Chapter 17
Rollo went to Gisla's chambers again that night. He wondered how she would receive him after today's events. He had not meant for any of this to happen to her. In fact, when he realized that he had left his tunic behind he had hoped for a brief moment that she would solve the mystery herself and come to accept him. None of that had happened though and in some ways he was glad. She was not ready to know that it was him yet. He learned this when she cringed at the mere sight of him in the garden. But she was closer to accepting him. She had allowed him to sit with her, to be near her, to comfort her. And when he spoke to her in his language she did not act repulsed, instead she listened. And even though she did not understand anything he said he told her once again that she was his wife and that he would not let any harm come to her.
He had stayed true to his promise and as soon as he had left her in the garden went back to Abbot Lupus and demanded to know the full extent of what had happened. When he was told he insisted that nothing of the sort ever happen to Gisla again. The abbot tried to explain that any punishment she faced she deserved, for adultery was a grave sin. Rollo had an inspired thought and answered back that since he was Gisla's husband it was a sin against him, and so he should get to decide if Gisla was punished or not. Lupus seemed pleased that Rollo had been paying attention to his religious lessons after all. Rollo did not know why. He did not mind learning about Christianity, he sometimes even found it interesting. But what the abbot failed to notice is that Rollo did not believe any of these new teachings.
With the help of Abbot Lupus, Rollo successfully relayed a message to Emperor Charles that he was not pleased about what had happened to Gisla. The Emperor was apparently frightened of the idea that he had upset Rollo. It disgusted Rollo further that the man was such a coward. The man was weakling and would have never been able to distress Gisla if he were not her own father. Rollo was then sent assurances that nothing would happen to Gisla without his consent and felt relief.
However, Gisla was not present at dinner which worried him. He saw that a platter of food was put together and sent to her. He feared she might grow ill from weeping.
He could hear her crying as he entered the room. It was so very much like the first night he had come to her. Only this time he was not entirely blameless for her tears. He moved to his side of the bed and began to climb in when his hand brushed up against something metal. It was the platter he had sent her. It was still heavy and full of food. He doubted that she had eaten any of it.
The noise he made moving the tray stirred Gisla from her crying. She gave a loud sniff and then said, "You must leave. It is not safe for you to stay here this night."
She choked the words out through her tears and Rollo did not have the heart to tease her. "Oh, and why is that," he asked sincerely.
"Because he is coming."
"Who?"
"My husband."
Rollo felt his heart falter. She was still afraid of him. He must have only imagined that she felt otherwise.
"And you are still afraid of him?" He wanted to hear her thoughts, though he was afraid that he already knew the answer.
"I– No. I am not afraid of him. It is not that." Rollo felt his spirits lift at her words. She was not afraid. He had not deceived himself about this. "My father is having him sent here tonight to finish the marriage."
For once it felt like it was Gisla who was speaking in riddles. She said that she was not afraid of him, yet in her next breath she seemed upset that he was coming.
"Are you upset that you will have to stay married to him? Is that why you were crying?"
"No, I was not upset over that. Not truly I do not think."
Her words puzzled him. "I do not understand what you mean."
Gisla let out a sigh. "It is hard to explain. I have come to the conclusion that my husband is not the worst sort of man to be married to. But this is still not the way I wished for things to be. I had always hoped to have a choice. But none of these things were the reason I was crying."
He climbed into the bed and sat next to her, "What was the reason then?"
"It is none of your concern," she answered in a stilted voice.
"Is it because of your father?"
She gasped as if someone had just pressed on a fresh wound. She did not speak for a moment and Rollo was sure she was thinking of a new insult to use against him.
He was wrong. Instead she broke into a new round of tears and she whispered, "Yes."
Rollo moved to be closer to her, and drew her up so that she could sit next to him and lean against the headboard. She did not know it, but when he placed his arm around her they were sitting in the same way as they had in the garden hours earlier.
She rested her head against his chest and began to cry harder. "I do not think that my father loves me," she wailed.
Rollo moved his hand up to stroke her hair, but could find no words to say. He agreed with her.
He let her cry for a time and then spoke, "Gisla all this weeping will make you ill. Stop for a moment and have something to eat."
"I am not hungry," she muttered.
"That does not matter. Eat something anyway." He reached for the food on the tray. He was pleased that the first thing his hand touched were the two plumbs he had put on the plate. He had chosen them carefully and both were so plump and ripe that the thin skin of the fruit was about to burst.
"Here eat this," he said, and pressed the fruit into her hands.
"I do not want it. Here, you have it."
"No, I already have one. There were two. One for you and one for me. Just put it to your nose and smell it. You will see how sweet it is."
"I am not hungry," she insisted.
"It is sweet enough to make you hungry."
He could almost sense her rolling her eyes in the darkness.
"Very well," she finally agreed.
He heard her take a bite, followed quickly by a second and a third one.
He smiled to himself, pleased with the progress. He then coaxed her into eating some of the sweet bread, and salted meats. These were all of his favorite foods to eat, and he was sure they would help her feel better. Food could sometimes be the best sort of comfort.
After she had eaten she seemed quieted and content, and Rollo wished he would have been able to make her feel this way on the first night that they were married. He had only ever wanted her to know that she was his wife, and that he would look after her.
He helped clear the dishes and food from the bed and then climbed back in under the covers. She moved towards him and tangled her arms around him. It was fierce and possessive embrace, and he loved the feeling of being so wanted. They fell asleep in each other's arms and Rollo had never been more pleased.
Some time in the night Rollo felt light fingers running across his face again. Each stroke carefully running over each of his features.
"Gisla?" He questioned into the night.
He heard her gasp and withdraw her hand.
"Do you still not know who I am?"
"No," Gisla answered with a hint of sadness. "Though I think I am close. I just need a few more hints."
"Oh, what kind of hint do you need?"
"I need to know who you are."
"That is not a hint," Rollo said, and then rolled away and pretended to go back to sleep.
She let out an angered huff, "I have known you for so long. I think I should have a right to know by now."
"You do not have a right. I have already told you that you must guess who I am. Besides have you ever asked, instead of trying to be sly and discover on your own."
"I have asked! And all you told me is that you are a very strong and important man."
Memories of their first nights together came flooding back to him. He had forgotten that she once did ask who he was. "I think those should be good enough hints of who I am. They are very distinct."
"No they are not distinct. I search for you each day and do not find you."
"Then you should look harder. I am often in plain sight."
"That cannot be, I would know you then. Please just give me some small sign, I will recognize you then I am sure."
She sounded desperate to Rollo and he wondered if perhaps he had waited long enough.
He gave a deep sigh, "I have something I can give to you, but you must give me a promise of equal weight."
"What sort of promise could that be?"
"A promise that if I give it to you it is entirely up to you to recognize me and not the other way around. I have helped you enough. I will give it to you in good faith that you will know me as well as I know you."
"That does not sound like too much of a pledge to make."
"But it is. For you have failed to recognize me day after day, and week after week."
"Maybe I have, but I am sure with some small sign I will know who you are. I agree to your promise."
"Then take this. It is my greatest treasure, and the ring I have sworn all my oaths on. Take it as a sign that I love and care for you."
She held out her hand and waited for a ring to be placed around her finger, but instead a large bracelet encompassed her hand and slid over her wrist.
"It is quite heavy," Gisla said, not knowing what else to say.
"Can the brave Princess of Paris not lift it?"
"Yes, I can lift it," She said and then gently slapped his arm with the hand he had placed the ring on. "You are so impossible I should not even care who you are. You are nothing but trouble."
"If that is how you feel," he said, and then reached around her wrist to grab the bracelet from her. Gisla was able to snag the ring with her fingers before he was able to take it away.
"What? I thought you said you didn't want it," he said and gave the ring a playful tug.
"I did not say that! Why must you always misunderstand me? Besides, you promised."
"I suppose I did," he said. And then let go of the ring so that it fell around he wrist again.
He felt her move around slightly, and thought that she was perhaps moving the ring up her arm so that it was under he sleeve and he could not snatch it again. She then turned her back to him and muttered, "You are such an exhausting person."
"Is it not a good thing to be tired at night?"
"Perhaps," she whispered and then moved back so that her body was pressed against his.
Rollo woke and felt content. His arm was wrapped around Gisla's waist and his nose was touching the nape of her neck. He felt warm and well rested, and he could not help but notice that her hair smelled nice. It was a small thing, but why should he not enjoy it?
He wished he could stay with her, but day was about to break and he thought it would be best to be gone before anyone saw him.
He untangled his arm from around her and she began to stir.
"Stay with me." She called to him, still half asleep.
A smile tugged at his lips. She must have no idea how much the idea tempted him. "No, it was only last night that we agreed that it would be you who found me and not the other way around."
Gisla rolled over and mumbled into her pillow, "What difference does it make? That was so long ago."
He laughed. "It was only a few hours ago. You did promise."
"Just a few moments, please," she said reaching back to tug him closer.
He moved back and embraced her. Then placed a kiss on her cheek and then her lips. In that moment he swore he had never been more in love with any woman. "You are just trying to trick me into staying long enough to see me. Do not fret I will be back sooner than you think."
With that he pulled away and left the room.
