Eastern Wing (Warwick Royal Palace), 07:40 a.m.
It was cold, the current began to pass stronger and stronger through the opened window. Juniper slowly opened his blue eyes. He was completely sweating, his blond curls were running wet on his forehead and the tears had slowly dried on the young man's pale cheeks. He couldn't move, he was trying to force his thoughts, make his body move. It wasn't easy, but when he finally did it, he noticed that his movements were much slower than his normal's.
His head was spinning, incredibly. Not that it was apparently rare on his frail body, but it was a different kind of pain, it was like this time he didn't remember anything that had happened earlier that day. He remembered being forced into the infirmary by the guards, he remembered a man, his face, he couldn't remember it completely. He remembered talking about his past, being forcibly tied to a chair with black leather straps and remembering the doctor pounding those long, dry leaves in the mortar. Immediately after those thoughts his head started to hurt really bad.
The young baron immediately understood that if he wanted to end all that pain he would have to expel what he had ingested, and the fastest and most painless way to do this was to vomit. Juniper grabbed the chamber pot placed under his bed, bent over it, and dug two of his fingers into his throat. It didn't take long before the young man started vomiting inside the pot. All that came out were bits of carefully chopped dry green leaf accompanied by bloodstains that in vomiting had leaked from his mouth.
The acidity in his stomach began to rise up his throat, but strangely he felt much better as his head had partially stopped hurting. Juniper immediately threw himself back onto the bed, placing one of his cheeks on the soft pillow and turning his gaze towards the door. He didn't seem to understand how he could be so foolish in continuing to love a person who treated him in such a brutal way.
He trusted her, he loved her almost like a sister, but how could have she done something so abrupt and violent to him? Isabelle had noticed how in recent days he and Henry had become close and had begun to doubt the loyalty of the young baron. The princess had accused him of not being properly "psychologically healthy" and for this she had prescribed a daily session with the court doctor, until the young baron had his head in "peace".
Juniper knew some things and was sure of it, and among these things was the fact that despite being seventeen, he himself was very intelligent and despite having passed through many traumas his mental health had always been excellent, except for temporary panic attacks that had sometimes struck him.
The doctor gave him those leaves, made him swallow them forcefully and those, in addition to having a moist and completely inedible taste, made the young man's head spin. It gave him a sense of nausea and violence that he was not used to having in his normal life. It was talked about this "healing" but hallucinogenic substance, pulled out of those leaves, its name was cocaine, but Juniper doubted, or even better, loved to believe that his cousin was not so scared that she could prescribe a daily dose to him.
No, it could not be, also because such a long-term prescription would have made him completely lose his mind and would have made him "brain-sick" to the point of death. The young baron began to cry bitter tears, he had ended up in a very complicated situation, from which he was almost sure he could not get out alive. But he did not like to cheat, he had made a pact with Prince Henry. They would have prevent Britain from starting a war against France and Juniper would have done everything possible at least as long as he was alive. The young man felt tired of everything.
After throwing up and crying and being partially drugged by a questionable doctor, his psychic well-being had definitely dropped. He needed a few hours of rest and was grateful that in all that confusion his cousin had given him a few hours to be on his own and not have to be forced to join the hunt. He closed his eyes just for a few minutes before he was awakened again by the loud noise his bedroom door made slamming against the wall. Juniper opened his eyes suddenly, even if he was tired he had to be on the alert in every way, because he would never have been warned of when the danger was there.
But instead of the alleged danger he only found two guards in sight of him. Juniper snapped into his sitting position and pushed back a few steps over the soft surface of the bed. A sense of fear began to assail him, that they had come again to take him and bring him to the doctor. He did not want to go back there in any way, even though he knew it would be up to him again, it was a matter of days.
-My lord- one of the two guards at the edge of the door nodded -we are here to inform you that the Duchess Abigail Dallas, from Northern Ireland, your betrothed, has just arrived ... -. Juniper's heart stopped instantly. It must have been a joke or some other symbol that clearly demonstrated his young cousin's sadism.
He had never been warned of the arrival of his betrothed, if Henry had not mentioned it, he would never have known that there had been a betrothed for him. How could he present himself decently now: he was tired, he was sweaty, he could never even make a good impression on her. Anyway he felt he had to meet her, because he had never been very polite in tradition to make some guest wait. Juniper took the opportunity to grab his white wig and lay it on his blonde curls before leaving the room to meet the young Duchess.
His clothes were in every way of excellent workmanship and apart from the light sweat they weren't dirty, and Juniper could count himself lucky for that. He had been advised that their meeting would take place inside the castle room dedicated to guests and he honestly did not know what to expect or who to expect.
And it was just when he found himself in front of the gigantic door of precious wood that all these ideas and worries began to hammer in his mind. He wondered why it was not his cousin who gave the duchess an official greeting as was customary to do by tradition. On the other hand, he knew very well how it felt to come to an unknown place for the first time, he knew how bad it was to be left alone and since he knew what that feeling led to, he didn't want anyone else to experience it. He heard a sweet sound, a sweet playing of the piano. He opened the door, and along with it he was also able to open his heart for the first and real time.
Sitting at the black leather bench next to the majestic piano was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He saw how the young woman's fingers moved gracefully on the keys, her delicate profile, her fiery red hair descending to her lap, the precious forest green dress wearing, the beautiful ribbon with which her magnificent hair were composedly tied in a braid.
The notes, which were played by the girl's graceful fingers, came out of the instrument were simply so harmonic, worthy of a real professional musician. The young baron of the North, in his childhood had been instructed to play the piano, and was able to practice quite well, but at that moment he felt completely incapable compared to the young duchess's skill.
The door closed gently behind them as the guards left the room and everything immediately returned to normal. The slamming of the door made the young woman startled slightly and, hearing the noise, she turned, almost instinctively towards the door.
The gazes of the two met.
She smiled friendly.
The reddish cheeks of the young woman were heavily covered with dark freckles, which together with her very long bright red hair gave the duchess a more rebellious look. Her eyes were large and of a green tending to emerald, but it wasn't a dull green, it was green like the leaves of trees or like the green grass of a lawn. The young duchess rose to her feet and quickly shook her dress to put everything back in line.
-Good morning- she greeted taking her delicate little hands together -It is a pleasure to meet you, my lord, Juniper Whiteblossom- the young woman took two pieces of her long and elegant dress and pushed them at the ends to bow, as a sign of greeting. Juniper did not know how to behave in such a situation, he had been taught since his childhood to interact with people of all high social rank, but in that situation he did not know what to answer or even what to say.
-My name is Abigail Dallas, duchess of Belfast and all the territories of northern Ireland, it is a real pleasure to meet you ... -the young woman nodded, continuing to smile. Juniper did not know if she expected an answer or not, also because he did not really know how to behave or respond.
-It is a pleasure for me, that you have come here, my lady- Juniper replied, lowering his head and bowing in turn -it is a pity that the princess herself could not come to greet you, but I suppose she will re-enter the walls of the castle by the end of the day-. Juniper was able to compose these words and say them in such a natural way, as to make the young woman believe he felt completely at ease.
-I will wait to get to know your cousin with a lot of patience, but meanwhile, Juniper, why don't you tell me something about you?- Abigail proposed, taking a seat on a beautiful and very refined purple red felt armchair. The baron was completely lost in his mind and in his thoughts, he did not know how to act or even less how to behave, also because, as said, the one who took care to give the first greeting to the guests had always been Isabelle. On the other hand, he believed it was very rude to make a girl wait and so he joined her, taking his place on the sofa in front of her.
For a few minutes a strange silence immersed the room, which was soon interrupted by Juniper's words.
-I heard you come from Ireland right? I have never really been there, but I guess it is a wonderful place- he admitted. Abigail smiled and blushed, and then ended up looking away from the young baron. -That is true, my lord, northern Ireland is full of greenery and nature, an ideal place for horseback riding- the young woman stopped her talking for a few minutes but then resumed -you come from the North, from Scotland, I imagine that that is also a nice place...-.
Juniper smiled, he was happy, he thought back to his home, to the North, of the smell of the forests, of the cold of snow to the common smell of meat cooked on the fire. He remembered his fortress, he remembered when he was a child and it was his custom to do long walks inside the gigantic snowy forests that the North offered. Most of all he remembered that time, on his ninth birthday, when, disobeying his father, he slipped into the forest. His father was a stern old man, or so he was as Juniper remembered him, he had died at the age of seventy and Juniper was then only ten.
Throughout his life, he remembered his father having always been very hard on him in every way and somehow overprotective of his only son, his only heir. He had been told stories, which he could not good remember, stories of when he was just a few months old. His father was so worried about the life of his only son that he had his room cleaned by the attendants three times a day, even refusing a nanny for the growth of the child, fearing that bad quality milk could damage his health.
Juniper had always been raised by his mother, who was only fifteen at his birth, his young mother had spent her teenage, her best years, taking care of her son and in a way it seemed to him that that it was a task that her mother loved doing anyway. His father was not a good father, many times he was attached to wine and after the birth of Juniper he no longer wanted his young beautiful wife and surrounded himself with many other women.
-I love my country, I love it with all my heart- the young baron replied smiling -and one day I will have it back ... -. Abigail seemed struck by that statement in all this, not that she did not expect such a reaction, but in her life she was not so used to meeting people with such a love for their homeland and a desire to belong, everything just seemed new to her.