Jasper assembled the Council of Nobles in the Great Hall. He informed the nobles in advance that, in a couple of days, they would have to meet together in the room. Finally, that day came.
While Jasper and a few other significant individuals, like Meg, Mieczysław, and Guy, sat by the long table in the middle of the room, the rest sat on chairs which formed a semi-circle around the table. Everyone was garbed in their best attire. Meg wore a striking, silk, sky-blue dress with long, transparent sleeves and a shiny golden belt wrapped around her waist. Atop her head was a headband embellished with light blue flowers, forming a contrast with her long dark curls. Her cheeks had been dusted with a light blue powder. Indeed, she was so beautiful that when she was walking down the stairs, holding her brother's arm, Guy blinked twice at the sight of her. He blushed afterwards and allowed himself to smile at her, but Meg did not notice him. She was busy holding onto her dress, which was so long it covered her feet. She dared not risk tripping and stumbling down the stairs with her brother.
Meg was seated next to Guy, but she did not look at him. She was holding onto the handles of her chair, trembling as if afraid. Guy guessed it was because Meg had to make a speech in front of everyone, but since she was Meg, he had to consider the possibility that her scruples were tormenting her about something. The latter was the most probable of reasons behind her uneasiness.
At the beginning of the Council, Jasper introduced Meg and Mieczysław to the noblemen who hadn't yet been introduced to them and briefly explained their cause as to why they were in England. Some of the men released gaps of surprise. Foreigners ruling Nottingham? Such an idea was unheard of at that time, at least according to their ears.
Then, Jasper went off on a tangent about the history of England, particularly Nottingham, which was a required subject to talk about when assembling an important meeting. As he was going on and on, boring the majority of nobles in the room, as they knew the history by heart, Guy couldn't help but notice that Meg and Mieczysław, who sat next to each other, were frowning and avoiding eye contact with each other. They crossed their arms, as if they had fought and decided to give one another the silent treatment. Meg rolled her eyes when Jasper bade Mieczysław to arise and speak. She resisted the urge to make the sourest face in existence when her brother started talking about the role as Sheriff. For some reason, no one but Guy detected the antagonism emanating from the twins. Why, he wondered, could he only see the evident animosity between the two?
Then, Meg looked as if she wanted to murder her brother when he finished his speech by saying: "However, I want my sister to be the next Sheriff, as she deserves that opportunity. I only ask that I be her advisor."
Meg bit her lower lip and squeezed the handles of her chair like lemons. She heard a cracking sound. She looked down and a crack, however inconspicuous, appeared on one of the handles. Some of the men cast weird glances at her, but Meg released her grip on the handles and smoothed the creases on her dress, acting as if she did not damage her chair out of irascibility.
Jasper was saying something which sounded like he agreed with whatever Mieczysław was saying. Meg was too frustrated to hear exactly what he said. However, she was forced out of her irritation when Jasper bade her to stand up.
"Lady Dunajski," he said. "I hope I pronounced your last name well."
"Yes, you did," Meg said, forcing herself to a smile.
"Good. May I first commence by saying that you look gorgeous today? Like an ocean goddess, no doubt!"
Some of the people rolled their eyes. If they had a coin for every time Jasper complimented Meg, they would be wealthier than Prince John.
Meg chuckled. "Thank you, Lord Jasper."
"Now, I could only imagine that you and your brother travelled a long and perilous journey to our country," said Jasper.
"Only two months, devoid of any grave dangers. I thank Saint Christopher that we were blessed with a safe journey to England," Meg said.
"I'm glad to hear that. The Council and I would like to hear the full story about the reasons behind your travelling here to become the next Sheriff of Nottingham. How do you, a woman, and especially a foreign woman, propose on accomplishing such a difficult feat?"
Meg cleared her throat and held her head high. She rehearsed this speech many times over. She firmly decided in the end that her choice of words was good, and that nothing bad or objectionable was contained in her speech. Now was not the time for her scruples to interfere in something so important. Meg suppressed them, despite mental anguish pounding her like a hammer hitting a nail against a block of wood. Ignoring them was painful, but feeling the pain was nothing new to her. It was a 'friend' making its frequent 'visits' to her to see 'how she was doing'.
"Unfortunately, this year in May, our good King and High Duke of Poland, Casimir the Second, passed away. Poland is in a state of great bereavement, as they are left without a ruler. His oldest son and heir, Leszek, is but a child, not old and mature enough to become king. There is a lack of a good connection between Poland and England. Therefore, my brother and I want to create a durable relationship between the two countries. Poland is strong; England is strong. If we unify our nations, we could be mighty and invincible. None of our adversaries would dare touch us. Instead, they would cower at our amalgamation.
"To carry out this plan, either I will marry an English nobleman, or my brother will marry an English noblewoman. We are the gentry, or the szlachta, as we call it in our native tongue. We are here to serve as a bridge between the two countries. Do consider my proposal. This unification would prove ideal, especially if I get elected the next Sheriff of Nottingham. The power that I would gain as a result of being the Sheriff would be used as a tool to combining the two countries into one, great, unstoppable realm.
"In addition to everything I have just mentioned, I would like to point out something interesting and perhaps beneficial to my plan of unification. In Poland, we do things differently, and I'm sure that in England, you do things differently as well. We both have different traditions and customs. We could introduce each other to those unique traditions and customs.
"I sense disapproval from many of you here. You are all probably thinking: she's a woman and a foreigner; ergo she should not be the Sheriff. Do you deny having those thoughts? Trust me, a few weeks have passed since my arrival, and already I have been assailed with ridicule because of my sex and nationality and overwhelmed with competition from other rivals, but I am Polish, which means that I am adamant. Once my mind is set on doing something, I will do it, one way or another. It takes a great deal to persuade me to change my course. I will become the next Sheriff of Nottingham, doing whatever it takes, even suffering contempt and ridicule from others, to gain that power and the glory that comes with it."
After Meg finished her speech, a long silence filled the room. She spoke with such force and authority that she could have gained everyone's vote. Some of the noblemen even whispered amongst themselves that they were open to at least reflecting on her words.
Meg still held her head up, pleased with herself, that her speech was having a persuasive effect on some of the people. She felt her face turn red. She had not done such a powerful speech in a long time. Back in King Casmir II's court, she seldom had any opportunities to be authoritative in anything, since her brother, father, and even her mother had more influence in the royal court than she did.
Guy arose from his seat and started clapping his hands.
"I am with Lady Dunajski," he stated. A few other noblemen, including Mieczysław and Jasper, followed Guy's example and stood by Meg.
A wave of gratitude rushed over Meg. Not only was she thankful for her new supporters, but also she was thankful for Guy. His support for her strengthened her resolve to reignite the friendship they had in the past.
However, one elderly nobleman, more gaudily dressed than the others, irately arose from his seat.
"This is preposterous!" he shouted. "Who is she to force her customs and traditions down our throats? I will not permit our ancient English customs to be sullied by her retrograde Polish ones. I vehemently disapprove of the idea of a woman, especially a foreign one, ruling over Nottingham. I would say that her brother should be the Sheriff, but he, like his sister, has foreign blood. Neither he nor she should take over. Instead, they should just return from to the country from whence they originated."
Meg gnawed at her lower lip to prevent herself from yelling at the man and reprimanding him for his backward thinking.
Mieczysław turned red at the nobleman's offensive words and slammed his fists on the table. "You pigheaded, pompous prat! Hateful toward foreigners, are you, now?"
Everyone, especially Jasper and Guy, was taken aback at Mieczysław's sudden outburst of ire. Meg only closed her eyes in embarrassment. She lost count of how many times her brother lost his cool in general.
"You and your sister are so alike," the nobleman continued, unfazed by Mieczysław. "Not just with the looks, but also with the attitude, the hot temper. That instantly makes you and your sister unfit for political positions in Nottingham. Hot-bloodedness is forbidden in our court."
"The last Sheriff was notorious for his hot-bloodedness, yet you all seemed to have accepted him," Mieczysław countered, his anger ascending instead of descending.
"At least he was not a foreigner," the nobleman spat.
Mieczysław gasped in horror and retaliated by shouting something in Polish. Meg had to cover her ears.
"You do not want to know what I just said about you," her brother said with a sneer.
Jasper stepped in and waved his arms around. "I command both of you to stop your bickering and swearing! Look at yourselves. You sound like two little boys fighting over a toy. You should be ashamed of your immaturity. Is this how a dignified nobleman should act? Keep your horrible words to yourselves. I adjourn this meeting until next time, where you will learn how to be civil with each other." He waved his hands to the exit, as if he were chasing away houseflies. "Shoo! I don't you here. Not when you're the ones being hot-blooded. In fact, I don't want anyone here."
When everyone got up and dispersed, murmuring amongst themselves about the 'drama' which just took place, Jasper stopped Meg as she was leaving.
"My lady," he said, handing her a stack of papers. "Please do me a favor and give this to Guy. I forgot to give it to him on his way out."
Meg took the papers. "I'm sorry about my brother," she said. "He's a good man, I can assure you, but he has his flaws, a hot temper being one of them."
"And I'm sorry about Lord Brian," Jasper replied. "He's the sort of person who despises change and is hostile toward new ideas. You better watch out for him."
"I must think positively, and my brain tells me to prohibit the opinions of one person, however rancorous, to affect me."
"I like that. Shows you are unwavering. Rest assured you have my support."
"Thank you. I greatly appreciate that. I thought that the majority of men would oppose to my running for Sheriff, but it seems to be the opposite."
"You have both beauty and brains, my lady!"
Meg chuckled. "You're too kind, Lord Jasper. Now I will deliver these papers to Guy."
"Before you leave, I have one question: didn't you and Guy have a thing in the past? I've been hearing from some castle gossipers that you and he used to court each other."
"That's ancient history. Why do you inquire?"
"Mere curiosity, my lady." He bowed his head. "I must leave now. Good day."
In Guy's bedchambers
Guy sat by his desk, writing a letter. But he was mainly concentrating on the events earlier that day during the Council of Nobles. She was so beautiful, he thought, as well as steadfast and intelligent. The way she spoke and the words she used, he admitted, had some powerful effect over him. Now he hoped she would win the elections. It would be interesting to have Meg take the reins of authority and introduce some new things. That would surely make her happy. If only, however, her brother would not ruin anything for her. Guy was wary of her brother, thinking he was up to no good, which would explain the reason behind the bad blood between the twins. But Guy could only guess why they suddenly hated each other.
The brother was the least of her concerns. Lord Brian openly expressed contempt for Meg and her 'retrograde Polish customs'. He couldn't forget about the acrimonious argument between Brian and Mieczysław. Guy was glad it did not escalate into something more violent. The hostility would be a lot for Meg to handle, but somehow Guy believed she would succeed. She was adamant and confident.
He heard someone knocking on the door.
"Come in," he said, not looking up.
He didn't notice that Meg was in the room until she walked to his desk. He immediately stood up.
"Meg," he said, bowing his head.
Meg handed him the papers. "Jasper asked me to give them to you. He forgot to do so."
Guy took the papers and placed them on his desk. "Tell him I thank him."
Meg nodded but she did not leave. Her conscience, however scrupulous, she admitted, had some good things to say from time to time. This time it told her to say the words she had been meaning to say since she was in Locksley. She took a deep breath and plucked up the courage to blurt out:
"Guy, I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I shouldn't have been so cold and harsh toward you. I know better, but I can't help but think about the gravity of my actions. Can we start over?"
"What?" It wasn't that he misheard her; it was that he couldn't believe what she was saying.
Her hands were shaking as she was making her apology. Guy gently reached for them and held them, as he saw that Meg was getting worked up. He could tell from her face that her emotions were begging to be burst like a bubble.
"It's all right, Meg. Calm down," he said. He gestured to a chair next to his. "Would you like something to drink?"
"Water, please," Meg croaked, her face turning red as she seated herself.
Guy sat down next to her and reached for the jug and goblet on his desk. He filled the cup with water and handed it to Meg.
"Is everything all right?" he asked. "You're hands are still shaking. You're tense."
Meg took a few slow gulps of her beverage and placed the goblet down. "I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down, as if she was unworthy to look at Guy. "My scruples…there's a lot going on. They make everything so difficult. And no one understands what I'm going through. Oh, Boże, why am I starting to cry? You can't see me like this."
"What is causing you so much distress?"
"I don't know. Everything, I suppose!" Her voice was on the verge of breaking. She drew a couple of deep breaths.
"I want to help you, Meg. Really, I do. Do you trust me?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Yes. No. I don't know. Why do you even care?"
She looked at Guy when she asked him that question.
"Because," Guy said, placing his hand over hers, "I'm sorry for the way I treated you in the past. I can't help but think about the gravity of my actions. Like you, I want to start over as well. This time, there will be neither lies nor secrecy."
Meg sniffled. "Don't do this out of desperation. I beg of you."
"I am not doing this out of desperation. Desperation has nothing to do with this."
"Do you swear on your mother's grave?"
"Yes. I swear on my mother's grave."
Meg smiled. "I forgive you, Guy. I hope you can forgive me, too."
"Of course I do. Forgive and forget, as the saying goes."
Meg looked down and sighed. This was the final straw. She had to muster the courage to tell him about her suffering. And if she was going to tell him, she was going to tell him to his face. This was a new start, after all, a second chance.
Meg looked at Guy again and squeezed her grip on Guy's hand.
"My scruples are destroying my life. I can't do anything about them. They are the reason why I am the way I am. They have become a vital part of my life, like I can't breathe without them. Every time I tell myself that nothing is going on and that everything is fine, I feel attacked. A moment of tranquility never lasts long for me. It's like it's a bad thing if I ignore my worries, or if I feel peace for even a moment. I have to find something to worry about because, whether I like it or not, I need to be anxious about something. I can't enjoy something without feeling dreadful. And I hate that. I hate that with every fiber of my being. My conscience is constantly erroneous in judgement, but I can't fight it. It hurts to do so. I oftentimes I succumb to my scruples, because giving in to them is less painful than resisting them.
"I hate the confusion. I hate the fact that my conscience goes back and forth on things, that it confuses me with: it was wrong; no, it was fine; it wasn't a grave matter; it surely was a grave matter; it wasn't a sin; it was a sin; God loves you; God hates you. I don't know what to think anymore! It sounds ridiculous, I know. That's why only a few are aware of my suffering. Anyone else would think I'm a madwoman."
"I don't think you're a madwoman. Far from that," Guy said.
"Then what do you think of me?"
"You are a normal person. Like every other normal person, you have difficulties to deal with."
"But normal people aren't scrupulous, emotional, and fickle at the same time! Do not tell anyone about this. If anyone else were to find out that I am a madwoman, I will have no chance at succeeding in life."
"You are not a madwoman," Guy said firmly.
"But I worry about harmless, innocent things that are far from being bad. How is that not crazy?"
"I know you can overcome it. I saw you today at the Council. You were free of worries."
"That's because I suppressed them with every bit of strength I had."
"So, the fact that you were victorious for that one moment means there's hope."
"People just say: get over it. But it's easier said than done. I don't think there's a cure. It has been going on two years. I've lost the patience. I've been praying so hard for guidance, but I don't know where that guidance is."
"I can help you. Do you trust me?"
"How could you help me?"
"My mother used to say: keeping busy is the best remedy for an anxious mind. We can do something together."
"Are you seriously willing to commit to this friendship? I have to warn you, I can be unbearable at times."
"If that means reconciling with you, then yes."
Meg smiled warmly. This man, probably one of the most lax men in existence, wanted to be friends with her. Even from the beginning he tried to reach her, but she pushed him away.
"I trust you," she said. "I truly want to rebuild our friendship. We forget about the past and start anew. I only ask that you be patient with me."
"Of course," Guy said eagerly.
"What have you got in mind? How could we spend time together?"
"We could ride together. I could show you the surrounding countryside as a start."
"That sounds lovely."
Meg rose from her seat, Guy following suit. Then, she hugged him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"Thank you, Guy," she said, looking up at him.
Guy stiffened at this sudden move of Meg's, but he slowly relaxed and wrapped an arm around her. His free hand stroked her hair. He saw that Meg felt comfortable around him. It was like old times, but since so much had changed, Guy feared that it would never be like the old times.
Author's note: Being Polish myself, I can attest to the fact that Polish people are some of the most stubborn people on the planet!