Chapter 21

Odo led Rollo to Charles' throne room. Behind the door, it seemed like Ragnarok itself had started. Priests dressed in assorted colors gathered in small groups to converse only to scatter again seconds later. Women on the side of the room openly wept. And in the center of the room spread across a table was Gisla's bedsheet.

Two Priest in the room moved towards the bedsheet and began to inspect what appeared to be a bloodstain. Suddenly it occurred to Rollo what was happening. He scanned the room in search of Gisla. Their eyes met at identical times, and she looked at him as if pleading for help.

That single look pierced him with a greater force than any arrow ever could. She knew that she could turn to him for protection. Wasn't that all he had ever wanted her to know? Didn't he tell her on their wedding night that she was his wife and that she shouldn't be afraid? Now he was the reason for all the trouble she was in. He knew that it was time to tell her.

He saw a priest move towards Gisla and a primitive rage began to fill him. He began to scream for everyone to get out. Every person in the room seemed to flinch at the sudden shout. When he saw that no one had moved though he screamed again. This time, a woman openly ran for the door and some of the men began to move towards the exit as well.

He overheard one priest suggest that perhaps he wished to beat her in private and that they should leave. Rollo screamed once more and the room emptied of everyone except for Gisla.

When he saw the large double doors fully close he turned back to Gisla. She was crying slightly and tears could be seen on her face. His mind could not help but recall the night of the wedding. Had anything changed since then? He was still yelling and she was still in weeping.

And yet, things had changed between them. He just wasn't sure exactly how.

He searched his mind for the words to say, but none would come. He didn't want this. He didn't want it to have to be an apology. He had worked so hard to get her to come to accept, and even love him. He stepped towards her and she stepped back. She was still afraid of him. All his mind could think of was how this was not the way he wanted it to be.

How looked down to the flowers he held in his hand. Half the flowers were missing petals or had broken stems, and he realized he must have accidentally gripped them too hard as he screamed. They looked as pathetic as he felt. But still, they were for her.

He stretched out his hand and offered them to her. When she saw the muguet she looked at him with an unspoken question. As if she hoped it was some kind of sign. She took the flowers from him but said nothing.

In that moment Rollo wanted to go back to when he had woken this morning. He should have kissed her awake like he first wanted to. He could have revealed the truth to her in a pleasant way. He wanted this marriage to be about them, not about treaties, politics, or religion. He had loved her from the first moment he saw her and he was going to make her happy. And telling her he had been deceiving her in a moment like this was not the way.

He turned away from Gils and walked towards the door. A small group of people, who had obviously been listening at the door, jumped back as it swung open. He shut the door behind him and took charge of the situation.

"You, over there," he said looking at a woman he often saw with Gisla, "take the princess back to her chambers and stay with her."

A small gasp ran through the audience, and one helpful man shouted, "He speaks!"

Rollo shook his head in confusion. He had been speaking the whole time, just not always in Frankish. "Yes, I can speak in your tongue now. Where is the Emperor and…um… the most important priest, I wish to show them the full extent of my new skill."

The Cardinal stepped forward from the crowd, and after a moment Charles did as well. The Emperor was visibly shaking as he moved towards Rollo.

The Cardinal began speaking as soon as Charles stood next to him, "You may annul the marriage now if you wish, or you can choose to punish her as your wife if you–"

Rollo held up a hand silencing the man, "I do not want her punished."

"Your Grace, the sheet alone is enough proof that she is guilty."

"And how would a man who is not allowed to lie with women know anything about that?"

The Cardinal went white in shock, and Rollo looked to Charles.

"She should not be punished because she has done nothing wrong."

"How can this be," Charles asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"I will tell you tomorrow morning, but until then I would like the princess left in her chambers until I can speak with her again."


Gisla sat near the fire but still felt cold. She had spent most of the day alone and in silence, left to reflect on her terrible actions. She could not fathom how she could have been so easily deceived. She knew that everyone despised her now and was unsure of how to change this.

She wished they would have told her what her punishment was immediately instead of making her wait. The endless possibilities of what they could do tormented her, and everyone lying to her did not help either. Adelaide had been sent into the chamber after Rollo left and the maid insisted that he had asked her to take her back to her chambers. It was a silly thing to say, only moment earlier everyone had heard him scream for everyone to leave in his own language. It simply was not possible for him to have said such a thing.

Gisla wished he could speak. She wished she could have told him what had happened, yet how could she even find the words to say. Her heart broke a little as she thought of him turning away and leaving her as she was forced to watch him walk away.

He was still being kind to her. He had sent food for her to eat again and had given her flowers. He was carrying them with him at the time, and only later did she realize he was going to give them to her over breakfast.

Her stomach twisted as she thought of how as he had picked flowers for her she was in bed with another man.

The sun began to sink in the sky and Gisla wished she could dissolve in the darkness around her. She knew no servants would be coming to help her get ready for bed and she began to do the best that she could by herself. To her shame, her nightgown was still on the floor from last night, and she moved to go pick it up.

As she lifted the nightgown the distinct sound of metal hitting stone caught her attention. She looked down to find the arm ring that the stranger had given her. Gisla succumbed to a fresh wave of tears as she looked at it. In all of her careful planning to find out his true identity she had forgotten how much she had wanted it to be him. She had wanted it to be Rollo.

Even last night when she had had her doubts a small part of her still had held this hope. He was so kind and gentle towards her. She had only wished she had seen this sooner before she had ruined everything.

Rollo had been so constant and patient with her. And the stranger had only abandoned her at first morning light. She realized she should have been more careful in who she had chosen. Her mind drifted back to the night of the wedding, and she could not help but wonder what her life would be like if she had let him finish the marriage.

If that had happened there would be no divorce or prying women. Her father would have been pleased with her. And she would have married a kind man. But how could she have known how kind he was at the time? Before the flowers, and the food, and the patience he had shown her. There was no way for her to have known any of this before it was too late. And yet the more she thought of what could have been the more she wanted it.

Gisla slipped out of her dress and into the nightgown from the night before. It was strange having no one to help her do this, but she supposed that she was no longer a princess and she would never be again. All those who looked upon her only saw a fallen woman.

She climbed into bed and curled into a ball. She wanted nothing more than for this day to be over.

A slight noise stirred her to wakefulness and Gisla realized that she must have drifted asleep. The idea of the stranger visiting again that night had not occurred to her. She has assumed that he had taken what he came for last night and would not return.

Gisla grew enraged at the idea that he would come back after all she had suffered through today and wished that she had a knife with her. If on any night she would be capable of murder it would be this one.

"Get out of my bed you miserable cretin," she hissed at him.

"Gisla–"

"No! Don't talk to me. You are nothing but a vile dog who has brought shame to me. You have done nothing but tell countless lies to me. And I have lost everything I hold dear because of you!" Much to her chagrin she began to cry as she said these things, she wanted to stay strong in front of him, but that seemed impossible.

"Do you still not know who I am?" There was no demand in his voice. He sounded almost like he pitied her.

"No!" She sobbed, "I thought I did. But I was very wrong and mistaken."

"What were you mistaken about?"

"I thought you were someone else! Someone who it would not be a sin to be with. Someone who it would not be wrong for me to love. I was mistaken, so very, very, mistaken."

His laugh broke through the stillness of the night.

"Don't laugh at me! Don't you dare laugh at me. I have suffered a thousand humiliations for your sake and I will not allow you to mock me."

His hand reached out and clasped hers. "Gisla, you know who I am."

"No, I do not! I just–"

A fierce kiss placed on her lips stopped her from speaking. "No. You know who I am. I am sure of it." He insisted. "Strike a light and see."

Panic mingled with yearning inside her. And she did not speak for a long moment as she thought of the words to say.

"What if I am wrong? What if I see who you are and it only proves my own ignorance," She said.

He placed a kiss on her cheek. "Shh, shh. Gisla, forget these wide-eyed fears. Light a candle."

Her whole frame shook as she rolled over to reach for the stone and flint at her bedside. She wished her hands would not tremble so. Twice she struck the stone and flint together, but the flame did not take.

"I cannot do this." She told him, her voice faint.

"I told you it will be all right, there is nothing to fear."

"No, I cannot get the candle to light. I have never done this before."

"Oh?" he said in amusement, "That is all right. Pass them here."

She pressed the candle and fire starters into his hand and felt her stomach drop inside her. The moment of truth had arrived.

"Close your eyes," he whispered to her.

She shut them tightly and waited.

She heard the stone and flint strike together, and from behind the veil of her eyelids could tell that light had entered the room.

Summoning up all her courage she lifted her eyelids open. The room was bathed in a golden glow like the most perfect of sunrises. And there in her bed was her husband.

"Je vous salue, sweet Gisla," He said taking her hand and placing a kiss upon it.