Chapter 21
The days that followed the departure of the king and prince were heavy with tension and fear. It seemed that no one spoke in the castle, for there was a strange hush hanging about it that was very different from the normal bustle and noise. Not only was the normal noise absent, so was the presence of the normal crowd of people. The only chamber that ever seemed to house more than a few people at a time during those days was the chapel. Servants, peasants, and nobility alike spent hour after hour kneeling on the chapel floor, fervently praying for the safe return of the king and, as a consequence, for a return to the normal order of things in the kingdom.
Keelin was very often among those who spent their days in the chapel. She and the other sewing women had found themselves without employment, which was exactly the opposite of what Keelin would have wished. While she did not necessarily enjoy long hours spent stitching war banners or ball gowns, she certainly did not look forward to the indolence that had followed the departure of the king. All was seriousness in the kingdom now and so the services of the sewing women were not wanted. The people were certainly too busy praying and fearing to even entertain the idea of a ball or even of a new everyday gown.
When she was not in the chapel, Keelin spent long hours wandering through the forest, hoping for some sense of comfort and security. Her solitary ramblings frequently took her to the sites that had been the former scenes of meetings between her and the prince. She would sit for hours on end in these spots, replaying every last moment of the meeting in her mind. She would dwell on every word, every expression of the prince in those moments, causing her heart to ache until she felt as if it would burst. Now that he was gone, she could not help but wonder if perhaps she should not have kept her feelings concealed from him. She honestly believed that she had done the best possible thing for his sake and for the kingdom's sake, but she could not stop the selfish little voices that told her that she should have thought of doing only what was best for her own sake. What if she should lose him before she had ever had the chance to express what she felt for him? The thought was almost too painful to bear. It filled Keelin with a sense of loss that was astounding in its acuteness. She had never felt such a sense of emptiness and sorrow, not even when her parents and her kind mistress and master had died. It drove her to the brink of despair.
Even though she was deeply distracted by the agitated state of her emotions, Keelin could not help but notice that Alinda was acting a little strangely. Keelin found her friend studying her intently several times, as if Alinda were concentrating on Keelin with all her might in the hopes that she might be able to read Keelin's feelings. In fact, her gaze became so penetrating that it began to make Keelin uncomfortable.
"The absence of the prince troubles you deeply," Alinda said to her suddenly, two days after the departure of the king. They were alone in the sewing women's sleeping chambers, each apparently lost in her own thoughts and fears before Alinda had spoken.
"Does it not trouble everyone deeply?" Keelin asked, attempting to modulate her voice as her heart leap in fear. She thought fearfully of the possibility that Alinda had somehow discovered something of the depth of Keelin's relationship with the prince. She pressed her hand against her heart, feeling the ring dig into her skin.
"Certainly it does. One need not even say so. However, you seem to feel it most acutely."
Keelin felt herself go cold with fear and she struggled to keep her words even as she spoke. "Have you any doubt that I do? How can I not feel some sense of responsibility for what has occurred thus far? 'Twas because of me that the former earl was banished from the kingdom and 'tis because of me that His Majesty must now fear war with France."
"I understand your thoughts, but you cannot mean to place so much responsibility on yourself. Surely you know that His Majesty feared a possible war with France long before the former earl's banishment."
Keelin relaxed a little at her friend's words. They did make her feel somewhat better. "I suppose that is true," she said.
"Of course it is," Alinda answered, somewhat sharply. "Everyone in the kingdom knows it."
Keelin colored deeply, her hand rubbing nervously at her chest. "I suppose you think that I am assigning myself a greater degree of importance than I truly possess."
Alinda gave her friend a tired smile. "I am sorry, Keelin, 'tis simply that I too feel quite on edge."
"Of course," Keelin answered quickly, smiling back at her friend.
"I am sorry if I injured you somehow. I did not mean to do so. Please forgive me," Alinda said. She walked over to Keelin and folded her in a sisterly embrace.
"There is nothing to forgive," Keelin said, embracing her friend in return and feeling an enormous sense of relief.
Alinda suddenly withdrew from Keelin's embrace and looked at her friend with a startled expression. "What is that?" she asked, looking down at the bodice of Keelin's dress.
"What is what?" Keelin asked, truly alarmed. She feared that the ring had somehow slipped out of the neckline of her dress and that Alinda had caught sight of it. She glanced down but did not see anything.
"I felt something hard press into me when I embraced you," Alinda said, studying her friend somewhat suspiciously.
"I am sure 'twas nothing more than the boning under my gown," Keelin said, trying to suppress her panic.
"I suppose. I imagine it must be too tight for you."
"Why should you say that?" Keelin asked, feeling truly confused.
"You are always rubbing or pressing your hand about your heart. I have often wondered why you were doing so. I can help you to fix your garments, if you need my help."
"Nay, 'tis nothing," Keelin protested, laughing nervously. "'Tis merely that I am so worried. 'Tis no more than an uneasy gesture."
Alinda studied her doubtfully. "If you say so," she said, "although I am quite certain that I felt something jab into me when I embraced you."
Keelin took firm command of her emotions, determined not to let Alinda's questions compromise her composure any further. "It must have been your imagination," she said.
Alinda sighed. "I suppose it possible. It has been running quite wild these last two days."
Keelin breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I am certain you are not the only one in the kingdom who is suffering from such a problem."
"Certainly not," Alinda answered stoutly. "I am certain that my imaginings are nothing at all. I certainly cannot feel the agitation that Her Majesty must be feeling at this time. I wonder how I should feel were my husband and son both to quit me to face such danger."
"Indeed, I am certain that none of us may possibly comprehend the state of Her Majesty's feelings," Keelin said, with real sympathy. "Our concerns must be nothing to hers."
"That is just what I think," Alinda agreed. She seemed to be on the verge of saying more, but was interrupted by the entrance of a fellow sewing woman, who came to ask them if they were coming to dine. Keelin could not regret the interruption as Alinda's powers of perception were proving to be a source of great discomfort.
The dinners of the last few days had been unnaturally quiet. Hardly anyone spoke and when they did so, it was usually in a whisper accompanied by a look of strain on the speaker's face. No one could speak of anything other than the king and prince's dangerous journey and most everyone was afraid of speaking of it lest they say something to jinx it. Superstition was running high throughout the kingdom. Keelin frequently saw servants walking about the castle with small bags of herbs or various other charms that had been "guaranteed" to bring about the safe return of King Arthur and Prince Rhain. Keelin did not buy into such superstitious beliefs, but she supposed that even if the charms and bags of herbs did not guarantee the safe return of the king and prince, at least they gave some peace of mind to their bearers. She personally preferred to find her solace in aimless ramblings through the forest.
In spite of all the good the forest did her, by providing her with very happy and tender memories, Keelin's mind was not completely tranquil. She had a premonition that something terrible would occur in Germany, but she tried to push it out of her mind, tried to tell herself that it was merely the workings of her overactive imagination. Still, any little bit of sleep that she did manage to get was filled with dreams of a confrontation with Mordrid, a confrontation that, curiously, seemed to also involve her. She tried to tell herself that her dreams made her feelings all the more ridiculous, considering that she was safe inside the walls of the castle and if Mordrid were anywhere, he was certainly too far away to get at her, but she could not shake her feeling of uneasiness.
When the dinner had ended, Keelin was once again eager to escape to the tranquility of the forest, but Alinda stopped her.
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Alinda asked Keelin.
For some reason, Keelin did not feel inclined to tell her friend about her ramblings through the forest. It was almost as if she feared that telling another soul of them would somehow ruin the preciousness of what she had shared with the prince within its green embrace.
"I was merely off to our chamber," Keelin lied.
"I thought you were about to disappear for hours, as you often do," Alinda said, taking Keelin by the arm and asking her in a light manner, "Where is it that you go when you disappear?"
"I hardly know myself," Keelin replied, vaguely. "I seem to wander every last corridor in the castle. The exercise helps me to free myself from my thoughts, at least for a time."
"You may always talk to me if you wish to free yourself from your thoughts. 'Tis very likely that they plague you as they do because you do not share them with anyone."
Keelin wished that Alinda would not be so persistent. As kind as her offer was, it only made Keelin increasingly uncomfortable as Alinda pursued the issue.
"Nay, I would not share them with anyone for the world," Keelin said. "They are most idle and not even worth speaking of, even to such a friend as you."
"I must venture to guess that I should not think so if you were to reveal them to me. Still, I can force no confidence with you and if you truly feel that it would not be of aide to you to speak of your thoughts with me, then you should keep them to yourself."
"And that is just what I shall do," Keelin said, ending the conversation at that point. "How is it that you spend your days?"
"I am nearly always in the company of the other women. We try to find whatever scrap of work we may. I do not think it well for us to fall into idleness while Their Majesties' are away. Undoubtedly they will return and then there will be much work for us once again, as the castle returns to its normal routine of balls and wars."
"You may be right," Keelin said, with a sigh. She felt her conscience twinge at Alinda's words. She had not set foot in the sewing chamber once during the course of the past few days. She certainly did not want to grow lazy. "I had best join you all on the morrow. I have been very lax in my duties, I am afraid. I am grown very idle indeed."
"Aye, I think it well that you intend to join us. You would not want to lose your skill with the needle for then what would you do for yourself?"
Keelin glanced at her friend out of the corner of her eye, wondering if there was something behind Alinda's remark, if there was an implication of Keelin's wishing to marry the prince. Alinda's face was perfectly blank and tranquil, however, and Keelin was once again angry with herself for being so paranoid.
"I hardly know," Keelin replied. "I can only say that I certainly would not wish to rejoin the kitchen staff. I am certain that if they ever saw me again they would put me in the cauldron and boil me for dinner."
Alinda made a horrible face at the remark. "Pray, Keelin, do not say such things. What an unappetizing thought!"
"And I suppose that you can only be disturbed at my remark because of the prospect of such an unappetizing meal, not because you are disturbed at the possibility of my being boiled alive by the kitchen servants," Keelin said, unable to resist teasing her friend.
"I work very hard indeed!" Alinda exclaimed. "I deserve the comfort of a good meal at the end of the day."
"I thank you for your great friendship," Keelin said, with mock solemnity.
The two women smiled at one another and Keelin felt a great sense of relief in the easing of the tension between them and at the easing of the tension in her in general. It felt good to smile. In fact, it felt so good that she began to think that perhaps all of her fears had been idle. How was she to know that things would not go completely smoothly in Germany? Perhaps only good would come of this meeting. In fact, Keelin now found herself determined to fix on this more positive frame of mind. All would be well, she was now certain of it.
