King Baudwin of Breoch is a broken man. Crushed in the height of war, crowned in the face of treason and turmoil, he fights to save his kingdom. Hoping to stave off rebellion, he reluctantly agrees to marry the daughter of his main opposition. But t...
His future bride was an enigma. A prickly, foul-tempered enigma. Although, she may not be his future bride if things went her way. If he was absolutely honest, he probably wouldn't be crying himself to sleep if the marriage deal fell through.
They had left the village of Aedon the next morning, riding comfortably in his simple carriage. Baudwin on the perch driving, while Rhiannon had opted to stay inside where she didn't have to speak to him. Several days into their journey, he still had barely spoken to her. Any attempts on his part to start a conversation were quickly shut down, and he'd soon given up.
His mood was perking up as they were crossing the bridge between the Northern and Southern Kingdoms. Touching land on the other side, they were officially home in Breoch. His kingdom. He took a deep breath. It wasn't quite the smell of pine trees he craved as they were still too close to the strait, but it was a lot better than the swamp in which he'd found his fellow traveller.
The wind ruffled his hair, he'd allowed it to grow a little too long lately, and it fell in front of his eyes obstructing his vision. Pushing it back with one hand, he smiled as he looked at the wide, grassy plains in front of him. Further ahead he could see the deep pine woods that his kingdom was known for. Giant trees standing sentinel at the horizon, their shapes outlined in golden light from the sun slowly setting in the west.
He nearly fell off the perch when a loud tapping sound came from inside the carriage. Pulling on the reins, he stopped and jumped down, making sure he landed on his good leg.
"Can I help you, Lady Rhiannon?" he asked as he opened the door to the carriage compartment. It surprised him to find his passenger sitting stiffly in a corner, staring out the window on the other side. She didn't even turn to look at him. It took him another moment to realise that she was breathing heavily. He frowned. Was she frightened?
"Can I..." Her voice trailed off, and he watched her as she squared her shoulders. "Would you mind if I sit with you for a while?"
"By all means." Baudwin stepped aside to let her exit the vehicle, then held his hands out looped together to help her up on the perch in the front. She looked at his hands for a moment before putting one of her leather-clad feet on them and allowed herself to be hoisted up. Climbing up after, Baudwin sat down next to her and picked the reins back up.
They rode in silence, but he did notice that her hands were grasping at the fabric of her skirt, the knuckles white from her tight grip. An enigma, indeed.
"We should reach a village not too long from now," he said when she still hadn't spoken a while later.
"Oh, good." She was staring straight ahead, and he wasn't even sure she knew what she was replying to.
Not one to let an opportunity go to waste, Baudwin took a chance. "How long has it been since you were in Breoch?"
Her knuckles became even whiter, if such a thing was possible, and she continued staring straight ahead. "Ten years."
"That's a long time." Baudwin looked at her face, frowning slightly. Ten years ago she couldn't have been very old. It was before the Dark Disciple had taken the City of Messina. Before the war. So much had changed since then. Where had she been during all those events, if not at home with her family?
"Not long enough," she murmured absently. Then, looking down at her hands, she slowly released the grip on her dress and smoothed the fabric over her knees.
"How old were you when you left?"
"Sixteen." She turned her head to look at him, a line between her dark winged eyebrows. "Are you interrogating me?"
The angry question made Baudwin laugh. "No." He chuckled. "I'm trying to have a conversation. It's something people often do when travelling together. It relieves some of the boredom."
"Well, don't."
He smiled. "Don't what? Relieve the boredom?"
"Don't try to be my friend."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Her scowl deepened, and her moss-green eyes almost seemed to sparkle. "Are you mocking me?"
"I wouldn't dare." By now, he knew he could not keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. It wasn't very nice of him to tease her, but he hoped that it might help her relax. Whatever was haunting her was none of his business, but perhaps he could ease her mood slightly if she was more focused on him than her inner demons.
"Good Sir," she said, her voice cold as ice. "I do not appreciate being made fun of."
"Maybe you need to take yourself a little less seriously?" Baudwin suggested, trying to sound helpful.
"I beg your pardon!" She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "You cannot speak to me like this."
If he'd truly been a simple knight he never would have dared to speak to her in such a way. Being king, however, even if travelling incognito, had its perks.
"At least you are no longer trying to rip your dress apart with your bare hands." He flashed her a smile and was rewarded by a stunned look as she stared at him with wide eyes.
She turned her face away and looked out over the landscape in silence, but this time her hands remained calm in her lap and her shoulders had relaxed.
"I'm sorry." The words were so quiet he only barely heard them. He didn't make her repeat them. Having said them in the first place seemed like a gruelling task for her.
"Look—" Baudwin shrugged. "—I don't know why coming back to Breoch is difficult for you, and I won't pry. But I'm here, and we still have a few more days before we reach your family's home. So if you want to just talk. About anything. It can be the taste of the cheese we're eating. I'm here."
She was looking at him again, and in the waning daylight he was struck by how beautiful she was. When she wasn't angrily lashing out at him, she was quite stunning. The remaining rays from the sun made her golden-red hair look almost glowing as it tumbled down her back to her waist. Her skin was fair despite living in the Southern Kingdoms for however many years.
"Thank you." Her voice was softer than he'd ever heard it. Maybe she didn't entirely hate his guts.
They rode in silence again, but this time it was a companionable one.
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