Twenty-Nine

 

Siward said very little for the rest of that day, and most of the next. It was not until after dinner on the second night away from the Wall that he finally broke the silence between them.

"There is only one way you will be queen."

Rosamond sipped from her cup of wine. "Go on."

Siward hesitated. "You won't like it."

She stared at him across the fire, wishing she could read his thoughts. "I will not condone violence. The King's Council were appointed by my father, which meant he trusted their judgement, or at least their loyalty. I will not have them killed."

Siward looked stunned. "I had not considered that possibility."

Rosamond rose. "Then consider it now. I will not rule a kingdom by fear."

"But you would hold it to ransom with the Wall."

She waved his accusation away. "That is not the same. The Wall is not a threat. I am certain most people regard it as a simple fact of life. If it were to disappear overnight, or open with no explanation, then you will see fear. But if a rumour were to spread that the Wall appeared when the princess was lost, but it will open when she returns, and then you announce my miraculous return...the people will accept me, and the change."

Siward shook his head. "But not the Council. You will waste years arguing with them, and even then, they might not believe you. You might never regain the throne."

Rosamond stamped her foot in frustration. "No matter how stubborn they are, I will not let you kill them!"

Siward laughed softly. "Stubborn as they are, the Council are worth more to me alive. They at least had the good sense to make me king."

She glared at him. "So you're saying I should fight them, for however long it takes, while you steal my throne? I do not think so."

"I cannot steal what is freely given," he said. "And no matter what you do, I shall be king. You won't change their minds before my coronation, and afterwards...they will have their king. What will they want with a girl who claims to be a princess from a prior dynasty? They won't want to give you a crown, or a throne. No, they'll fight to wed you and bed you. Them, and their sons. For it is your blood they'll want, and the heirs they can beget on you. For if I fail, or die without an heir, they will have plenty of children with the right blood to plant in my place. They will never give their throne to a woman they consider little better than a brood mare."

"I am no one's bed toy. I was born to rule," Rosamond hissed.

Siward folded his arms across his chest. "There is a way. A way that will see you crowned queen before Midsummer."

"Tell me, and I shall do it."

Siward looked like he was holding back laughter. "Marry me."