They had spoken but a few words to each other. As he trailed her around the castle, he couldn’t imagine living her life, often wishing he could take a dagger to his own throat, and it had only been three days.
Two cousins had visited her, and he’d watched as the princess’ gaze had glazed over as they’d chirped giddily about potential husbands. She’d sat passively as her lady’s maid showed her the finer tips of embroidery. She managed to read when she found time, and also spent long spells staring out the window completely motionless, as if she waited for her death to come galloping up on a large, black stallion.
In a way, he pitied her, but she was a princess and this was her life. She certainly had it better than the peasant women of the village, who he didn’t doubt wished they could be in her position.
When she stared out the window, deep in thought, happened to be his favorite time to study her. She held herself like a queen—back ramrod straight, her skirts the perfect length as they skimmed the floor. Some days, she wore gowns of bright, vibrant fabrics that accentuated her bosom. Other times, she dressed in drab colors and styles, almost as if she mourned a death.
Today, as she stood by the window in her solar, her gaze had been trained on the garden for what seemed like hours. Although the flowers stood in full-bloom, he couldn’t imagine her appreciating their beauty for such a long period of time. Perhaps she didn’t even see them as she delved so deep into her own thoughts.
He leaned against the wall on the other side of the room, to her left. As the rays of the sun filtered through the window and hit her hair, he noticed a bit of purple in the dark strands.
“You do not speak often.”
Her voice startled him, and he stood up straight as she looked over her shoulder and trained her gaze on him.
“Neither do you, Princess.”
She sighed and studied her hands, then walked over to the two high-back chairs set up for conversing, her skirts rustling around her ankles. “Sir Jayden, please come sit with me.”
He moved into her direct line of sight. “That would be inappropriate, Princess.”
She rolled her eyes. “The only one who will ever care is my father, and he left before daybreak to see his mistress in Hanover.”
Surprise rolled through him and he arched his eyebrow. He didn’t know the prince held a mistress, but Jayden had always wondered why the man had never remarried after the death of his wife.
“Yes. She is a single noble lady, a widow, whom my father took a liking to. They have been carrying on for nigh upon a decade. She never wanted to be a mother, but she does want to be queen, so she and my father wait in secret for my grandfather to die. I hope he outlives them both.”
She smiled demurely at him, and his heart clenched once again at her beauty. Frankly, he also found himself in a bit of shock at her revelation. He doubted the prince would find it amusing that his daughter would air his secret affairs.
“Now that you know a little gossip of the scandalous royal family, please, sit.”
She motioned to the chair to her left, and he sat down as she requested.
As she studied him, her gaze seemed to rake over every inch of his face, and he considered that mayhap, he had crumbs from his morning roll in his beard. Clearing his throat, he straightened his tunic and sat up a bit taller. For some reason, he did care what she thought of him.
Finally, she spoke. “When my father first gave you this ridiculous assignment, my intention was to ignore you, to pretend that you did not exist.”
He waited, uncertain how to respond.
“But, I have come to the conclusion that I cannot do that.”
He furrowed his brow. “And why is that, Princess?”
She leaned forward, eyes glittering with mischief, and he tried to ignore how the action gave him a better view of her décolletage.
“First, I would like you to call me Arabella, and I shall call you Jayden.”
“I cannot do that, Princess. It would be disrespectful.”
She sat upright and waved her hand in front of her face. “Nonsense. I am ordering you to do so. You cannot defy me.”
He exhaled and glanced about the room. If someone heard him uttering her given name, they might report it to her father … he could incur the wrath of the prince. However, he didn’t want to disappoint her. “I shall use your given name when I am certain we are alone, but at no other time.”
She grinned, seeming satisfied. “Very well. That is an excellent compromise. Now, as I was saying, I do find it hard to ignore you, Jayden.”
“And why is that?”
“You seem to try to make yourself as unassuming as possible, yet, I feel your stare upon me. At first, it troubled me, but now, I must admit that I enjoy it.”
Bloody hell. He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious, and shame and embarrassment burned in his cheeks. “I apologize, Princess.”
She arched an eyebrow at him.
“I apologize, Arabella.”
“Very good. Nonetheless, I have come to the conclusion that if we are to spend so much time together, we should become well-acquainted, and perhaps, even become friends.”
He sighed, having no notion of what he could possibly have in common with a princess.
“Please, do tell me about yourself.”
Jayden shrugged, feeling this conversation would be a waste of time, but pressed on anyway. “There is not much to tell, Princess. I am a knight. My duty is to serve my king, your grandfather.”
“And your father?”
“My father also served your grandfather, but he was killed in the battle of Bayton.”
She pursed her lips together and sadness washed through her dark gaze. “I am sorry to hear that. We were both young children then. It must have been difficult for you.”
Her words rang in his ears, and he heard the sympathy in them. “Aye, but he was a warrior, and he gave his life for his king. His death was a noble one.”
She nodded. “Your mother?”
“She was a servant, who passed away three years ago.”
Her eyes grew wide. “My mother died bringing me into the world. The maids raised me. What ailed your mother?”
He fondly recalled his mother’s smile and the way she’d gently squeezed his hand before closing her eyes, never to draw another breath. “The Black Death claimed her.”
She shook her head. “Aye. It has claimed many lives. You are very fortunate that you had the opportunity to know her.”
“Yes. I agree. She was a good woman.”
A few moments of silence passed, and he wondered what went through her head. Her brow furrowed as she gazed out into the gardens again, apparently deep in thought.
He cleared his throat, thinking the conversation had come to a standstill, and he grew a bit uncomfortable. He grasped for more words to say. “Were the maids good to you, Arabella?”
She turned her attention back to him. “Yes, they were. My needs were met, but they could never love me as my own mother would.”
“Mayhap not.”
“As you know, my father believes I am a bit peculiar because of it. What do you think?”
He shrugged. “I have not seen any behavior that would lead me to that conclusion.”
She giggled, and her smile caused his breath to catch in his throat as it seemed to make the room even brighter. It was a true smile and laugh, one straight from her heart, one he had not seen before. He felt for the first time he was seeing the real Arabella, not the princess who put on airs for those around her.
“Yes, things have been a bit too quiet lately. Perhaps we should fix that.”
He shook his head, not certain he wanted to know what her cure for boredom might be. Thus far, his assignment had been tedious, but simple, and he preferred it that way. “No, Arabella. Please, do not do anything that could land me in trouble with your father or the king.”
Her gaze bore into him as her smiled faded. “How old are you, Jayden?”
“I have just reached five and twenty.”
“And you are unwed.”
“Aye.”
“I am now ten and eight, and will be married soon—a union I do not want. It seems so unfair to me that I must bend to my father’s will. What do you think?”
“I am certain you will find a way to be happy in your marriage.”
She stared at him a long moment, the brightness in her eyes fading as fast as her smile. “I do not believe that to be true, Jayden. In fact, the whole idea of marriage frightens me to death.”