When Rayne woke the next morning, the castle was eerily quiet. The sun was already up, and she had missed morning mass, but her emotional exhaustion overtook any attempt she made to wake before dawn. She decided to give in and went back into the sweet oblivion of sleep. It was as if she had only slept five minutes.
Sleep had done little to settle her mind, as she was just as confused as she had been the night before. Tillie's words had hit the mark, and she now doubted everything she felt. Rayne wanted to believe her, but she did not know how to extend trust one more time. The flames had come too close to devouring her one too many times. Andre was almost too perfect, if what Tillie had said was true. No one had treated her with kindness yet in her life, with the exception of Tillie, and she saw no reason for that to change. It was just too hard, and she was tired of fighting it.
The boys. Her delightful, amazing boys. Today she could tell Hamon and Jenri she was their mother. Something stopped her though. Something Andre had said made a lot of sense. How could she tell them she might take them from the only home they had known? They loved Andre, and she did not relish taking them away from him. How could she do this? A moment ago she thought of her own safety, the safety of her heart, but now, the boys were more important. How could she possibly make this decision on her own?
No matter how angry she was with Andre, he would do right by the children. This was something she must do with him. What she had to do was figure out how to approach him without being too close, feeling too much, and giving in to the love that lingered in her heart.
Rayne dressed and went to the great hall. Finding him was easy. She had done little with her appearance except change into a kirtle, wash her face, and run her fingers through her hair before tying it back. Bathing would wait.
Andre sat at the dais. The hall was empty. It was nearly time for the midday meal, but all was silent. He sat with his back to her, an ale mug in his hands, staring off into the flames of the fire. It was dying down and offered little warmth.
She trod as quietly as she could until she was nearly upon him. He did not turn to look, but offered a simple greeting, "Good day, Lady Rayne."
His stiffness surprised her. It was as if he were addressing a stranger. She should be glad, but it shot daggers through her heart.
"To what do I owe this honor?" he said in a monotone, still not looking in her direction.
"Andre, I wish to speak with you about Hamon and Jenri."
"They are with Aliza in the outer bailey if you wish to see them."
"I do, but I do not want to see them without you."
He rose slowly and then faced her. "And why is that? Do you want to tell them I kept their mother from them? That I held you in disdain for some odd reason and would not want you to be with them? You wish to take them from me, and I cannot and will not stop you."
"Nay," she said quietly, taking in his pain. "I do not know what I feel any longer, but I do not wish to harm them. I am not sure taking them from you is the best for them either. I just do not know how to comprehend what has happened between us."
"If my word is not enough, we have nothing."
His words hit her hard. Was she being too hard on him? Was he honest? In what way could she know?
"Trust, milady, is earned and given freely, but to take it away with no reason is cruel," he said. It was almost as if he could read her mind.
"I have been bullied for so long, I do not know what trust is."
"You do!" he said forcefully. "I have given you every reason to trust me. I have had you here to myself and have not dishonored you in any way. I could have taken you to my bed and had my way with you over and over until I tired of you. I could have indulged in your tempting body, and there would have been nothing you could have done about it. I have not, and I have shown you honor. I have given you all I can and trusted you, extended endless amounts of patience as you plotted to be set free, yet you cannot give me the benefit of doubting the word of Rufus, of all people, who has done nothing but lie. I did not have to tell you he accused me of knowing, yet I did. I couldn't believe you would accept that story, and yet you did."
His words stung. They hit their mark because they were true. Why was she so ready to believe the king when he had been false at every turn? Andre deserved better, and perhaps she should think harder before she ran off with her children. He said he loved her, and she hadn't trusted it. Had she become so cynical she readily believed any lie that caused her pain but rejected love with ease? The pain dealt was harsh, and she did not know how to look for goodness and joy, for they had escaped her too often. She had tried to put all of that behind her, but the test was in doing it, not wishing it.
It didn't matter now. She had time. At least, she hoped she had time. There was a lot to think about, and he would not force her out with her children should she become indecisive. The night before, she had been determined to let no one harm her again. No one would tell her what to do or rule her life. She only had to answer to God. Now, in the light of day, with Andre's angry and hurt eyes upon her, nothing was as simple as it had seemed. Was vulnerability a part of happiness? Should she trust and hope so she may truly fill the holes in her heart with this man she had begun to love?
"Before we go any further, I wish you to come with me to speak to the boys. I do not want to frighten them. I will not make any decisions about the future other than to tell them I am their mother."
"Thoughtful of you," he said.
"Andre please," she said, "do not make this harder than it has to be. Do they understand what a mum is? I mean, they are so young."
"They visit the village. They see other children with their mothers. Hamon has asked if Aliza is his mum. I had to answer him honestly. I believe Jenri understands as well. They know Aliza is their nurse and Geva died."
"This will be hard on us all."
"And of me?" Andre said.
"I do not understand what you ask."
"You have been so concerned with your own pain, you fail to consider mine. Mayhap the lady should think on that. I will speak to the boys with you. We shall take them down near the orchard before supper, should that please you."
"I want to make this easy for them, but I fear they are too young to understand what has happened. I do not want to frighten them. I have been watching them, trying to think of the best way to tell them. This changes their lives, and I just want to scoop them up and never let them go, but I may scare them and confuse them. It has held me at bay. I want to know I am going to say the right thing before I see them. Mayhap a short version will be best?"
"As you wish."
"They cannot fear losing someone they love again."
"That is the very thing you threaten me with, Rayne. You have stated you are taking the boys from me."
"I meant they do not need to fear a stranger will take them from their mother again," she said. The conversation was not going as she had hoped.
"We will tell them only what they need to know," he replied.
"Indeed," she said. "Andre, I…"
"Aye?" he said, turning away from her again.
"Geva. She was mad. It must have been from stealing my children. At least, it seems to be a reasonable explanation. I do not make light of how the heart works when hers was broken of her own accord. I will use care with the boys."
"Will you use care with me, Rayne?" His eyes were dull and lifeless as he spun around to face her once more and held her gaze. Her composure almost cracked.
Rayne could do nothing but stare as emptiness enveloped her and weighed on her heart. She had her children back, so why was she suddenly feeling as if her world was ending?