“I expected you to do as I wished,” Camden said, continuing. “I expected you to do your duty and stop the threat of war on your people. I expected you to do the right thing, not to…to…endanger Silverhelm based on something you cannot prove!”
“If I had the proof, I’d kill the bastard myself,” Branford said, his voice low and gravelly. “I still await the day he decides to join in a tournament just so I can have the chance to gut that son of a whore.”
“Branford!” Queen Sunniva gasped again. “Do not use such language in my presence!”
“And given that,” Branford continued, his hand resting atop the hilt of his sword, “then surely you cannot expect I would be willing to marry his daughter!”
There was a long pause before the king spoke again.
“You have to make this right, Branford.” Camden’s voice dropped into an eerie calm. “You have to find a way to fix this. They could be preparing for war right now.”
“There is nothing to fix,” Branford stated. “What’s done is done. Alexandra and I are wed. That cannot be changed.”
“Is there proof of your union?” King Camden asked abruptly.
My head swam, and my chest was so tight I found I could no longer draw breath at all. King Camden knew. I didn’t know how he knew, but he did. He knew I was still a virgin. He knew Branford hadn’t taken me. I was sure of it. My head began to pound, and my stomach felt like it had dropped to my feet. A moment later, everything went dark.
The next thing I knew, I was staring at the high ceiling, my head in Branford’s lap.
“Alexandra, can you hear me? Are you ill?”
“Yes, my…Branford…” My vision was blurred, and I couldn’t figure out exactly where I was for a moment. “I mean…no, I’m fine.”
“Fine!” he repeated, exasperated. He leaned over me, running his hand over my cheek. “Take a deep breath, my wife. Can you stand?”
“Branford, dear.” Queen Sunniva’s voice echoed through my pounding head. “She’s only fainted.”
Fainted?
Could I possibly do anything to make their first impression of me any worse?
Branford helped me to my feet and fussed over me for a moment until he was satisfied I was not going to drop to the ground yet again. I offered my apologies, and he told me to hush. I was fairly certain this was also a topic we would broach later, as he had indicated outside after the incident with the carriage driver.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Camden said quietly. Branford snapped his head to one side to look at his uncle.
“There is proof back in my bed at Sterling Castle if you feel you really must inquire,” Branford murmured under his breath. I saw him clench his left hand into a fist but only for a moment. He did not look in my direction.
“What are you trying to do to me, son?” The King of Silverhelm took in a long, deep breath and then exhaled through his nose. He placed his hand over his eyes, rubbing at the corners with his thumb and fingers. Branford released my arm and took a step toward his uncle.
“Father,” Branford said, his tone finally regaining some composure, “I have wed Alexandra. I do not wish to change that. If you…if you feel I must, I will abide, but I will not marry the Princess Whitney.”
For a moment I thought I might fall
again. He was going to give me up. King Camden obviously did not want me here, and Branford was going to cast me out at the word of his king. My chest tightened again, breath left me, and I felt as though my heart had completely stopped beating in my breast. Where would I go? Would they deliver me back to Hadebrand? What would the princess and King Edgar say if I were to be returned to them? Would I even be allowed back in the castle? I remembered Branford’s words in the carriage—I could be considered an enemy of Hadebrand. My hands began to shake again, and my head buzzed with all the possibilities. In my anxious state, I almost didn’t hear King Camden’s reply.
“So be it, Branford,” King Camden said with a sigh. “If you have already claimed her, I can hardly send her back to Hadebrand now. She’d be an outcast begging in the streets within a day, and I’ll not have that on my conscience.”
My heart began to beat again.
“Thank you, Sire,” Branford said softly. King Camden dropped back down onto his throne and shook his head slowly. Branford reached out to me and pulled me close to him. He held my arms to steady me for a moment before releasing his hold on me and turning back to the king. “Forgive me for going against your wishes. I just…couldn’t.”
“I understand,” Queen Sunniva said. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her back in a long braid as she stood slowly and glided gracefully down the small set of stairs until she stood right in front of me. She also wore an understated golden crown, just a fraction smaller than the king’s.
“She’s simply lovely, Branford,” she said. Her voice was soft and kind, and when she looked me up and down, there was no disdain in her expression. “Though it appears she has had a mishap.”
“The bloody carriage driver.” Branford’s voice was nearly a snarl. “He couldn’t control his horses when she was leaving the carriage. The mud outside—”
“I thought as much,” Sunniva said, interrupting. “And stop cursing. I won’t warn you again.”