Chapter Fifteen

 

Cassandra gazed out the window as she tied her hair back with the ribbon left with the crème gown she was meant to wear. She avoided the brass mirror that hung from the wall next to the window. The darkening of the skin on her cheek horrified her. She glanced up, a sad sorrowful smile appearing on her face.

Her son now floated in the heavens as a star. In the evening, she could perform the counter spell and hold him in her arms again. Of course, that would be if the child in such a weak, infant state could survive the spell. She thought of how much he looked like his father, her heart and body suddenly aching for Matthew. She wanted to be held, she wanted to be kissed just once more. She did not even wish for a rescue…just for him.

Cassandra did not turn as she heard the door open and close. She felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist.

“I have always loved your hair tied back like this. You look so innocent, so feminine,” Victor breathed. He buried his lips in the bare curve between her neck and shoulder. Cassandra pulled away, taking a step from his grasp. “I hope the dress is to your satisfaction,” he growled in irritation.

“It is lovely. Thank you,” Cassandra replied softly.

Victor grasped her hips, pulling her body against his. He crooned over her shoulder. “I know your skin is accustomed to silk. Once I am lord, have my castle, and you prove to me to be a good obedient wife, then I will swaddle your body in silk again.”

Cassandra swallowed back her sudden tears, her eyes fixed on the distant towers of the palace. Victor continued, “I told you Matthew is not coming. He is cowering under his throne, wondering what to do. He will be easy prey. I will come back and take you home. Our home.”

Victor grasped Cassandra harder, digging his fingers into her hipbones, listening to her pain-filled gasp. “And if I ever see that black haired little wretch again,” he hissed into her ear, “I will slit his throat and gut him like a pig. The only babes that will suckle at your breast will be the ones I sire for you. Heaven knows he will not have a father to run to.”

Cassandra spun around in his arms as tears streamed from her eyes. “Please, do not kill Matthew, please? I will do anything. I will go anywhere. But please spare his life. Please?”

Victor chuckled at her. “And how do I make you mine if you still by law belong to another man? No, Cassie. I have wanted this too long.”

“Then,” Cassandra took a step out of his arms, “I will be dead by sunset.”

“You may.” Victor drew her close again, pressing her body against his. “There is only one room in this fortress with no windows. I do not trust your magic, so I put a little help in there to assure me you will not escape.” He beamed at her with an evil smile. “You better be on your knees praying for my return before the nightshade takes your life.”

Cassandra gasped as Victor took her arm. “It is time to go, Cassie.”

Cassandra followed behind Victor defeated, her world falling apart at her feet. She looked up as she heard a trumpet blast. Victor dragged her back to the window and opened it. He shouted to a soldier scurrying across the fortress wall, “What is happening?”

“We are under attack,” the soldier shouted back.

“By who?” Victor asked incredulously.

“The royal army, sir.”

Victor paused. “Who is leading them?”

“King Matthew himself, sir.” The soldier fled to take his place.

Cassandra pulled from Victor's grasp as he stared at her dumbfounded. “He came for me. He did come for me.”

“He will not find you.” Victor grabbed Cassandra’s wrist hard as he dragged her from the room. She struggled against his iron grasp as she stumbled behind him. He led her down one staircase after another, finding them occupied by soldiers engaged in battle. He broke into a run for the last staircase, mercilessly forcing her into a trot behind him.

He readjusted his grasp on her as he pulled her down the spiral stairs. “Once we reach the bottom, we will be in the stable yard,” Victor panted. “We will mount and escape before anyone can find—”

Victor stopped suddenly, his strong frame jarred a little as Cassandra collided into him. He stared at the gleaming tip of the sword then at the smoldering, dark eyes of the man who held it. The blade illuminated the walls of the staircase in a soft, white glow brighter than the candles perched in their brass sconces.

“Ah, look. All three of us reunited,” Victor sneered at the man he knew as his best friend.

“Give me my wife,” Matthew demanded.

“Really, Matthew? You would let a woman come between us?”

Matthew swung his weapon, severing a candle in half. “The woman I love, the woman who possesses my body and soul, the only thing I need in the entire universe? Yes. I would run you through in a heartbeat.”

Matthew looked up at Cassandra. His eyes widened in panic as he saw the bruising and her much smaller frame.

“He is safe, Matthew. He is safe,” Cassandra assured. Matthew nodded as worry overcame his face. He turned his hateful glare back to Victor.

Victor grasped Cassandra to him. “He will not be once I get my hands on him.”

Matthew gripped his sword, swinging it towards Victor. Victor leapt back as he drew his own and struck back. Cassandra retreated a few steps above, cowering as she watched Matthew and Victor lock stares as they plotted their tactical advantage.

Without warning, the two men simultaneously struck out at each other. Anger and hate flowed through their veins into the hands that controlled their swords. The sound of clashing metal echoed through the softly lit stairway, pounding fear into Cassandra's heart. She backed up a step at a time as the heated battle raged on.

Matthew lashed out with all his might, knocking Victor away. Victor regained his stance and struck in return. He stretched back and drove his sword into the soft flesh of Matthew's stomach. Matthew dropped his sword as he clenched his abdomen, his shirt growing damp with his own blood. Victor laughed as he grasped Cassandra's arm. Her cries rang out.

“Always been a little slow, my friend,” Victor jeered. “Now, if you will excuse us.”

Cassandra's eyes filled with rage. She struck Victor with her small fists as she struggled. “Let me go, you fiend! Let me go!”

Victor turned towards her then raised his fist and drove it across her face. She fell to the stairs behind her, her head colliding against the edge of a stone step. “Bitch,” Victor spat. “I will teach you obedience or kill you in the process.”

Cassandra struggled to push herself up on her hands. She collapsed, almost losing consciousness as a trail of blood flowed from the gash on her forehead.

“Bastard,” Matthew growled as he knelt to clench the handle of his sword. He rose, brandishing it towards Victor, the blade radiating like the sun. “No man treats the woman I love in such a manner and lives.”

Matthew mercilessly hacked at Victor, causing the blond commander to lose ground quickly. He embedded his blade into Victor's stomach and drove it through to the hilt. Victor fell back on the stairs as Matthew withdrew the weapon. Matthew dropped the sword as he crumpled to a heap on the ground.

Cassandra rushed past Victor's limp body to Matthew's side. He touched her beaten face gently, tenderly stroking her cheek. She pressed her hand over his wound then closed her eyes. She pulled away and turned her hand over. Her fingers were covered in blood.

“No. This cannot be.” Cassandra laid her hand frantically against Matthew’s flesh again and once again found it futile.

He caught her hand in his. “Stop, Cassa,” Matthew whispered as he gazed into her eyes.

“I have to. I have to, or you will…” Cassandra’s words died on her lips.

“I have what I want,” Matthew breathed. “I found you, my love.”

Cassandra buried her face against his shoulder, her body rising in sudden sobs. He held her tight.

“Cassa, do not cry. Please,” Matthew begged.

Cassandra raised her head weakly and pressed her lips against his. She bolted upright as she heard approaching footsteps. She picked up Matthew’s sword and clumsily raised it in protection.

“No, Cassa,” he demanded. “They will kill you.”

Cassandra stared ahead as she brandished the weapon. She clenched the hilt tighter to stop her hands from shaking. Gasping, she dropped the heavy instrument as the royal soldiers of Savon appeared. “He is hurt. Please help,” she pleaded.

The troops bowed in compliance as they dropped to their knees to tend to their king. They hoisted Matthew to their shoulders and carefully carried him down the stairs. Cassandra turned, glaring at Victor in repulsion. She did not move as a soldier approached her.

“Your majesty. You are bleeding,” the soldier stated softly.

Cassandra pulled her icy stare away as she slowly rose to her feet. She stopped and knelt down again, quickly scooping the blood red stone that had fallen from Victor's pocket into her hand. She flashed a final glare before standing once again and letting them lead her away.

 

* * * *

 

Cassandra floated her hand on the surface of the warm water then gently plunged it under. She listened carefully to the midwife chide the maids to leave her be. She had already suffered one loss, she heard the woman say. By the end of the day, she would suffer another.

The physician had examined her shortly after she had returned to the palace, after she had watched several officers and Joseph rush her husband into their bedchamber and bar the door from anyone's entry. The physician confirmed that she had given birth with no complications, leaving the entire household to assume that the prince had died at Gorgon's hand.

Cassandra sighed as she stared at the ceiling of the rose bedchamber. She cleared her throat then called, “Angelique.”

The door opened silently. “Yes, Cassandra?” Angelique asked timidly.

Cassandra rolled over in the tub, facing her. “Get Cook and go to my bedchamber. I want my crimson gown, my robe, my slippers, and my crown.”

Angelique shot her a puzzled look. “As you wish.” She closed the door behind her.

Cassandra grabbed the soap, lathering the bar before rubbing the suds over her skin and through her long brown hair. She held her breath as she slipped under the water to rinse herself. She carefully stepped out and reached for the sheet, wrapping it around herself and gently drying her skin. As she finished, Cook and Angelique reappeared with her things.

They silently dressed Cassandra, neither of them willing to ask their queen of her plan. Angelique brushed Cassandra’s hair before braiding it and pinning them against her head. She then softly added the small, gold crown.

Cassandra stood and faced Angelique. “Dress,” she commanded. “As my lady-in-waiting, you will join me in court today. Hurry, and I will meet you in the throne room.”

“But Cassandra—”

“Go.”

Cassandra breezed from the bedchamber across the balcony to the stairs. She quickly dispersed the courtiers to change then slipped into the throne room. Gingerly, she sat on Matthew's throne, avoiding her own, newly hand-carved, one. She sighed bitterly. If I do not have to look at Matthew’s empty chair, I will not have to imagine life without him.

She did not look up as Angelique appeared dressed in her own gold and crème silk gown.

Within moments, Joseph stormed through the door. “Cassandra, what is the meaning of this? This is no time for games,” he hissed.

Cassandra stared at Joseph coolly. “The news of Matthew's injuries will spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom. The people will need to know that there is someone still to protect them, to hold the crown securely—someone who will rule them with love and fairness. Is that not my position now?”

Joseph remained silent. Cassandra stood and approached him. “And I would rather be here than sitting in that room going mad, wondering what is happening to my husband. So unless you are prepared to tell me something, then I suggest you let me perform my duty.”

Joseph bowed to her. “Yes, your majesty.” He rose to his feet and strode from the room. Cassandra slumped on the throne again as she fought tears.

Cassandra spent most of the day in solitude, occasionally standing to pace the floor. She refused food and drink. Angelique and Cook watched from the side door, concern written on their faces. Cassandra shot up in her seat as Otto walked in late in the afternoon.

“Matthew,” Otto called. He stopped short as he found Cassandra sitting on the throne. “Cassandra. I am sorry. I thought since court was in session, maybe…”

“It is all right. What do you have to report?”

“We have captured most of Gorgon's army. Those we have not caught are fleeing.”

Cassandra paused for a moment as she thought. “Do you have any soldiers who did not fight?”

“Yes, the remnant we left in the north. They have just returned.”

“Take them and capture those that have escaped. End this war, Otto.”

Otto bowed. “Yes, your majesty.”

“One more thing,” Cassandra added. “I want Gorgon and Victor brought before me. Alive or dead, I do not care which.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Otto rose and departed. Cassandra sighed miserably as she began to pace again.

Night fell silently on Savon, leaving its queen in anguish. She pushed to her feet again as Joseph appeared at the door. “Yes?” she begged.

Joseph took her hands gently. “Do you have anything? Anything at all?”

“No.”

“I am sorry, Cassandra.” Tears flooded her eyes as she pulled her hands from his and pressed them to her lips. Joseph continued, “He is asking for you. The physician is bandaging his wound then will clear everyone from the room. That way you will have some time alone together before…”

Cassandra nodded, stunned. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” Joseph bowed his head before slowly walking to the door.

Cassandra stumbled to the battle room as the tears burned her eyes. She ripped a map in half then grasped a quill in her hand, jotting a message quickly on the aged parchment. Pushing through the heavy wooden doors, she stood on the top step outside.

“Eliezar!” Cassandra called urgently, clenching the note in her hand. “Eliezar!”

Cassandra jogged down the steps as she searched the night sky, her heart aching to see the tiny falcon. Her slippered foot caught in the hem of her gown. Cassandra tumbled to the ground, staring as the piece of paper blew away in the breeze. Covering her head for several moments, she sobbed loudly in the dirt.

Finally, she stood and returned to the palace entrance. She slowly climbed the stone stairs, crossing the balcony. She pushed open her bedroom door then stepped inside. Cassandra watched for a moment as her husband slept, his face pale and hollow. Then he opened his eyes to dim slits. “Cassa,” he breathed.

She ran across the room, kneeling on the bed and burying her sobs against his chest. Matthew wrapped his arm around her weakly. “Cassa, do not cry.”

“Please do not leave me,” she whimpered.

“I must, my love. I do not want to. I want to stay with you, to love you. But I have no choice.”

Cassandra looked into his eyes, her own swollen. She pulled from his arm then rose to her feet. She crossed to the cradle and picked up the velvet blanket nestled within. She stepped to the balcony rail, draping the blanket across her arms and stretching them to the star filled sky.

Closing her eyes, she began to chant. The words commanded a shower of golden sparks from the sky. When they subsided, she wrapped the blanket around a bundle in her arms.

Cassandra turned to Matthew, crossing to her side of the bed. She held her arms to him as she bowed her head. “Your son, my lord.”

Matthew gazed at the sleeping infant sucking contently on his fist. “Oh, Cassa. He is beautiful.”

She gently laid the baby against Matthew’s arm then wrapped hers beneath his for support. Matthew cradled the child to his chest, his pride and his heart break equally evident on his face.

“You need to name him,” Cassandra urged.

Matthew stared at his son. “Samuel. After your father.”

Cassandra smiled through her tears. “Then Samuel it will be.”

Matthew cuddled his child close to him for several moments. Then, he suddenly spoke, “Cassa, take him. My arm grows weak, and I do not want to drop him.”

Cassandra took Samuel from Matthew and laid him on the mattress between them. Lying across the pillows, she wrapped her arms around Matthew’s neck. “Please, do not go,” she begged.

“Cassa,” he rebuked in a whisper.

“Then let me go with you. I will stay by your side.”

Matthew took her hand and held it tight. “No, Cassa. Who would care for Samuel? He needs you.”

“But—”

Matthew touched Cassandra’s face. “I will wait for you. It will not be long before you join me. Please, though, give me one last wish?”

“Anything.”

Matthew smiled through his pain. “Lay down beside me. I want to leave this world at peace, and I know no greater peace than watching you sleep. Please?”

Cassandra looked into Matthew’s eyes as she palmed his cheek. “I love you, Matthew, more than my life, more than my son. I am blessed we had a son because he will be the only child from my womb. No other man could possess my heart. You possess my mind, my body, my heart, and my soul, both now and forever. I love you my lord, my husband. I love you.”

She pressed her lips to his, feeling them grow cold. “Good night, Matthew.”

“Good night, Cassa.”

Cassandra slid down as her eyes etched Matthew one last time into her memory. Before long, the events of the day overwhelmed her and she drifted off to sleep.