"What do you know of weapons?" Lucy, always a pragmatist, interjected with a chuckle. "Gwen, what do we know of weapons?"
Gwen bristled slightly at Lucy's skepticism, her desire to prove herself simmering beneath the surface. "I may not be a master swordsman," she replied evenly, "but I know talent when I see it."
And she knew about swords. They were a form of protection. A companion to defence. A carrier of safety.
With a sword in hand, she could protect and defend herself. And if need be, she could cause harm to all who frightened her, chasing them afar off and seeing that herself a secret her family was never again brought to humiliation. With a sword, and the knowledge of usage, she could protect herself, and her family, Gwen thought
Lucy almost tripped, but caught herself in time. "What about the Duke?" She asked, stealing a sly glance at Beth who was trailing behind them, deep in thoughts. Whatever her reason for asking such a question was thwarted. Beth was greatly caught up in her thoughts that she was so far removed from where they stood.
"He is a great swordsman too." was all Gwen gave. The Duke was a great fighter, but like the Prince, he had also hesitated and had eventually thrown the match. He had not seemed interested in the tournament anyways. When Lucy tried to counter, Gwen stopped her with a hand to her lips. They were in the castle and one must do well to be wise with words so as not to unknowingly offend. The King, the Prince, and the Duke of Carlisle were statuses above them, they would not be defended against if words of offence were uttered, and eventually heard.
The castle corridors were bright and beautiful and the shadows cast by the lights caused shadows to form on the walls. They took a turn of the corner and their forth and back conversation was interrupted when they came upon a dreaded presence. Gwen gasped, partly from shock and partly from apprehension. Without delay, the presence caused a wave of humiliation to sweep through her, coursing from her head to her feet. She suddenly felt weak.
Lord Cossington stopped before them.
Beth rushed forward and pushed Gwen back, attempting to shield her, but it was useless. For years, she had told her family whilst lying to herself that she was better, that the memories of their shared and melancholic past was far behind, but who was the fool? All it took to plummet her back and send the horrible past flooding in was the misfortune of standing in his presence. The past, wicked as it was, still held power over her.
"Lord Cossington." Beth greeted.
"Lady Fitzgerald, and the lady that was once promised to me." Against themselves, the ladies bowed. Gwen's heartbeat rose. Fear began to take the place of the initial shock. She rasped. "When I saw someone having a semblance to you, I got suspicious. I never thought it would really be you."
Behind Beth, Gwen cowered and she hated herself for it. Lord Cossington still held power over her, power to shame and ridicule, power to belittle.
Lost in her dread, Gwen heard him call out. "Lady Fitzgerald, how wonderful to see you after all these years." He bowed, surely he was mocking her.
Beth pushed her farther behind. "Lord Cossington, I didn't know you were at the Castle." She exhaled. "You must forgive me for I have not a single willingness to stand and continue this conversation thus." Turning to them, she spoke firmly to Lucy. "Take Gwen from here. Now!"
There was no hesitation. Lucy roughly grabbed Gwen's arm and pulled her away.
Like a lamb being led by its shepherd, Gwen hurried after her cousin even though she was not sure where they were headed. It was far from Lord Cossington and that was sufficient. Overwhelmed by her emotions, she grappled with her thoughts, nearly blinded by shame, only Lucy's hold on her kept her sane enough.
"Lady Gwen!" Lord Cossington suddenly called. Her name on his lips repulsed her but somehow she found herself turning to answer him. "It was a pleasure. We should converse soon."
Gwen could hear herself breathing. It was shaky and unsure and told of her instability. No! She didn't want to converse with him. She wanted no relation whatsoever with him. Lucy pulled at her arm again and she responded by letting her cousin lead her.
They made it to their assigned chambers just in time before she lost her last hold on dignity. In the safety of their chambers, Gwen ran off to the bed, seeking solace in the embrace of it as she fought with the haunting grip Lord Cossington still had over her. Pulling on the bed covers, she buried her head completely, trying to hide from the shame and Lord Cossington's voice.
Lord Cossington!
Geoffrey!
Her former betrothed!
What power did he still have over her? What accursed connection was there still between them? Why couldn't she break free? Why was she still held by him? She hated him, she hated herself for the power she gave him. Against the clean, fine sheets, Gwen cried, refusing Lucy's words of comfort.
His hold over her was a torment and even if she had tried to release herself, it had been futile. She had deceived herself long enough that she was free of him, but seeing him had caused a great deal of emotional tumult to stir up within her. They left her introspective and vulnerable. They made her a fool.
For years, she had diligently evaded his presence in social gatherings, on the streets, and at every function. Perhaps it was because deep down, she harboured the unsettling realization that her inner strength didn't quite match the facade she projected. And she had been right, because despite the passage of time and the distance between them, nothing seemed to alleviate the tension. Merely a few fleeting moments in his company were enough to evoke a sense of embarrassment within her.
Her silly memory brought forth the thoughts she once had of being his wife, obedient and good, carefully managing his home. His voice had stirred in her the notion of loss. A lost love that never existed, at least not in manifestation.
Lucy sat at the foot of the bed, tapping lightly on her exposed feet as if telling her she wasn't alone. It was of no use. Gwen felt lonely. She felt alone.
Minutes later, Beth returned, coming to hold her in her embrace, and bringing a most unwanted news - an invitation had been extended to them to join the King and his Lords for dinner.
Gwen's inner turmoil increased with the revelation and another layer of complexity was added to her already turbulent emotions. She would have to see Lord Cossington again, in close proximity. How had a simple invitation to the castle brought about so many unforeseen and unwanted events?
She hated the castle!
***
"Carlisle, what is this altercation I hear between you and the Lord of Sorway?"
Alexander met Carlisle by the doors to the dining hall. He stepped in, marching regally to his seat at the head of the table. Rather than sit, he went around to stand behind it, leaning to rest on the backrest. He had taken a proper wash and changed his clothes, trading his match outfit for a robe befitting his status. The purple robe he had on screamed his wealth and its colour told immediately of his exalted position. He was king and would always remind people.
Carlisle followed after him. He had seen himself to a bath and other clothes as well. "I see Edmund has fulfilled his servant's duties and had come running to you."
Alexander smirked, cupping his chin in his hand. "How else has he remained by my side all these years?" His manservant was slow in conversations but quick to bring him the latest news. There were days the news he brought were unworthy of attention, but some other day, they called his attention. Today, it summoned fun.
He had only stepped out of the bath when news of a confrontation between Carlisle and Cossington had been brought. He had assumed the bone of contention was the marriage of Carlisle and Lady Cossington, but interestingly, Lady Fitzgerald had been present, so he had paid rapt attention to the report. He was famished but such news commanded his interest.