Antoinette had to give it to the girl, it took her time to recover from sadness, but once she did, there was very little that could stop her. Slowly the girl forced herself out of the depressive state she had been.
Antoinette had been very surprised to find Christine dressed when she had brought in her dinner. (Meg being confined to her room while Antoinette decided a punishment.) True, the clothes were simple, peasants clothing. But she was dressed, all the same.
She had stared down at the platter of food that Lady Giry brought her, then slowly picked up her knife and spoon and began to eat the spiced chicken drizzled with sauce.
Antoinette had watched her as she went around the room, doing the small tasks that Meg would do.
Christine managed half the chicken, and nearly three quarters of the stew and dark bread that she seemed so fond of. Then her hands went to her lap, and she requested that the food would be taken away.
The next day the maid that had brought Christine breakfast reported that she had not been dressed, and Antoinette's heart sank. But when lunch was brought she had put on clothes.
Nadir fretted just as much about Erik, who apparently had been even more withdrawn and sullen since the death of the child.
The girl, Abigail. Antoinette didn't approve of naming still borns, but one didn't argue with the Duke of the Black Lands.
And then there was Meg. Still confined to her room, Antoinette didn't know what had come over Meg, or what to do about it. She had never made such an infraction before, and yet this one was so severe, Antoinette would have given five lashes to anyone else.
And yet Meg was already sorrowful, having cried her way through the night and begging to be allowed to apologize the next morning. Her guilt was sincere, Antoinette thought she knew her daughter well enough for that, but that did not exclude one from punishment.
Nadir was undecided as well. Antoinette suspected that if it had been one of the boys, he would have suggested the lashes right in that moment. But with his precious daughter…
"Isn't it a little harsh?" He would venture meekly.
"She's sturdy enough. Not some little slip of a girl that would perish at the touch of a whip." Antoinette had spat back.
And then he had taken her into her arms, silly man, his arms rubbing her back in comfort. He always seemed to know what she needed. They both knew that if it had been any other Lord, any other lady, Meg would have been cast into prison. Perhaps for the rest of her life. They were lucky they had such kind masters who could forgive such an outburst.
Eventually, they decided to dock her pay for the time being, as well as giving her the job of cleaning the entrails from around the castle.
When Antoinette related this news to Christine the next morning, she shrugged.
"Do what you will." She said, stirring her bowl of oatmeal slowly. "I don't want to think of it."
"She's very sorry for what you did, you know." Antoinette said slowly. "She wants you to know that she apologizes."
Christine nodded. "It's alright, she has been good to me. I forgive her." She gave a short laugh. "In a way, it is what broke me out of my sorrow. Without her, you might have not spoken to me."
"No one deserves to be woken in such a rude and cruel way." Antoinette said firmly. "Now, do you want my help getting dressed?"
Christine looked up? "Would you? I- I simply don't have the energy to put on my better clothes."
"Or to lace your shoes?" Antoinette questioned.
"They no longer fit." Admitted Christine. "My wooden ones do, I used to stuff them before putting them on, they were second hand." She said.
Antoinette raised an eyebrow, and went into the lavatory, carefully she took an under dress and an over dress that she knew had been altered to fit Christine. She also pulled out a pair of hose.
While searching in a trunk for a headcloth, she came across the fine silk that His Grace had bought Christine, it's golden threads still glimmering as ever against the red.
Antoinette pushed it under the head clothes again. The silk would not be used, Christine would not be going to court that year.
Antoinette spoke of small pieces of news about the outside castle while she helped Christine dress, combed her hair and helped braid the wild stuff so that the head cloth could be pinned neatly into place.
Afterwards, Christine sat in her chair, thanked her and looked out the window in the sea.
The next day, Antoinette helped her dress again after breakfast. When they finished, Christine mused that she should walk around the grounds that day.
She did not accomplish that until two days after that. But then she went walking every afternoon, before sitting down for lunch. She commented how three months of bedrest had greatly weakened her.
A week after that, Meg was allowed to return to her original position. She cried as she begged forgiveness from Christine. Antoinette hadn't told her she had already been forgiven, it would be better if Christine said it.
Christine forgave her. Of course she did.
The next day, when Lady Giry brought out her lunch, she could not find Christine. Some inquiry found that she had gone riding with Meg.
When she returned, both her and her horse were sweating and panting. Meg rode behind her, in an only slightly less worse state.
Christine passed the horse along to the stable boy and headed to the bath house. Lady Giry was already hastening for servants to heat water for her Grace, Meg not far behind her.
She did not emerge from her bed the next morning. Her legs ached from the ride, and she could barely walk. Instead, she worked at her embroidery and listened to Meg reading to her. When she could bear to ride, she went out again, only to spend three more days in bed, her legs rebelling with much exercise.
It was then Lady Giry decided to pay Christine another visit. "I know what I said, Christine." She warned her. "But you mustn't push yourself so hard."
Christine shrugged. "I like riding, I like the wind in my face. It makes the pain easier."
Lady Giry frowned. "I wouldn't recommend riding for so long. Perhaps we ought to set a time limit?"
Meg, who sat in the corner nodded. "I think so as well, at least until she recovers. Perhaps we ought to set it for an hour a day? I think that would allow her the exercise she needs, but would not strain her."
Lady Giry nodded, then turned to Christine. "Is this reasonable to you?"
Christine shrugged again. "I suppose."
"I expect Meg to manage this." Lady Giry said simply, nodding to Christine.
This worked tolerably well, though Meg often struggled to keep up with Christine, wildly flailing arms and pointing towards the castle got the point across.
The hour rides worked well, and after three or so weeks, they allowed her to ride longer. Soon, she was riding as long as she could before the birth.
This came just in time for spring, green grass peaking between the brown. Tiny sprigs of flowers bloomed between the dark rocks of the Black Lands. Lady Giry ordered Meg to pick them by the dozens and to put them all over Christine's room.
One afternoon, after a long ride home, His Grace picked a batch of lilies for Christine. Her eyes lit up and glittered with tears. But she only pressed kisses against Erik's jawline when he tried to comfort her.
This comforted Lady Giry, for she wasn't quite sure how they had been getting on. She knew they took dinner together, rather than breakfast as they did before. But other than that she had been in the dark about their relationship.
She was glad they seemed to be healing as well.
Not long after that, they began taking dinner with the rest of the court again. Now Lady Giry was able to observe them, and she noticed the little signs of love between them that she had seen before. His Grace carefully serving Christine the finest of portions, calling servants to be sure her glass was never empty. In return Christine gave him gentle touches on his hand and knowing looks.
Meg noted that they were sharing beds again. The news spread throughout the castle, hope spreading for a new child, an heir.
Lady Giry doubt His Grace and Christine had jumped to that, but it was certainly a good sign in more ways than one.
For one, the servants no longer hated Christine. Many of them had been in the room during her outburst, and their rumors had thoroughly overturned the raging tales of a scheming harlot. In addition, he then publicly said that he had chosen her because he loved her, because she was good and kind, and that she had been an excellent stand in mistress of the Valerious household. These things combined with the threat that whosoever tormented his wife again would have their hand cut off, shut down any last stragglers determined to bully her. That had been done the day after the birth of the child.
It was lucky Christine had not heard that, though no doubt she felt its effects.
And so Lady Giry continued in the management of the castle, pleased with the growth and recovery of its occupants. Until one day in May, when Christine asked very specially to meet with Lady Giry in private.
Aaaaaaand that's a wrap. I originally intended to do more chapters on Christine's recovery, but that just bogged stuff down too much. I do believe we are now tilting towards the other half of the book. In fact, I do believe we only have one last major conflict to overcome after the next chapter. (Wonder what those are going to entail? *wiggles eyebrows* Any guesses?)
Hopefully this recovery felt realistic. Lemme know if I botched anything. I always imagined Christine as the type to just keep chugging along, she's a hard worker and she pushes herself and thus recovers pretty steadily. I don't want to set up any false ideas about how long it takes to recover from a miscarriage. I suspect it's a highly individual matter. Luckily for people today, we have stuff like, therapy and drugs to help with crazy after pregnancy hormones. Christine does... not.
Anyhoo! Thanks for reading this chapter! Hope ya'lls have a great day!
Reviews make authors happy. :)
