Chapter 14

As Gisla had predicted she was better the next morning. In many ways she wished she could stay in bed. She could feel that a change had taken place somewhere, somehow, even though she had not left her chambers in days.

She arrived at breakfast a little earlier than she usually did, though she was still late. She moved to the place she intended to sit and her husband stood up to greet her. He then stretched out his hand and offered her something across the table. It was a small clump of purple flowers. He gave her a broad smile as if encouraging her to take it.

All the blood in her body seemed to rush to her face and she froze for a moment. What should she do? She couldn't just remain frozen there like a half-wit. She reached out her hand to accept them and he pressed them into her palm. Though his hand seemed to linger near hers where it made contact. Upon noticing this she jerked her hand back as if she had been burned. Who was he to think he had the right to touch her so?

She then noticed how abrupt her motion must have seemed to those around her.

"Thank you." She mumbled. Gisla had lost some of her will to insult him ever since she had learned that he could at least understand some Frankish. She supposed it was not right for her to be too angry. He only seemed to want her to feel better. Suddenly she noticed how her father's gaze lingered on her and she sat down in a panic and wished she could disappear from the room entirely.

The meal seemed to pass at an erratic pace. Time seemed to slow as her father watched her as if expecting something, and then it would seem to speed up when her eyes would accidently meet her husbands. At certain parts of the meal she would ask her husband to pass her things and he would oblige. This caused her heart to leap into her throat. There was something very tangible about him now, like he was no longer simply an object to be laughed at or ignored. It was no longer so easy for her to think of him as something less than human now that he knew her words.

When the meal was over Rollo and Gisla rose from the table at the same time. The corner of her husband's mouth twitched up and he looked at her with an eager almost childlike face. She hated that he did this; it was almost like he was viewing a part of her that she wished to keep hidden. She reached for the flowers he had given her and was about to leave the room in haste when her father stopped her.

"My daughter, I would like for you to stay and speak with me after the meal."

"Yes, father." She said with a curt nod and then sat back down.

Her husband returned to the table and began to take his seat before Charles spoke up.

"It is alright Duke Rollo. You do not need to stay here. Go to tend to your lessons the words I have our only for Gisla."

Her husband glanced between the two of them until his eyes caught on Gisla. It was almost as if he was asking for her permission to leave as well. As if he wanted to tell her that he would stay with her if she wished.

"You may leave now…Rollo." She told him, adding his name on to the end for it no longer seemed fit to not address him.

He gave her one last concerned glance as if giving her time to be sure enough.

She could not help but give him the faintest of smiles, "It is alright," she reassured him, "you may go."

A small smile crossed his face as well and he nodded in acknowledgment and left.

Charles waited until Rollo was well out of the room before he began to speak to Gisla. "My daughter I wish to know if your opinion of your husband is still unchanged? I have been informed that he has paid you visits lately."

Gisla's heart dropped for a moment. The idea of her father talking behind her back was an uncomfortable truth. She picked her words carefully before answering, "I suppose he is not quite as bad as I first thought, and perhaps he could be a help in defending the city." She glanced back down to her wine glass and took a sip.

"So you still desire to divorce him?"

Gisla knew this question was coming and tried to conceal any emotion on her face, "Yes, but perhaps we could find him another woman to be his wife. He may not have to leave the city."

Charles sighed in annoyance, "Oh my daughter, do you not know that there are so many worse men to marry? Men who do not follow the rule of thumb. Men who would never be so patient with you."

"I just admitted that I did not think he was a bad man! I simply do not wish to be married to–"

Charles held up a hand to silence her, "Do you know what he asked the first morning you were missing?"

"He spoke?"

"Yes," Charles said, and then glance up wistfully, "he used his stumbling, childish words to ask where you were."


Rollo was overcome by the feeling of gaiety within him. It had been so long since he last felt this way. Scores of years must have passed since he felt so youthful.

Gisla's opinion of him was changing. And not just the opinion she held of the man in the night; the one of the true him, Rollo the Northman. There was still hope for him. His step held a certain lightness to it as he walked into Abbot Lupus' chambers.

"Are there some good tidings I do not know about?" The old man asked with a smile.

"Yes, Gisla is warming to me."