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Chapter 48

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Rohesia passed through Formacaster on her 34th birthday. Quite ironic, she thought, that a year ago this was her fondest wish. While sitting through her subdued feast in Leornian, she had hoped and prayed that she might be back in Formacaster by her next birthday. So, the wish had come true, though in a far more horrible way than she could have imagined.

Formacaster, of course, was nowhere close to being the worst of it, though. Or so she predicted when she finally stepped down from the carriage, Helena in her arms, into the courtyard of the Prince’s Palace in Rawdon. Aldrick’s demeanor was snide and his wife’s haughty. None of the small crowd of nobles and gentlemen there looked even remotely pleased to see her. She had been used to receiving, at the very least, forced smiles and good cheer wherever the court traveled, but apparently no one had informed the people of Rawdon that it was bad form to appear displeased at the arrival of a queen.

“So, Rohesia, you’re here,” Aldrick sneered when she stopped a few feet in front of him.

“I am, your grace,” she answered, effortlessly using the correct forms of address she had no doubt he was intentionally eschewing. “Please accept my condolences on the death of your father.”

He nodded vaguely, Rohesia wondering if he possessed the slightest filial regard for his excellent father. If only Duke Jeffrey’s health had been such that she could have petitioned him instead of Aldrick, the siege might have had a very different outcome.

Helena began to cry in her arms after a long nap in the carriage. Poor child was probably hungry. Whatever the case, the wetnurse swept forward and took the baby. Her arms free, Rohesia rested her hands on Alice’s shoulders and held her close.

“Where did you get another baby?” Aldrick asked.

“She is my niece, Helena Hyrne. Her mother, Countess Veronica, died delivering her.”

“And her father has run away,” Duchess Rachel said with a frown that showed what she made of Lawrence’s decision not to remain in Myrcia under the thumb of a false king.

“The nurse and I shall tend her,” Rohesia answered. “I promise neither of the girls will be any trouble to your graces.”

“She’s another mouth to feed. Well, more or less,” Aldrick answered, as if mouths to feed had ever been a concern to him, particularly when compared to how she had spent the previous year.

“We’ll have a servant show you to your rooms now,” said Duchess Rachel. “Your suite, the public rooms of the palace, and the beach are permissible areas for you. If you stray outside of those areas, we will have to inform the king.”

Rohesia had tried very diligently to control her anger on the trip here. She hated Broderick. Hated that he had driven her son into exile and caused the deaths of so many people in the war. Compared to those things, imprisoning her in Rawdon should be nothing. But her fury had grown as she traveled here, and now to be spoken to so disrespectfully by a coward and his petty wife. Rohesia could no longer contain all her hatred.

“It will be rather difficult for you to inform the king of anything, I am afraid. For he has been forced to flee his kingdom. If you mean you wish to communicate with that bastard usurper in Formacaster, I assure you I do not care one whit what you say to him about me.”

A rumbling of unease went through those assembled. She wondered how many of the men here had been loyal in their hearts to Edwin right up until Duke Jeffrey had died and Aldrick had signed his treaty with Broderick. The men of Newshire had always been loyal to the Sigor family, and therefore, naturally loyal to their Sigor kings. Perhaps given enough time, Rohesia would find a way to use this to her advantage. Few things would bring her more joy than gathering allies in Newshire to defeat Broderick and making him regret sending her here.

But Duchess Rachel ignored the muttering and smirked. “Oh, I will be telling him a great deal.”

Rohesia wanted to tell her not to bother, that Broderick cared very little for what she did here. Being in Newshire was the full punishment. He had nothing else for her. And as long as she did not attempt to foment rebellion against his rule, he did not care which rooms in the Prince’s Palace she occupied.

“I believe you mentioned showing us to our rooms,” Rohesia said. “It has been a long journey and we will welcome the rest.”

A servant stepped forward, curtsied, and headed for the front steps. Rohesia took Alice by the hand and followed. As they passed Aldrick, he whispered, “Remember you did this to yourself. It could have been so different.”

Rohesia stopped and looked past Aldrick at Rachel, a tall, blonde woman with a full figure. She could not entirely repress a shudder. “It could never have been as you wished. You had a duty, and you failed to do it. It really is that simple.”

“Get her out of here,” Aldrick snapped at the servant, who scurried several steps forward, as if trying to coax Rohesia into moving again.

But she stood calmly, a hand on Alice’s trembling shoulder. She stiffened her spine, looking quite pointedly at both the duke and duchess. The only way any of this could have been different would have been if Aldrick were somehow other than he was. But since he was the man who stood before her, this moment was destined to happen. With all her regal bearing, she now followed the servant to her new prison.

***

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THEIR FIRST WEEK IN Rawdon was in large part spent in finally mourning. The journey from Leornian to Rawdon had been too tense to do much other than contemplate what awaited them. But now they were here for the foreseeable future, and Rohesia and Alice could finally think about what they had lost.

They both missed Veronica, as she had been the only real aunt Alice had known. (Bless her, Jane Tynsdale always remembered Alice with small gifts, but that was not really the same.) And nothing was the same without Edwin. Rohesia felt Lawrence’s absence more acutely than Alice, who had never gotten to know her busy uncle very well. And whatever Rohesia might think of Elwyn, they both wished she could be with them now. Rohesia could only imagine how Elwyn was dealing with her own grief about Alfred, if she even knew.

But at the end of that first week, Rohesia decided it was time for their mourning to end. Alice must return to her studies, if for no other reason than she needed to have something to take her mind off missing Jennifer. (As Rohesia had feared, Broderick was using the girl as a pawn against her father. She had been sent to her family home in Stansted, but her father was not there, and one of Aldrick’s loyal men now ruled the estate of the earl.)

For herself, Rohesia vowed to take more exercise. Confinement did not suit her, and she was restricted to the grounds of the Prince’s Palace after living under a siege. And unlike when she was in Leornian, she had nothing to keep her occupied. She was permitted to write letters that were read before being sent, but there were only so many people she might bother writing in this fashion. So, exercise it was, strolling up and down the beach along Lake Newlin.

On her second lap, a cloaked figure slipped out from behind a boathouse. She started, but then something in the way he moved, the tilt of his head, told her not to fear. “Robert,” she whispered. “Is that really you?”

“Indeed, your majesty,” answered Robert Tynsdale from within the depths of his hood. “I had to come and see that you are well. Find out if you have any duty for me. And to bring you news.”

“News, please. Quickly.” She glanced over her shoulder at the palace. She was visible to the guards at the doors leading out to the beach, but she did not think Robert would be. Still, they had best not linger.

“King Edwin and his party are safely in Sahasra Deva. Caedmon’s hillichmagnar friend, Miss Ratnam, was there to greet them. Once I was certain they were safe, I left to find you.”

Dear Robert! No one had ever been more loyal. She would have never made it through so many trials without his aid. And now he had given her what she longed for most. “Thank Earstien! Did you tell Elwyn about Sir Alfred?”

“I did, your majesty. She was quite heartbroken, but she is remaining strong for the king and the earl.”

“Elwyn may surprise us all,” she said, trying to force a smile. “How is my son?”

“He is well, my lady. This is all a great adventure to him.”

“How marvelous to be young. And how is my brother?”

“Still very melancholy, my lady. Several times I thought if it were not for the responsibility of caring for the king, Earl Lawrence would just as soon sit by the road and never move again.”

Rohesia thought of poor Helena, who had been coughing most of the night, likely with croupe. And yet, it sounded as if she was doing better than her father.

“Thank you for coming. How might I reach you again should I need you?”

“I will let you know later, ma’am, once I have established a safe channel. I did not want to wait any longer than necessary to bring you word of the king.”

“And I thank you. We will get through this trying time, will we not, Robert?”

“We will, indeed, your majesty.” He bowed, and a moment later, he was gone.

Rohesia turned and headed back to the palace. Yes, mourning was at an end. It was time to start the long journey of winning back her son’s throne.

The End