how far had the gossip exaggerated it into a sordid affair? Did they think
she was attempting to trap him and
become his
mistress or was it worse than
that?
The long hours alone in her room were not producing constructive or helpful lines of thought.

Seeing her state of mind stagnating and her anxiety growing daily Lady Emelia stepped in with her usual gentle but firm style. It was a beautiful warm late summer
’
s day and Rhyla was sitting by the window attempting to read but
looking out at the passing activities, not really focusing on anything but her jumbled conflicting thoughts. She was only dressed in her shift when Lady Emelia
arrived;
entering the room with only the briefest pause after knocking.

“
Ah Rhyla, you are up. That is good to see, but still in your shift at this time of day,
”
Lady Emelia said chidingly.

“
It was so warm and I wasn
’
t expecting company,
”
Rhyla muttered defensively.

Stepping further into the room the Lady cleared the way for Mistress O
’
Mara to enter with her basket of salves and dressings.

“
Never mind the
reason;
it will make it faster for me to check your wounds. Now off with that so I can assess you properly,
”
Mistress O
’
Mara said storming into the room and taking charge as usual.

Elsie followed quietly into the room and closed the door before helping Lady Emelia over to sit on the side of her perfectly made bed. In contrast Rhyla
’
s bed was unusually messy.
Her
thoughts paused briefly as she realised she hadn
’
t
bothered to make it in days.
She
didn
’
t have time to ponder her wandering thoughts or debate the necessity of her examination as Mistress O
’
Mara planted herself in front of Rhyla with her hands on her hips, not patiently waiting for her to undress. Rhyla quickly gave in knowing it was futile to argue with the much larger woman, especially in front of her mistress. Biting her tongue and struggling to find her own patience she succumbed to the removal of her dressings and
the
inspection of her various wounds. She was probed and pressed, turned about and thoroughly examined as she was made to walk about the room, flexing and straightening
her arms and touching her toes.
She
felt like a mare at auction. Finally the ordeal was over.

“
You are healing well but you are getting too tight. Now it is time to get you out and about. A little exercise daily and no more hiding in the room,
”
Mistress O
’
Mara declared firmly, but Rhyla didn
’
t miss the brief glance towards Lady Emelia as the head housekeeper made her decision, or she suspected more rightly announced Lady Emelia's decision.

Before Rhyla could debate Lady Emelia interjected,
“
That is wonderful news Mistress O
’
Mara, isn
’
t it Rhyla? It will do you a world of good to get back on your feet after this ordeal. We need to get you busy again. Master Stephen has sent through a long letter
. We can work on that
.
”

“
Yes my lady,
”
Rhyla said feigning interest with a brief smile as she put on a fresh shift and selected a si
mple dark green dress from the
wardrobe.
“
I will be happy to help in any way I can, the estates are so important. They must be getting close to harvest.
”

“
I believe there may be news on Walt and Lan,
”
Lady Emelia added in an attempt to see if Rhyla would become distracted by new, constructive thoughts. It took a moment of contemplation but there was
definitely
a change for the better in Rhyla's expression. The elderly lady smiled to herself, relieved to see the first signs of resilience re-emerge in her young companion.
“
No doubt there shall be much to do. I haven
’
t been able to read it
through;
I need your young eyes for that.
”
She smiled encouragingly as Mistress O
’
Mara fastened the buttons up the back of the dress.
“
Come Elsie, we shall retire to the sunroom. Rhyla, would you be so kind as to stop by Master Smythe
’
s office and fetch some more writing paper and ink, I believe we are running a little short and the extra walk will do you good.
”

“
Yes my lady,
”
was all Rhyla could reply as she waited on the last few buttons to be secured. Elsie assisted their mistress to her feet and escorted her from their room. Mistress O
’
Mara followed surprisingly quickly after gathering her supplies into her basket.

For several minutes Rhyla stood in silence. She could not refuse direct instructions from Lady Emelia but she quaked at the thought of leaving
her room. To have everyone star
ing at h
er, wondering what they thought or what was it
they gossiped
about
behind h
er back. What if she saw Callum, o
r anyone else in his family? Even running into Martin would be awful. Her stomach sickened at the fear and anxiety that churned within her.

Hesitantly she crossed the room, pausing to brush her hair and wipe her face at their small washstand, a brief delaying tactic. Standing behind the clo
sed door she straightened her sk
irts and picked a fleck of lint free. Finally she could find no further reason to delay and placed a hand on the door knob. The soft click as the handle turned sent another wave of tension induced nausea through her. She paused again before opening the door, frantically trying to curb her wild exaggerated imagination. She hadn
’
t done anything wrong, or improper. He was not formally betrothed so they had not morally erred
in sharing a kiss. It was just that it was not proper for a prince to even kiss a servant let alone to fall in love with one.
She
had helped save his life, she reminded herself silently. Taking a deep breath and standing straighter Rhyla pulled open the door. The narrow hallway was
empty;
it only led to servant
’
s
quarters and storage rooms, so was infrequently used during the day.

Gra
sping at the glimmer of courage she took a deep breath and
strode down the corridor to the main hallway and turned towards Master Smythe
’
s offices in the Royal library. Unavoidably the wide hallway was occupied. Near a broad stairway a pair of young noble wom
en stood gossiping and giggling.
They
hadn
’
t glanced in her direction so Rhyla told herself that she would not be the subject of their discussions. 

A long, elegant, finely turned, gold embossed table between her and the next corridor was being polished by a young maid. The lamp stand opposite was being refilled by a y
oung man in Palace livery. These were only staff going about their daily life, doing their jobs, Rhyla convinced herself. As she continued
down the hallway the young maid looked up with a brief smile of recognition before turning back to the task before her. The young man glanced briefly as she passed, his eyes quickly sliding past her to the lass at the table. Quietly Rhyla releas
ed her held breath and walked on
down the hallway, fairly certain the young pair were unlikely to remember she had even walked by. The noble ladies continued their
chatter;
they were discussing new cuts for their latest ball gowns, as Rhyla made her way down the stairs. No doubt they only saw a servant passing by and thought no more o
f it. Servants were not noticed.
They were everywhere but yet,
nowhere.