“Incredible!” Oliver laughed. He was obviously skeptical, knowing his sister’s proclivity to oftentimes exaggerate. She’d never been around much when he was little and when she had been, she’d always entertained him with wild stories that always involved fairies and dragons. That constituted the breadth of his experience with his big sister’s stories and so, understandably, he expected the same exaggeration dynamic was now in play.

“Stop it, Oliver! Let me finish!” (The interplay between them removed any doubt that may have existed as to whether the two were brother and sister.)

Alda took a deep breath while the rest partook of the meal and continued. “He pulled the lout, twice his size, off me and dueled with him to a draw with swords. Next, while the brute’s accomplices watched in disbelief, he wrestled the hulking beast and would have bested him too if the other three hadn’t piled on. But for Turpin’s intervention, Roland would be dead now, having sacrificed his life to save mine—and he, an apparent serf and perfect stranger at the time!”

“Oh, now I see! It makes perfect sense! In return for saving your life, you dropped down on one knee right there on the spot and asked a peasant and perfect stranger to marry you!”

Alda failed to see the humor in her brother’s mean spirited tease. “Oliver, now you just quit it!” She looked as if she might even come across the table at him.

“Now, now, children!” their mother interjected, as if to referee.

Both retreated and there was an uneasy, brief silence. Roland, seeing that brother and sister were at an impasse, intervened. “It’s alright, my love. You’re right. Perhaps your brother would appreciate a little more detail than I originally volunteered.”

Her hand nearest his was on the edge of the table. He placed his own over it and in a voice meant to calm her said, “Let me help.” She relaxed as the warmth of his hand on hers wicked through her whole body. The feeling of being rescued by him all over again washed over her. Her heart skipped a beat as she shuttered silently and caught her breath.

Roland recommenced. “I’d never been made aware that my mother was the king’s sister. My mother and father had been banished by Charlois before I was born for eloping in defiance of his royal edict. They were hiding out in plain sight all those years as peasants in the shadow of Father’s former fiefdom. Only after that initial encounter and my admission to my mother of the love I’d harbored for your sister for years from afar, did Mother reveal the true nature of our status as nobility.”

“But how did the two of you get together?”

Alda interrupted with feverish exuberance. “Just wait, Oliver! This is the best part!”

Roland went on. “Melesinda sent Secretary General, Eginhard to the village with an order for the aldermen and their families to attend the grand fete that same night at the Castle of Carcassonne. It was being thrown by Duke Ganelon in celebration of the king’s victory over the Lombards. She’d made sure our family was also invited to show their appreciation; I guessed, for having helped them with the highwaymen who’d accosted them that afternoon.”

“I see.” Oliver commented. “So, at that point, with the new knowledge of your rightful place in the social order, you found her at the party, introduced yourself and asked for her hand.”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh?”

“Mother felt it was imperative that we keep the secret of our true identity hidden for Father’s sake, as his life, we assumed, would have been at risk should we have been found out.”

Oliver was growing a little frustrated. “Then how did the two of you finally manage to end up betrothed to one another?”

“At the party that night, my family and I remained in the background hidden among the rest of the villagers observing the affair. However, because the king owed Ganelon a boon for his actions against Desidarius, which was the reason the whole event was taking place at Ganelon’s fiefdom at Carcassonne in the first place, everything suddenly changed.”

“How so?”

“The boon Ganelon asked for was the hand of your sister in marriage.”

Oliver interrupted, nearly losing his composure. “Ridiculous! He’s old enough to be my sister’s father! Good God! You mean that toady sycophant came near to being my Brother-in-Law?”

Alda smiled. “Absolutely!” she answered with smug satisfaction as she folded her arms and put her nose in the air.

Oliver shook his head slowly in a moderately horrified state of disbelief as Roland continued. “That’s when I stepped forward and revealed myself and true identity to the king. Surprisingly, it didn’t have the deleterious effect Mother had feared. Charlois was gracious and conciliatory. He openly admitted regret along with responsibility for the loss, by his own actions, of his beloved Sister seventeen years earlier. It was a poignant and quite tearful reunion.”

Oliver nodded. “I can just imagine! I would have loved to have been there to see it.”

Roland answered, “Thank God you were fighting Ethelwulf instead!”

Oliver sighed. “Yes, I suppose. And yet, you still haven’t told me the circumstance that brought the two of you together.”

“Well, as I’ve indicated, I’d decided I’d rather risk it all than allow Alda to fall into any hands other than my own. I threw the gauntlet down right then and there, declaring no other would ever marry your sister unless she willed it so or I was dead!”

Oliver chuckled nervously. “Do tell!”

“The king asked Alda what she wished and she then made her public declaration of love. It was only then that I learned our feelings for one another were mutual. Of course, Ganelon had to object. So, to decide who would marry your sister as well as whether my father would be reinstated to his former status and regain his former fiefdoms, the king declared that a Trial-by-Combat would be held between Ganelon and myself in the tourney format four days hence. Since we were both loyal to the throne, Charlois declared that it would not be to the death, but would instead only cease and be decided when one or the other of the combatants finally yielded, crying hold, enough!”

“You bested Ganelon?”

“I believe I might have. The day of the tourney, we jousted to a draw. As we were about to go to ground with sword and shield, Ganelon sued for a halt in the proceedings without prejudice, explaining that he’d never really had any desire to hurt my father or his family, nor did he wish to be the cause of true love lost. He declared in front of all present that he’d only accepted the fiefdoms of Briton and Languedoc at the King’s insistence and that he’d never really coveted the added responsibility. He claimed he’d only accepted them out of loyalty to the king. As far as Alda was concerned, he said he’d really only meant for the marriage to provide her with some dominion and dignity as well as protection.”

Oliver seemed mesmerized. “Amazing! Ganelon said that?”

“He did.”

“Maybe I’ve been wrong about him all along.”

“No, my friend.”

“What do you mean?”

“He married my mother while my father’s body was still warm in the grave.”

“What?” Alda blurted with alarm.

Roland looked back and nodded. “Yes, it’s true. He let my mother believe I was dead and convinced her to marry him ostensibly, for a protective alliance. He’s up to no good. I’m sure of it—or at the very least, that he’s not to be trusted. You’re instincts are right, Oliver. I’m certain of it now.”

Oliver smiled. He was beginning to understand why his sister was so attracted to this stranger. “Well, welcome to the family, Roland. You’ve restored my waning faith in my sister’s judgment!” The rest all laughed.

As the duke finished his dessert, he posed the question all had been carefully avoiding. “So tell me, Roland; what’s the king’s message that is so dangerous, he finds it necessary to have it delivered by my future son-in-law?” The long-awaited question prompted nervous laughter.

“He’s proposing that, in order to save the lives of fellow Franks, the question of your supposed fealty breach be decided by a representative from either side of the argument in a Trial-by-Combat at noon tomorrow.”

Oliver pushed back from the table and stood. “Don’t do it, Father!” he exclaimed adamantly. “The only reason he’s making the offer is because he sees now that he can’t touch us!”

Gerard was circumspect and remained calm. Oliver sat back down during his father’s thoughtful silence, waiting anxiously for his response. Gerard continued to give the proposal consideration and finally commented. “But if I don’t accept the challenge, think how many more Franks will surely die! No, Oliver; this time, the king is right. It’s the most honorable and gallant way to resolve the issue.”

Oliver looked away with sadness in his eyes. With an air of somber resolution he replied, “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

At this point, Roland had finished his dessert. He stood and gave a curt head-bow to the duke. “Very good then, Lord Gerard. With that then, I’ll say thank you and take my leave.” Still addressing the duke, he looked down at Alda. “At least I know I’ll get to see you all again tomorrow.”

Alda jumped to her feet and clung to him. “Roland, no! Please, my love! Stay a little while longer” she implored. Frantically, she looked to the duke. “Father! Please tell him he has to stay a little while longer!” she pleaded.

Gerard smiled and stood. “Roland, you’re going to be my new son. I think it’s safe to say we’d all like to take this opportunity to get to know you a little better. Stay here with us this evening and have a game of chess with me in the drawing room. I want to hear more about your childhood as a woodcutter’s son!”

Agnes seconded her husband’s invitation. “Yes, do stay awhile! And I especially want to hear you tell your version of how you came to know of Alda’s existence; about how you had watched her when she’d come to swing and I most especially want to hear about her dropping the torn shirt. I’m just dying to find out how you caught it and managed to hand it back up to her without violating her modesty!”

Alda was ready to get down on her knees and beg if it would do any good. “Yes, Roland! I want to hear it again too!” Then she frowned and thought better. “But not the part about when I was left naked from the waist up, standing in front of you. Please. That was embarrassing and awkward enough the first time!”

Roland smiled at Alda as Agnes added, “And then Alda; I want to hear your version of how you first met along with your version of the tourney for your hand!” She turned to Roland and with the kindest, softest smile asked, “Roland, won’t you please stay?”

Roland shrugged and returned her smile. “You’ve all been so kind with your gracious hospitality; how can I refuse?” He hesitated as he considered the proposition one more time then finished his answer. “I suppose it makes no difference if I don’t go back right away.” He embraced Alda looking with warmth and tenderness into her soft, blue eyes. “And I have to say, I would like to be as close to your daughter as I can be for as long as possible!”

“Oh, Roland!” Alda exclaimed once more as she hugged and kissed him with what seemed like an unquenchable hunger. Her indiscreet behavior would surely have been an embarrassment to the rest of the family had circumstances been otherwise than what they were.

“Then you’ll stay?” asked Agnes.

Roland managed to escape Alda’s embrace momentarily. With a broad grin, he answered emphatically, “Yes! Why not!”

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Gerard. He stood and motioned for all to follow him to the drawing room. As the little group passed from the dining hall, he called out, “Mandrik!”

The head of the kitchen help appeared as if called up from a magic lamp. “Yes, Sire!”

“Have after-dinner confections and aperitifs brought to the drawing room. We’re going to have a night of chess!”

Mandrik bowed. “By your leave Sire” As quickly as he’d appeared, he was gone.

The drawing room was simply an over-sized antechamber off the main upstairs hallway located at the head of the main stairway near the downstairs kitchen for easy access. Its purpose was to allow for the entertainment of visiting friends and family in a more intimate venue.

The room had a warm, friendly atmosphere about it. It was only about twenty feet square with no windows and a fifteen foot high ceiling from which hung a buckhorn chandelier. Its walls were hung with Flemish tapestries depicting pastoral scenes of Pan and scantily clad wood nymphs romping about the forest or Bacchus and his Bacchantes reveling among the vines. Framing each and dividing them, one from the other, were faux, fluted columns of polished mahogany topped with ornate Corinthian capitols that supported a wondrously ornate, over-sized, crown molding, also of mahogany. The floor was covered from wall to wall with a gaily colored, woven, wool carpet from the far-off land of Persia.

A fire burned in the chamber’s fireplace. Gilded sconces on the wall to either side of its mantle furnished additional light for the board games played in their shadow. Half a dozen exquisitely carved armchairs of dark hardwood provided seating for the players and any observers along with small matching side tables, for refreshments.

The chess table itself was a beautiful piece of carved furniture in its own right, which matched the other furniture. The squares comprising the board were of black onyx and white ivory inlaid into the table-top itself. The chess pieces were also of carved ivory and onyx to match. The table-top was large enough so that captured pieces could be set to one side or the other without hindering the game and there was a drawer below on either side to store the pieces when not in use, so that the table could be used for playing cards or any number of other games.

The pieces on this night were already set up for play. The duke picked up a pawn of black and one of white, put them behind his back to exchange them a few times then held them forth unseen to Roland in his fists.

“The guest always gets to choose!” he announced.

Roland smiled and pointed to his right fist whereupon it was opened revealing the white pawn. “White!” he exclaimed. “So, you attack and I must defend!” Gerard laughed.

“I know enough about this game to know that it only means I get to make the first move!” Roland replied with a modest grin.

“Uh oh! An insightful comment. I may be in for more trouble than I thought!” he commented light-heartedly as both laughed and sat down to play. Alda took her seat next to Roland holding his hand and Agnes took hers next to the duke.

Roland, without any hesitation, moved his first pawn to king’s-knight-two, as the servants descended on the room with port wine, cheeses and jellied pastries. Just as quickly, they were gone and the little group was left to itself once more. The duke poured himself a red slip snifter of Port and studied the board thoughtfully.

“So, you prefer the King’s Bishop-and-Queen-Attack, I see.”

Roland smiled and raised a brow. “I think Hilde and Turpin are always a formidable combination.” Everyone was surprised and taken by Roland’s clever metaphorical entendre. They couldn’t suppress a spontaneous burst of laughter.

It wasn’t long before the girls were correcting their mates to the point it became questionable as to just exactly who was playing the game. But it really didn’t matter. They were more interested in the conversation which seemed always to return to the romance of the two young people in their midst.

At one point, Oliver asked, “So Roland, how exactly did my sister end up standing in front of you naked from the waist up?” Alda blushed but remained silent as Roland rose from the table to explain.

“As you know already, her miscreant attacker had torn away her shirt at the very start and during the time I was occupied with combat, she’d picked the piece up and was holding it to cover herself.”

At this point, Roland dropped to one knee in front of Alda, who still kept her silence but smiled at him with loving eyes. “I was on one knee, as she’d agreed to allow me to kiss her hand.” Here, he took Alda’s hand. “As I went to kiss her hand the piece of cloth slipped from her other hand, falling on the one I was about to kiss. I held tight and grabbed her other hand that she’d thrust toward the dropped cloth so she couldn’t pull away.”

He looked into her eyes as he spoke his next sentence. “I wanted that kiss!” Alda was embarrassed all over again. She smiled and blushed accordingly. “I told her not to worry; that she was in the hands of her champion and thus, one who respected and would protect her modesty above all else. I kept my head and eyes down and away from her the whole time as I kissed her hand and when it was ended, handed back up the shirt piece without raising my gaze until she’d had time to recover herself.”

Alda leaned over pulling him to her and kissed his closed eyes and hugged him then helped pull him up and back into his seat.

Oliver and the duke sat silent pondering what they’d just seen and heard. Agnes fanned herself with a serviette. “Oh, my!” she murmured. Having envisioned the scene just described, none in the family would have further need to question the two lover’s feelings, one for the other, forever after. Gerard even reached across the little table, patted Roland on the shoulder and smiling, gave him a head-nod of approval.

Oliver grinned. “I’m glad for both of you. You have what Mother and Father have. I fear it’s very rare in this life and must confess I envy you.”

Roland stood and shook Oliver’s hand. “Thank you Oliver for saying so. Well, I’m afraid it’s late. Now, I really must take my leave.”

Agnes rose and took his arm objecting, “Why? Charlois can wait ’til tomorrow morning for his answer. It won’t change a thing. Stay the night! We’ll wake you early, feed you and see you on your way.”

Roland returned a sad smile. “M’lady, you’re very kind. But, I couldn’t.”

Alda was insistent. “Why not? All of us want you to!”

“Yes, Roland. Please stay the night,” her father urged.

Roland’s face reddened. “But M’lord, we’re not married yet!”

The reply startled everyone. An awkward silence followed as the family looked at one another as if seeking a cue as to how to react. Then, spontaneously, Oliver, the duke and duchess erupted with laughter; this while Alda remained silent with her eyes to the floor and Roland stood by looking quite confounded.

Very shortly, the duchess, seeing the couple was in misery, took pity and spoke to relieve their discomfort. “Son,” she said, directing her words to Roland, “We didn’t mean that you should sleep with Alda! Only that you should stay so you can be near her a little longer. You can stay in the guest bed-chamber across the hall from her.”

Now, Roland was really embarrassed. “Forgive my presumption. I can’t believe I was even thinking like that! I meant nothing by it.”

Duke Gerard chuckled and patted him gently on the back. “Of course not, son. We understand… then, you’ll stay?”

Roland returned a sincere look. “If it will make you happy, I accept.”

Predictably, Alda threw her arms around Roland. She came from his blind side almost knocking him over. “Oh, Roland, my love! Thank you!” she blurted. Then, still with her arms around his neck, she looked to her mother and exclaimed with happy exuberance, “There really must be a God!” Agnes didn’t say a word. She just smiled knowingly.

Roland had no night shirt so, after stripping naked, he quickly jumped into the guest bed pulling its thick goose-down duvet up to his neck. He then leaned over to the night stand and blew out his candle. He could feel his heart beat and looked at the ceiling as he pondered the day’s events and those yet to come. He closed his eyes and the tableau pictures in his mind began to spin becoming a blur as if caught up in a whirlwind.

In the middle of it all, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a hauntingly familiar woman’s voice humming. He opened his eyes as soon as he realized it was Alda’s voice from across the hall. He listened to the soothing sound as it fell upon his ears like warm rain. He closed his eyes again, listening and thinking of her and how it would someday be. He would not only be able to hear her melodious voice while beneath the covers but also feel her warm breath along with the velvety softness of her body wrapped in his while he tasted her mouth and smelled her hair. The thought was a salve on his long-suffering soul. He laid there, eyes closed, quietly basking in the comfort of it and continued to listen.

Across the hall, Alda sat in front of the mirror at her vanity brushing out her hair. She was almost ready for bed having undressed behind her paravant and donned her floor-length nightgown. She continued to hum as she finished with her hair, crawled into bed and blew out her candle. She ceased humming and stared at the ceiling momentarily, then closed her eyes.

Not quite a minute had passed when she suddenly opened her eyes and sat bolt-upright in her bed. Not realizing she was verbalizing her thoughts out loud, she whispered, “God! For the first time ever, you’ve answered my prayers and I insult you by turning my back on your miracle!” She paused momentarily considering her circumstance then exclaimed in a louder whisper, “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned!”

Before even finishing the expression of penance, she jumped out of bed, raced barefoot, tiptoeing to her door and put her ear to it, listening intently. Hearing nothing, she slowly cracked open her door and peered out into the hallway to confirm it was deserted. Then, without making a sound, she darted across the hall and into Roland’s room closing his door carefully behind her so as not to disturb him in any way. Carefully, she tiptoed across the floor to the bed, lifted the covers and crawled in next to him. He was just then drifting from a state of semi-consciousness into the first stages of sleep.

He was entering into a dream state concerning Alda when he was reawakened by the pressure of an arm being laid across his chest. Startled, he sat straight up and blurted, “What th—!”

Alda shoved her hand over his mouth and with her other, put a finger to her lips. “Shhh! Mother and Father will hear us!” she cautioned in a desperate, whisper.

Realizing who it was, Roland’s heart, though racing before, was now beating so fast the beats themselves were imperceptible. “But darling,” he gasped, “we’re not married yet!”

Alda answered his objection by sitting up in bed and slowly pulling her nightgown up over her head revealing her naked silhouette in the blue light of the moon as it streamed through the stained glass window panes of the bedchamber’s alcove. Roland pinched himself to make sure the whole thing wasn’t part of his dream. Then, to make doubly sure, he reached out and pinched her.

“Ouch!” she whispered, “What was that for?”

“Sorry!” he whispered.

Looking at him like a seductress from the myths of the ancients, relaxed, naked and unashamed, she asked, “Are you planning on sending me away?”

Roland reached out and took her in his arms. “Never! Not in this life or the next or evermore!” he whispered. He held her close, kissing her more passionately and longer than ever before. He then explored her entire body as she laid back and allowed him to do anything with it he pleased. With loving tenderness, he kissed and touched her everywhere. He handled her with the greatest of care as if she might break and was the most precious object in the universe.

The longer he caressed and kissed her body’s most intimate places, the wilder her desire for him grew. At last, she could bear it no longer. She pounced on him and took over like a cat with a mouse, moving with deftness and aggression up and down, over and around until he was sure he would explode.

Finally, they engaged in the ultimate act and to Roland, it was as if he’d been completely submerged in a pool of warm honey. Yet, he could still breathe and the air was more sweet and cool and fresh than any he had ever inhaled. With each breath, he became more and more intoxicated until he didn’t remember who or what or where he was or even what he was doing and didn’t care. It was a feeling completely new and foreign to him and yet, seemed so perfectly right—like something that was once part of him; that he’d always known existed and that, since birth, he’d been in an endless, relentless struggle to recover.

For Alda, it was as if she’d come in from the freezing cold to a room so warm that she couldn’t tell if the sublime comfort of it all was coming from the inside out or from the outside in. It was the feeling she had always thought about; new just had to be out there somewhere, somehow, but could never quite identify. She could feel each of his touches coming, whether from his fingers or lips, before contact. It was as if every inch of her body was being pulled much like the sparks that pop and crackle as they dart from a burning green log inexplicably sprouting unseen wings with which to fly up a chimney toward some force unseen in the darkness of the night that mysteriously draws them forth.

He continued to kiss and caress her as if she were the most delicate bubble of foam in a calm eddy at the base of a raging waterfall. She found herself drifting ever closer to that same waterfall’s edge, yet felt powerless to fight the current that was carrying her ever nearer its precipice no matter how strong her attempt to resist its pull. She was afraid. Nevertheless, she recognized the futility of escape from the inevitable, finally abandoning any hope of rescue from whatever might lie beyond the approaching edge. She gave in, relaxed and was carried over. To her surprise, all that was waiting at the bottom of the dark abyss was a sublime ecstasy, unlike any she had ever known or could ever possibly have imagined. The climactic feeling was so powerful in its pleasantness that she momentarily blacked out and thought that perhaps this was, after all, just maybe what dying and death might really feel like after all. If it was, she didn’t want to live another moment.

When she regained a state of semi-consciousness, all she longed for was a return to the precipice, to be carried over its edge once more. The two lovers continued to indulge themselves in the heat of passion with one another until the light in their bedchamber finally began to grow bright. At last, the two were roused from their hypnotic-like trance by a cock’s crow.

Roland held her off and pushed back. “My darling, we have to stop. You have to get back to your room now or we’ll be discovered!”

Alda threw herself back on him as if she were his blanket. “I will,” she replied with a coy grin, “but not until you satisfy me one more time!” Afterward, Alda slipped back into her nightgown, gave him one more lingering kiss and then tiptoed hurriedly on bare feet back across the hall.

A half an hour later, Roland, Alda and the rest of the family were gathered around the table in the same dining hall of the previous evening having their breakfast. Only a few words of greeting had been exchanged initially, after which silence had ensued while all were being served by the kitchen help. As soon as the servants were gone, each member of the little group continued on silently, commencing with the morning repast.

Duke Gerard was first to break the silence. “Well, Roland; did you sleep well last night?”

Roland looked to make sure the duke was focused on the food he was eating (which he was) then ventured a glance at Alda, after which he answered enthusiastically, “Best night of my life, Sire! I can’t wait to have many more just like it here at your castle!”

The spirited nuance in his reply caused the duke to look up. “Good! I’m glad to hear you like this place! I enjoy spending nights here too! I think it’s the most restful place on earth.” He looked to Agnes. “Don’t you think so too, Mother?”

Agnes could see from the way the two lovers were acting that something significant had apparently transpired during the night. She was pretty confident she knew exactly what and replied straight-faced but ever so metaphorically, “Husband, the Castle of Vienne is a great place to get in a good night!”

The duke had already looked back down to determine his next bite as the duchess smiled and winked at Roland, who she could see was startled by her reply. She then looked on over at her daughter who squirmed in her chair uncomfortably. Agnes couldn’t help but notice what seemed like a guilty look on Alda’s face.

Shortly after breakfast, everyone adjourned to the inner courtyard where a stable groom was waiting with Veillantif. It was obvious everyone was reluctant to part company with Alda’s intended. Roland accepted the reins of his horse from the groom but before mounting, turned back to the others. He reached a hand to the duke and shaking said, “Thanks for everything.”

Gerard’s eyes sparkled and he smiled. “Roland, it’s been an honor and a pleasure!”

Agnes pushed between the two and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re no disappointment, Roland! You’ve lived up to Alda’s lofty descriptions in every way!”

As the duchess stepped back, Oliver stepped forward, placed a hand on Roland’s shoulder and with his other, shook the parting knight’s hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Roland. We’re going to be truly blessed having you in the family.”

Roland smiled. “Thanks, Oliver.”

Alda had waited patiently to be the last to say good-bye in order not to be rushed. She took Roland by the hand and led him a little way off, out of earshot. The rest understood and took no offense.

“Roland!” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes, “I don’t want you to go!”

He answered softly. “I know, darling, but I have to.”

She was almost child-like as she whispered back. I want more of you right now!”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Me too! But, I’m honor-bound to get back to Charlois with his answer and after that, at least try to get a little sleep!”

Alda was like a defiant little child sulking in the corner she’d been sent to for being naughty. “Then I’m going straight back from here to the chapel where I’ll pray for you to come again tonight!”

A sly grin appeared on his face. He looked and saw that Veillantif was blocking the sightlines between them and the rest of the family. Quickly he reached up and pinched her nipple through the bodice of her dress playfully. “Lover, a man can only come so many times!”

Alda squealed with surprise but managed to suppress the volume. She was shocked by the salacious remark but, at the same time, amused and happy to see the familiarity as well as the relaxed trust and confidence he obviously now had for her. Still, she was embarrassed and her blush showed it.

She reacted almost immediately by slapping his chest playfully. “After we’re married, I’ll expect you to come for me constantly!”

Roland kissed her softly and then hopped up onto the mounting stool next to Veillantif. From there it was another hop up to his back. Looking back down at Alda, he smiled and asked teasingly, “Didn’t you mention last night, that it still wasn’t too late to change my mind about this wedding?”

Alda grimaced playfully and hit him on the leg as he prepared to ride away. “Mean!”

He reached down smiling and kissed her forehead as her lips were now too far away. “Adieu, my love!” As he rode away, Alda smiled and waved through her tears as the rest watched smiling and waving until he passed from sight.