Chapter 20

Rollo woke with his arms tangled around and her head resting on his shoulder. And for the first time in a long time he felt like he belonged somewhere, and that place was here. He wanted to wake up like this tomorrow, and the day after that, and every day for the rest of his life. He knew he could be happy here.

In the faint morning light, he could see that Gisla was slightly more disheveled than she usually was when she woke. And he could not help but feel a slight satisfaction at the idea that he was the reason for this. It felt good to know that she was his wife in truth now and even she couldn't deny it. He was happy that she had chosen this; she had chosen him.

He wondered for a moment if he should kiss her awake and let her see who she had been sharing a bed with all this time, but decided against it. While it would be amusing, he did not want to startle her. He wanted the revelation to be soft and sweet, like the night they had shared before.

He smiled to himself as he began to come up with a plan. He would leave and go pick muguet. When he returned he would wake her. And when she woke up she would see the connection between now and all the nights that had passed before. And he would remind her that he had always loved her even from the beginning, and she would come to accept him as her true husband.

Rollo climbed out of bed and began to dress in the clothes he had abandoned on the floor. He stole one last glance at her before leaving, his mind full of visions of his triumphant return. He could almost hear the shocked gasps the servants who found them. His lip twitched up when he realized that perhaps she would allow him to spend the whole day in bed with her. And they could fill the day with soft caresses and other things.

"You have gone too far this time." A shrill voice said, tearing Gisla from sleep.

A sudden chill ran through her body. She was naked, alone in bed, and knew that something had gone very wrong.

"And with a Prince of the Church under the same roof as you. Have you no shame," the matron snapped at her.

Gisla clutched the bedsheets to her chest and sat up to confront her accuser. She tried to form some kind of lie to explain the problem away, but when she looked around the room she realized that that would not be possible. She was surrounded by the damning evidence.

Her nightgown was abandoned on the floor, the pillow next to her was dented with the imprint of another head, and worst of all a small stain of blood could be seen on the sheets.

Gisla felt a cold sweat cover her as she realized what she had done and what she would have to answer for.

"Well, do you have an explanation?"

Gisla tried to collect her thoughts, but all words seemed to escape her.

"No," she finally whispered.

"As I thought," the old woman retorted. "Elinor find a simple black dress for Gisla to wear. Nothing beaded or embellished. Have her ready as soon as you can. It is time for her to answer for the wicked things she has done.

Rollo returned to her room later than he had wanted. The muguet in the spot where he usually picked it seemed wilted and not as fresh as he would have liked it. It took longer than he expected to find more. He had then stopped several more times as he found other flowers he wanted to add. He selected large lilies, the symbol of Frankish nobility, and small purple flowers similar to the ones back in Kattegat. He wanted all of these to be included in the bouquet he would give her.

The sun was well into the sky by the time he was finally ready to return. It was not so early that she would have gone to the morning meal, but he was sure that some of her women would be in the room. Rollo felt slightly annoyed that already things were not going as he planned.

When he came back to her room it was empty with no one inside. The room felt eerily deserted and he began to notice that things were amiss. The curtains were not opened and the bed was not made. Even in Rollo's room servants were sent to do these things, he could not understand why they would not do them for a princess. He looked around the room for any other sign of what had happened and noticed that the bottom sheet of the bed had been removed completely. His stomach sank he knew this meant something, but he did not know what.

He left her room and began to walk to the dining room. Perhaps she was only there and he was concerning himself over nothing. As he walked he could not help but notice how every servant seemed to whisper as he walked by. This had not happened in weeks. He had become a common sight to them and he knew they were speaking of more than him being a foreign invader.

As he rounded a corner he came face to face with Count Odo. The fat man gave him a nervous smile and began to speak. "Ah, Duke Rollo, I have been searching for you. Something has happened and you need to come with me."

Gisla stood shaking in the antechamber to her father's throne room. She had never been more terrified in her life, and her father's words were doing little to comfort her.

"Who was this man Gisla? You must tell me, if only for your own sake. The Papal Envoy has heard of what has happened and is far from pleased with what has happened."

Charles's voice shook as he spoke and Gisla was equal parts terrified and disgusted by her father's fear.

"I do not know his name father," she answered truthfully.

Charles let out a sigh a disappointment, "Now is not the time to protect him. Tell me something, anything."

The room seemed to spin around Gisla as she tried to come to terms with what she had done. He had been so soft and gentle with her the night before, but all his words were lies. He had told her that everything would be alright, that the love between them was all that mattered. None of this was true.

"I cannot tell you what I do not know."

"Please Gisla, tell me what you know of him so that I can have some answers for these men. They are far from pleased with you. They think your request for a divorce was a form of mockery against the Holy Church. I want to be able to explain this away. I will talk of secret marriages or how you could not bear the idea of not being with a Christian, but I cannot do any of this if I do not know his name. My daughter, I fear that they wish to punish you most severely."

Gisla saw the panic in her father's eyes and looked away. She knew that she may be guilty of many things, but cowardice would not be one of them.

"So be it," she answered and then opened the door to the outer room.