FOR MANY MONTHS life at the castle fell into the peaceful rhythm of the seasons. Though he was no longer a prisoner there, Boleslav spent most of his time at his own castle. I felt unnerved by the fact that he now had free rein to invent all manner of evil against Václav. Dragomíra, as far as we knew, lived most of the year at her old home in the country north of Bohemia. But in my uncertainty, I often imagined late night sessions between my former mistress, her son, and their conspirators. Whenever I left Praha to accompany Václav on any journey, I found myself spending the entire time listening for sounds of ambush. Concern for my master’s safety dominated all my thoughts. I never forgot what I had heard on that cold Epiphany night.
Almost two years to the day after their wedding, Václav announced at dinner one night that Ana was expecting a child. The new Přemyslid heir would be born sometime in May. Boleslav, the current heir, looked startled. For a moment I saw a flash of his true feelings, but he quickly masked them with a forced smile and stood to make a toast.
“May God grant you and the little one health and long life, dear sister,” he said to Ana. She lowered her gaze, blushing. I had never seen her look so radiant.
Boleslav excused himself shortly thereafter. To this day, I regret not following him.
It was mid-May, on a sunny day when the fields and gardens burst with color and life. Žito and I waited with Václav while Přibislava and the midwives assisted Ana to deliver her child. My master flinched every time he heard Ana cry out. Helpless tears filled his eyes, as he spent those eternal hours in prayer.
It was dark when at last Přibislava came to the door, her face ashen.
“Is she?” Václav began.
Přibislava shuddered. “She will live, Brother. But the baby did not survive.”
Václav swallowed. “When may I see her?”
Přibislava grasped his hand and kissed him. “She sleeps now, but come in and be ready when she wakes.” She wiped away the tears on my master’s cheeks. “She will need the comfort of your presence then.”
Václav nodded, and it tore my heart to see the terrible grief on his face. He turned to Žito. “Will you stand here and guard the door from intrusion?”
Žito bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
“And Poidevin, will you come and pray with me ’til Ana wakes?”
I went down on one knee and pressed his free hand to my forehead.
We entered quietly, Václav still holding his sister’s hand. The two midwives were cleaning up. A pile of bloody rags lay on the floor. In a basket rested something small wrapped in a cloth. Přibislava noticed Václav staring at it.
“Yes, Brother, that is your son.”
He went to the basket and gently picked up the bundle, turning back the cloth to reveal an infant’s still, peaceful face. Bowing his head over the body, Václav stumbled to the adjoining chapel and knelt at the altar, his heart broken. I knelt beside him, supporting him in the only way I knew how.
After a long time, at least an hour, my master arose and tenderly covered the baby’s face. He placed the body in the basket and turned to his wife. She lay in their big canopied bed, her face white, and her long hair tangled and dull. Václav, at least, had seemed to find peace and strength in that hour, for when Ana opened her eyes, he was ready to comfort her. I slipped out the door to stand guard with Žito.
It took several months before Ana fully recovered both in body and spirit. Václav threw himself into the care and governing of his people, so I felt compelled to spend more time with her and Přibislava, trying to stir them from their grief.
One day when Ana had fallen asleep, Přibislava walked with me to the door.
“I wish I could take away her sorrow,” I said. “But perhaps my presence hinders her recovery, making her think about my master when he must be away.”
“No, Poidevin,” she said, placing her small hand on my arm. “Ana loves you and finds great comfort in your presence. I only wish my brother could spare more time for her, though I know he has a kingdom to rule.” Přibislava glanced at her sleeping sister-in-law before turning back and gripping my hand. “That is why your visits are so important to her now. Ana values your kindness and loyalty both to her and to Václav.”
I stared at her, dumbstruck. Would I ever get used to the idea that I, an insignificant servant, could matter to people I loved?
Then Přibislava surprised me even more. Smiling at my reaction, she stood on tiptoe and kissed my cheek. My hand automatically touched the place, and I turned to leave while my feet still touched the ground.