Gorlan Fief
3 Years Before The Rebellion
Lady Angelica was 18 on her wedding night. Her parents had been trying, unsuccessfully, for two years now to see her married into a well to do family, one with enough power to bring them into the heights of society. And now, it seemed, they had finally done it.
The Baron Morgarath was a good fit for their daughter, the knight's lady had commented one night before the wedding. Angelica was headstrong and smart, as this Baron was. No matter his age. Their daughter was full grown. She had to continue the family legacy.
Angelica, on the other hand, looked at this marriage as a trap. One meant to bring down her naturally free spirit and make her into a proper Lady. This man's titles and lands was just another bonus to her parents. Her stomach was in knots, not only in fear of the wedding but if the future that surely was to come. Her mother had told her what happened between a man and a woman on the wedding bed, and that scared her most of all.
She didn't feel ready, or at least ready enough to lay in a wedding bed.
The day of celebration passed quickly, too quickly it seemed. As what had happened in the wedding bed.
And now, she lay awake, one thick, white blanket her only real protection against the chill of the night air. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes, and pain. That's all she knew at that moment. Pain, aching in her joints and...
She didn't want to think about it.
Carefully rising, careful not to disturb the man sleeping next to her, she pulled a thin sheet off of the bed and stood, almost limping her way over to the fire. It must have been relit after the Baron had fallen asleep, as it burned eagerly, its flames an orange color.
She carefully sat, watching the fire. It was warmer here, and in the dim light, she could see bruises and markings on her legs and arms.
Oh, Gods above, she thought to herself. This had been nothing like what her mother had described. This had been worse. Even worse, was the fact that he'd told her he'd wanted an heir from her.
The thought drew a sharp, soft, grunt of pain and misery from her. She'd expected it, of course. But hearing it still had made her blood turn ice cold, and her stomach drop. This was not the man her father had described to her.
And there was something else. Underneath the calm he'd shown earlier in the day, there seemed to be an anger as well. Anger evident in the frown he'd worn when she talked to knightly friends who'd made their way to wish her well. Knights that she'd made friends with when she'd arrived.
There was the sound of movement from the bed, and then footsteps. A hand went to her shoulder, and she froze.
"I didn't mean to wake you," she said.
Morgarath didn't say anything to that, just offered his hand to bring her to her feet, and suddenly, Angelica knew that this was going to be a late night.
"Now, its all about you," the man said. She hid a shudder and smiled calmly at him as she took his hand and stood. Yes, she thought to herself as she was lead back to bed, this is going to be a very long, painful night.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading The Lady of Great Virtue. I apologize for the awkwardness at some points, but this will hopefully be the last time I have to write something like this.
Again, thank you for reading!