Chapter IV: The Prince-Bishop's Castle
To everyone's relief, the last part of their journey was uneventful and they could reach Aquileia without further threats, though Jacques remained ever vigilant, his eyes constantly scanning the landscape for any sign of danger. Despite the tension of the day, the companionship between him and Alisa provided a sense of ease. They spoke of lighter matters, of history and tales of the fief and their past experiences, and Jacques found himself genuinely enjoying her company. She was intelligent, strong, and carried herself with a dignity that commanded respect. More than that, though, she was becoming someone he could trust – not just as a leader, but as a person.
By the time they reached Aquileia, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. The ancient city, founded by the Romans as a colony and a military outpost against the barbarians threatening the eastern borders of Italy, loomed before them, its walls bathed in the warm glow of the dying light.
Before reaching it, Alisa led Fireflower nearer to Vaillant. "Jacques", she called, and when her captain turned his head, looking at her quizzically, she went on in a low voice. "I don't want those men staying unburied, serving as food for the forest's wild animals."
There was no need for her to specify whom she was referring to. Jacques nodded. "I understand, my lady. What do you suggest?"
"I will report the incident to Patriarch Philippe", said Alisa. "However, I will present them as highwaymen, not as hired mercenaries, keeping Bembo's name out as we have no proof except Mariano of Ortiga's word, and now he is dead."
Jacques pressed his lips together: unfortunately, Alisa was right, as they had no real proof for Bembo being the mastermind behind the ambush. "I agree", he said at length. "As long as we have no solid evidence, we cannot accuse that filthy scumbag." Realising he had used a somewhat uncouth way of speaking, he quickly apologised. "Forgive me for my language, my lady...!"
Alisa chuckled. "Never mind, Jacques... I heard worse from my armigers."
Of course, Jacques thought. He kept forgetting that she was no shy, delicate noblewoman blushing at the faintest hint of coarseness. Nonetheless, she was a lady and deserved the according civility; therefore, in the future he would guard his mouth in her presence. For now, he just nodded stiffly.
As they approached the Patriarch's castle, Jacques couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. The journey had been taxing, and the thought of rest and security, even if temporary, was a welcome one.
The castle gates opened to welcome them, and they were greeted by the Patriarch Philippe's servants.
"Two of my men are in need of medical treatment", Alisa told them. "Please see to it without delay."
Jacques noted that her first thought had been for her armigers, a further confirmation of how much she cared about her people, and of her kindness and generosity. She ruled with the power of love, not fear, something too many leaders didn't value or even understand. His respect for this so unusual woman grew even more.
He watched two menservants helping the armigers walk away; the efficiency with which the Patriarch's household operated reassured him that they were in good hands.
Patriarch Philippe himself arrived at that moment, a tall, imposing figure dressed in fine robes. His gaze was sharp but kind. "Welcome, Countess Alisa, Sir Jacques," he said warmly. "You are most welcome here."
He held out his hand for them to kiss his episcopal ring. Alisa bowed instead of curtseying, according to her male clothing, and complied; Jacques did as much.
"Thank you, Your Excellence", said Alisa.
"I have arranged for your quarters to be prepared, and baths have been drawn for you both", the Patriarch went on. "Lodgings for your armigers also have been prepared. Please, make yourselves comfortable after your long journey."
Jacques nodded gratefully, his body aching for the promised bath and rest, but kept silent, as it was Alisa's place to speak with their host.
"We are thankful for your hospitality, Your Excellence, and we appreciate it highly", she said. "However, before we go, we need to tell you about something very serious."
Philippe's faced showed immediate concern. "What is it, Lady Alisa?"
The countess turned to Jacques and signalled him to speak.
"We were waylaid in the Arvonchi Wood", he disclosed. "A dozen armed men, but luckily enough, we managed to defeat them."
"Good grace!" the Prince-Bishop cried. "I am so glad you could come away unscathed! Do you know who they were?"
"Nay", Jacques answered, keeping to what Alisa and he had agreed upon. "Probably rogue mercenaries."
"Pray, could you send your men there to recover the corpses to give them Christian burial?" Alisa intervened to avoid further questions.
"Your compassion and feeling of Christian charity are admirable, Lady Alisa", said Philippe, struck. "I will give the necessary instructions as to have it done at once tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Your Excellence", said Alisa, bowing her head in gratefulness.
The Prince-Bishop smiled, then he turned and gestured to a servant, who led Alisa and Jacques through the luxurious castle's grand halls to their chambers.
As they walked, Jacques' mind returned to Alisa's earlier words. The feeling she had described – the sense of having fought together before – stayed with him. There was something about their connection that felt natural, as if they were pieces of a puzzle that fit together seamlessly. It was an odd sensation, totally new to him, but not an unwelcome one.
The chambers that had been prepared for them were on the same wing of the grand mansion, on the same corridor but separated by several others. Alisa's was first, a maid standing next to the open door signalling her to enter. Hence, the countess nodded to Jacques, taking her leave, and followed the maid, while the French knight continued along the passageway, still led by the manservant.
The chamber Alisa had been given was as magnificent as the rest of the castle, with a huge canopied bed, a large closet for her clothes and a desk with a very comfortable-looking upholstered chair. However, Alisa was especially grateful for the bath that had been drawn for her and that allowed her to wash off the dirt and sweat of the ride, as well as soothe her tired limbs. The maid was also a skilled masseuse and gave Alisa a wonderfully relaxing massage, then thoroughly brushed her hair and styled it into a complex series of intertwining braids, giving it a very elegant look. Finally, the maid helped Alisa into one of the formal gowns the Countess had taken with her to attend the Prince-Bishop's court, readying her for the welcome banquet Philippe had ordered.
OOO
Meanwhile, in the privacy of his chamber, Jacques allowed himself to relax in the warmth of the bath that had been prepared for him. The heat of the water soothed his tired muscles, and he leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. His thoughts drifted to Alisa once more. She was different from any woman he had ever known: strong, independent, even fierce, and yet compassionate. He respected her deeply, and that respect was slowly evolving into something more. He wondered what this more could be, but it was still early to tell, and Jacques wasn't the kind of man to rush into anything. He was a knight first, with duties to fulfil and a past that weighed heavily on him. Still, the idea of finding a true friend in Alisa, perhaps even something more, was a thought that lingered at the edges of his mind.
Once he was elegantly dressed, as usual in black, Jacques made his way to the dining hall, where Patriarch Philippe awaited them for dinner. The hall was impressive, lit by candles and oil lamps, and in the large hearth crackled a tiny fire.
As he entered, Jacques saw Alisa already seated next to the Prince-Bishop; she looked refreshed and composed into her beautiful green gown. She smiled at him as he approached, and he felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the small fire.
The Patriarch was a gracious host, and the food was rich and plentiful, with game such as pheasant, deer and hare, served with several types of cooked and grilled vegetables. They didn't serve the Prosecco wine Alisa had brought though, because it needed rest and coolness, hence the barrel had been taken to the coldest cellar of the castle, where it would remain until the next evening. Instead, they had a richly flavoured and strong red wine.
The conversation was quiet, but interesting, as Philippe was a very cultured man, as well as a cunning politician. He told them that he was having trouble with the neighbouring town of Cividale, but he was confident he would overcome any possible menace they could throw at him.
As much as the conversation was interesting, though, Jacques found himself more focused on the woman seated next to him, her presence a constant reminder of the bond they were building. He realised that the camaraderie they were developing was something he valued deeply. Alisa was not just his employer; she was becoming a trusted ally, a friend. And perhaps, in time, she could become something more. For now, though, he was content to let things unfold naturally, allowing their connection to grow at its own pace.
As they dined, Alisa met Jacques' eyes several times, and each time, they shared a friendly smile. It felt so comforting to have again someone to rely on, Alisa reflected. Earlier it had been her father, but after his passing two years ago, she had been on her own carrying all the responsibility of the fief. She was strong enough, but sharing the load was heartening. It should have been Riccardo as her husband, she thought with quiet regret; but Jacques was proving to be a worthy substitute, a friend even, someone she could trust for support and loyalty, someone she felt safe around and knew she could share anything with.
Like she had felt with Riccardo, Alisa suddenly realised. The thought was warming, but slightly alarming too.
She stole a glance at Jacques, who was grinning at something funny Philippe had just said. She hadn't expected, even less planned, to grow attached to a man, after Riccardo. Was she ready for that? She didn't think so. And anyway, Jacques had clearly, and more than once, stated that he wasn't looking for any romantic involvement. Hence, better abandon that kind of thoughts, she concluded with a mental shrug.
Alisa refocused on the conversation, and the evening continued pleasantly.
OOO
The next morning, Alisa checked in on the injured armigers; she was glad to learn that their wounds had been tended to and that they would be perfectly able to return to duty within two days. This meant staying in Aquileia one day more than she had planned, but her men's health was important to her and Patriarch Philippe wouldn't surely mind to have them one day more.
She then took advantage of the local merchants and went looking for goods hardly to be found in Valdastico, such as fine velvet and trimmings for new gowns, furs of different animals, but also copper pots for the kitchen and silver cutlery, for which the Aquileian artisans were famous. Jacques, free of duties, accompanied her and enjoyed the bustling town, admiring its beautiful palaces and churches, and had fun at seeing Alisa bargaining fiercely with the various merchants, who too often made the mistake of underestimating her because she was a woman but soon found out how wrong they had been.
Evening came, and again, Jacques and Alisa dined with the Prince-Bishop. This time, to compliment the Prosecco, they had seafood of many kinds, the best the near Adriatic Sea could offer: mackerel, mullet, anchovy, octopus, crab and clam.
"Excellent indeed, my word!" exclaimed Philippe, putting down his second goblet of Prosecco. "Lady Alisa, if the price is honest, I will surely place a big order for your wine."
"Thank you, Your Excellence", Alisa said with a smile. "I'm glad you appreciate Valdastico's finest. As for the price, it depends on the quantity", she added grinning, always the businesswoman.
"Well, I need to speak to my steward before", said Philippe as a servant poured him more wine. "We'll discuss it tomorrow, aye?"
"That's fine", Alisa nodded, raising her goblet to him.
The Patriarch responded by rising his own goblet, and they drank, sealing their agreement in principle.
The evening progressed, and the conversation flowed as freely as the wine. Alisa, Philippe and Jacques shared stories, discussed matters of their estates, and laughed at anecdotes, each of them enjoying the rare chance to relax in suchrefined company.
The rich food and endless goblets of wine began to take their toll, though, and it wasn't long before Alisa began to feel the weight of the day's events – and the wine – settle upon her.
Jacques noticed her tired expression as she stifled a yawn, her usual sharpness softened by the alcohol. The concern he felt for her well-being earlier, during their journey, resurfaced instantly. He leaned closer to her, his voice low and gentle. "My lady, you look weary. Perhaps 'tis time to retire for the night."
Alisa, blinking sleepily, gave him a grateful smile. "I think you're right, Jacques. 'Tis been a long day."
Jacques rose from his seat, offering his hand to help her up. "Allow me to escort you to your chamber, my lady."
Alisa hesitated, glancing briefly at the Patriarch. Philippe, who was in high spirits, waved off any concerns with a broad smile. "Of course, of course! You should rest, my dear Lady Alisa. And Sir Jacques, please, see to it that your lady is well cared for."
A maid quickly appeared to assist, her presence a silent reassurance of propriety as Jacques gently helped Alisa to her feet. The three of them – Jacques, Alisa, and the maid – made their way out of the dining hall, leaving the Patriarch to enjoy the last of his wine.
In the corridor, the soft light of torches in their iron sconces cast long shadows along the stone walls. The echoes of their footsteps were the only sounds as they walked, Jacques moving with careful steadiness beside Alisa, who leaned on him slightly, her exhaustion evident. When they reached her chamber, Jacques paused, waiting as the maid opened the door and helped Alisa inside. He remained at the threshold, his hand still lingering on her arm.
"Thank you, Jacques," Alisa murmured, her voice tinged with the warmth of both the wine and the comfort of his support.
Jacques gave her a small nod, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Rest well, my lady."
With that, he stepped back, allowing the maid to close the door behind her. Now alone in the corridor, Jacques felt the full effect of the wine he had consumed hit him all at once. The walls around him seemed to tilt slightly, and he instinctively reached out to steady himself against the wall. His thoughts were muddled, his usual sharpness dulled by the alcohol.
Deciding he needed to sit down for a moment, Jacques spotted a bench along the corridor wall and made his way toward it. The bench was inviting, and without much thought, he sank onto it, intending to rest just for a moment before continuing to his own chamber. But as soon as he closed his eyes, the weight of the day and the haze of the wine pulled him into a deep, unintended slumber.
Time passed unnoticed as Jacques slept, his head resting against the stone wall behind him. The castle had grown quiet, the night deepening as the servants moved softly about their duties, none daring to rouse the sleeping French knight to help him to his chamber. As a result, he remained undisturbed, a solitary, slightly snoring figure in the dimly lit corridor.
Eventually, a few hours later, Jacques stirred awake. He blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to him. He groaned softly as a dull, throbbing headache reminded him of the excesses of the evening. The bench creaked as he pushed himself up on slightly wobbling knees, trying to regain his bearings. The corridor was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a single torch set into a nearby wall sconce.
Jacques swayed somewhat, his body protesting at the sudden movement. The headache pulsed quietly behind his eyes, and again he groaned softly, rubbing a hand across his face in a futile attempt to clear the lingering fog.
Feeling the need for the comfort of his bed, Jacques stumbled forward, his steps unsteady but determined. His own chamber wasn't far, and with a few clumsy turns, he found himself in front of his door. The latch clicked softly as he opened it, and he stepped into the quiet, dimly lit room.
A single candle on the bedside table cast a soft, flickering light across the space, creating shadows that danced on the walls. Jacques moved toward the four-poster bed, his hands fumbling with the fastenings of his tunic.
The room was dark, the shadows cast by the candle playing tricks on his weary mind. He barely registered the surroundings as he undressed, his thoughts too muddled to notice anything out of the ordinary. All he knew was that he needed to lie down, to sleep off the effects of the wine and the long day.
His fingers were sluggish, but he eventually managed to undress, shedding his clothes onto the floor in a careless heap.
The mattress was soft and welcoming as he collapsed onto it, pulling the covers over himself with a sigh of relief. The familiar comfort of a bed soothed his aching head, and he quickly drifted into the welcome embrace of sleep, the events of the day slipping away into the darkness of his dreams.
The room settled into silence once more, the soft flicker of the candle the only movement. Jacques' breathing deepened as he fell fast asleep, oblivious to his surroundings and the subtle details that might have given him pause had he been more alert.
In the stillness of the night, the faintest hint of a sweet, floral scent lingered in the air, but Jacques was too far gone to notice. He simply lay there, unaware, in a place that offered him a momentary refuge from the weight of the world.
And so, in the quiet of the night, Jacques slept soundly, undisturbed, and entirely unaware of the small but significant detail that would have surely startled him had he been more aware: the room he had stumbled into, half-asleep and weary, was not his own.
OOO
Alisa woke slowly up. Her brain was slightly clouded and her mouth mossy, reminding her of the generous amount of Prosecco she had had at dinner. She was used to heavy drinking – it couldn't be otherwise, as she had dealt with wine since a very young age– hence she was perfectly capable of holding her alcohol. Besides, the excellence of the wine that Valdastico's vineyards produced ensured that the hangover symptoms were significantly lighter than lesser quality wine would cause. Lighter, but not completely inexistent, she remembered, feeling her stomach churning with an excess of acid. Well, she would ask the castle apothecary for a remedy.
Alisa stirred and stretched her limbs. Opening wide her arms, her right hand bumped into something solid and warm. Surprised, she opened her eyes at once and, in the bright light of the still low sun shining through the window – which shutters the maid had forgotten to close the night before – she was met with the sight of a sleeping male face.
Jacques Le Gris.
Alisa's eyes widened in high shock. She scrambled hastily backwards, almost falling off the mattress.
What in the name of all saints was he doing in her bed?
She recalled what had happened the night before. After they had left the Grand Hall with Patriarch Philippe finishing off his last goblet, Jacques had helped her to her bedchamber. A maid had escorted them for decorum and appropriateness. Jacques had stopped at the bedchamber's door and taken his leave, while the maid had accompanied her inside and helped her take off her clothes, then lay down. Alisa was sure that Jacques hadn't set foot beyond the threshold. Or at least, she was sure enough.
So what was he doing, fast asleep under the same blanket with her?
A blanket that, she noticed as her eyes wandered down his long shape, had slid down to uncover his bare muscular chest. The thought that he was likely completely naked under that thin sheet, as people usually slept, made Alisa leap out of the bed. She checked herself, but her bare body showed no signs of a possible copulation, nor did she feel anything that could hint to any kind of inappropriate behaviour.
Hurriedly, Alisa grabbed her camisole and donned it, then her dressing gown to go over it.
Meanwhile, Jacques mumbled something in his sleep, then turned, his wide-shouldered back on her now.
Alisa couldn't help but stare. He was truly well-built, but then, this was unsurprising as he was a knight, used to train every day of his life. Nor was he the first half-naked man she had seen, she thought, fondly remembering Riccardo and their timid love-making after their betrothal. However, Jacques was a full-grown man, whereas Riccardo had barely left adolescence. It was like comparing a slender sapling to a sturdy oak. Inadvertently, her thoughts shifted toward impropriety: how would it feel to caress those broad shoulders while his muscular chest pressed against her breasts...?
Blushing furiously, Alisa shook her head as to clear her mind from her naughty thoughts. She inhaled deeply to steady herself and marched purposefully to the side of the bed where Jacques laid, oblivious to the world. "Jacques", she called him, but he didn't stir. "Jacques Le Gris! Wake up!" she tried again, louder. This time, he grumbled something unintelligible, but didn't move still.
Frustrated, Alisa placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a good shake.
Catching her off guard, Jacques, ever the wary warrior even in his slumber, sprang up in a sitting position, his stance rigid, his eyes alert, ready to face any possible danger.
Taken off guard, Alisa staggered one step back. "Whoa! Easy, Jacques, 'tis just me!" she exclaimed. "How on earth did you end up in my bed?"
Jacques' eyes widened at the sound of Alisa's voice, and for a moment, he was utterly disoriented. The sight of Alisa standing before him in just a dressing gown, her expression a mix of shock and confusion, jolted him fully awake. He gaped in complete shock; before he could even process the situation, he briefly took in her appearance: her hair slightly tousled, her face flushed from sleep, and her robe loosely draped over her frame. It was a sight that, under any other circumstances, might have drawn admiration, but right now, all it did was intensify his horror.
Realising the gravity of the situation, Jacques snapped out of his panicked state and abruptly turned his face away, covering his eyes with one hand while he rushed out of bed. But in his haste, he became hopelessly tangled in the sheets. He tried to move, but instead of a graceful escape, he ended up stumbling awkwardly, his feet catching in the fabric and sending him crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.
When Jacques had leapt from the bed in dismay, Alisa had quickly averted her eyes, in case he was fully undressed. However, when she heard him crashing to the floor, she looked again, fearing he had hurt himself.
"Mon Dieu!" Jacques groaned in French, more from embarrassment than pain, as he quickly tried to untangle himself from the sheets. At least, he noted with immense relief, he was still wearing his breeches – a small mercy that provided some semblance of dignity in this disastrous situation. Normally, he would have undressed completely, but his tiredness must have caused him to stop halfway.
Finally managing to extricate himself, Jacques scrambled to his feet, his back turned firmly toward Alisa. His face burned with mortification, and he could hardly bring himself to speak, his words stumbling out in a rush. "My lady, I... I don't know how this happened. I swear, I didn't mean... this wasn't... I mean, I would never..."
Alisa had moved to help Jacques, but he quickly managed to stand up on his own, hence she stopped in her tracks. He started to apologise, clearly very embarrassed and keeping his back to her to avoid looking at her as she was not properly dressed. This gave her ample time to watch his statuesque physique, which she couldn't help but admire.
Jacques took a deep breath, trying to gather his scattered thoughts, but his mind was a jumble of confusion and discomfiture. He ran a hand through his hair, still turned away from her as he continued to fumble for an explanation. "I must have... I was so tired, and the wine... I didn't realize... I must have come to the wrong room by mistake... I am so sorry, my lady, this is completely unacceptable..."
His voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words. Jacques was a knight, a man of honour, and this situation was the very definition of dishonour in his eyes. The thought that he had unwittingly invaded Alisa's privacy, even if unintentionally, was mortifying beyond belief.
As his ashamed apology continued, Alisa's own unease subsided. He was proving such a noble and thoughtful man that she couldn't possibly be mad at him for this very inappropriate situation.
He kept his back to her, hands clenched at his sides, as he forced himself to speak more clearly. "Please, my lady, forgive me. I assure you, nothing happened. I... I didn't even realise where I was until just now."
He cursed himself silently for his carelessness. The last thing he wanted was to cause any discomfort or distress to Alisa, especially after the bond they had begun to form. Yet here he was, having stumbled into her bedchamber like a drunken fool.
Taking another deep breath, he dared to glance over his shoulder, his face still flushed with embarrassment. "If... if you wish, I will leave immediately and... and find another place to stay, my lady. I can only beg your forgiveness for this... this mistake."
Jacques stood there, every muscle in his body tense, waiting for Alisa's response, feeling as though he had never been in a more compromising and humiliating situation in his entire life.
The more he spoke, the more Alisa felt reassured. She smiled softly. "I accept your apology, Jacques", she said in a comforting tone as soon he stopped speaking. "I am absolutely convinced of your integrity and that nothing improper happened. Besides, I would know: I may be an unmarried woman, but I am no naive maiden."
She couldn't hold back a soft chuckle. "However, mayhap you should get dressed, now. And leave as soon as possible."
Jacques still stood as if frozen, his heart pounding as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. Alisa's reassuring tone helped to steady him, but the embarrassment of the situation clung to him like a heavy cloak. He had never been more mortified in hislife, and the thought of having to leave her chambers without being seen only added to his anxiety.
As he hastily searched for his discarded tunic and put it on, Alisa walked to the door and cracked it open to peer along the hall. When Jacques would leave, they had to make sure nobody was there to see him and draw wrong conclusions.
A manservant was passing, so she quickly closed the door again.
Jacques tensed. He was desperate to escape this situation, but they both knew that being caught leaving her room could lead to damaging rumours that neither of them wanted.
"I'm presentable," Jacques muttered after he had hastily pulled on his tunic, his eyes still averted.
Alisa heard him and turned to him. Seeing that he was staring at the floor, she smiled softly. "Oh, you can look at me", she said, her tone lightening the mood. "I'm decent enough. After all we went through the other day, saving each other's lives, I hope you'll see me more as a friend rather than just as your lady employer."
Her words were kind, but they only deepened Jacques' sense of shame. He managed a brief nod, finally turning to face her, though his gaze didn't quite meet hers. "Thank you, my lady," he said softly, his voice still strained.
Alisa peeked out the door again, and when the hallway was clear, she motioned for Jacques to go. He hesitated for a split second, then quickly slipped out, moving as quietly as possible down the corridor, his heart hammering in his chest. The fear of being seen mingled with his still overwhelming embarrassment, making every step feel like a treacherous journey.
Once he was clear of Alisa's chambers, Jacques let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He made his way to his own room, his thoughts in turmoil. When he finally reached his quarters, he shut the door behind him and leaned against it, running a hand through his hair. The shame of what had happened – of his own carelessness – gnawed at him, and would do so for a long time.
OOO
Alisa watched Jacques exiting her bedchamber without another look at her, still deeply ashamed about what had happened. The heavy oak door closed behind him, but Alisa didn't move, staring at it with a sudden, inexplicable feeling of loss. The situation had been awkward, but it had somewhat felt good too. Slightly frowning at the unexpected recognition, Alisa walked over to the window and looked out over the roofs of Aquileia, to the blue sky where the sun had started to climb. She wondered about what had felt good. She already knew she felt completely safe around Jacques, aware that she had no need to be guarded in her speech or movements as not to be misjudged. She also already knew that he was a man of honour who would never take advantage of a woman, or any weaker person, or a fallen enemy. So what else could it be?
Then, suddenly, she got it: it had felt good waking up beside him. Not in a marital way, just the closeness, the safeness, the warming feeling to have someone near her, shattering the loneliness she felt since her father's passing. In a timeframe of less than ten years, she had lost all her most beloved ones: her betrothed, her mother, her father. She had no one else left in the world. Day by day, she buried her loneliness under her duties as the ruler of her fief, her love for archery, for dancing, for riding, but at the end of the day, she had to return to an empty bedroom, a cold bed. Sometimes, her strong will faltered, unable to keep at bay her sorrow and pain, and she cried herself to sleep. And every morning, she had to remember her sense of responsibility to find the strength to get up and start the day.
But not this morning. This morning, she had found Jacques lying next to her. And under the utter shock, she had felt good, safe... serene.
Was this what it would have felt like if she had married Riccardo? she wondered. Her chest tightened. Despite having overcome her sorrow, thinking at what they could have had together, at what could never be anymore, still saddened her.
A soft knock at the door roused her out of these melancholic thoughts.
"Who's there?" she asked, turning.
"'Tis Orsina, my lady", answered the maid who Patriarch Philippe had given her. "May I come in?"
Alisa gave a positive reply and soon, Orsina was helping her to prepare for breakfast.
OOO
The morning sun filtered through the high windows of the dining hall, casting a warm glow on the richly adorned table where Patriarch Philippe, Alisa and Jacques sat for breakfast. The air was filled with the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread, curedmeats, cheese and ripe fruits. Despite the sumptuous food spread before them, Jacques could hardly focus on it. His mind was still clouded with the events of the previous night, and he kept his gaze firmly on his plate, avoiding looking at Alisa.
The countess, instead, kept casting glances at Jacques; she felt sorry that he seemingly hadn't overcome his discomfiture, and was starting to worry that their friendship, which had started to build so well and had become deeper after they had faced battle together, would suffer from it, or worse, would shatter.
Patriarch Philippe, however, was in high spirits, completely oblivious to the tension simmering between his two guests. He chattered on cheerfully, his voice full of enthusiasm as he discussed a wide range of topics. "Did you know," he said, slicing into a piece of cheese with gusto, "that the Aquileian artisans are known for their exceptional metalwork? We've had a surge in demand for our silverware – remarkable craftsmanship, really. I'm thinking of commissioning a new set of chalices for the cathedral, something truly magnificent to reflect the glory of the Church."
He didn't notice the strained expressions on Alisa and Jacques' faces as he continued unperturbed. "And speaking of the cathedral, we're planning a grand festival in a few months to celebrate the feast of Saint Mark. 'Tis going to be quite the event: pilgrims from all over will come to Aquileia. You should both attend! It would be an excellent opportunity for trade, Lady Alisa. Many merchants will be there, and your Prosecco would be a fine addition to the festivities."
Alisa managed a polite smile, her mind clearly elsewhere, but Philippe remained undeterred. He turned his attention to Jacques, who was doing his best to appear engaged. "Sir Jacques," Philippe began with a hint of curiosity, "you are from Normandy as well, if I am not mistaken. Which part exactly? I would love to hear more about your hometown."
Jacques stiffened slightly, his discomfort evident. "Argentan, Your Excellency," he replied curtly, offering nothing more.
Philippe paused, sensing the knight's reluctance but pressed on politely. "Ah, Argentan. A noble place, indeed. Is it true that the knights there are trained from a young age in the arts of combat and courtly manners?"
Jacques forced a smile, nodding stiffly. "Yes, Your Excellency. From a very young age, we are taught the ways of the sword, as well as how to serve and protect with honour."
Philippe nodded approvingly. "Ah, the life of a knight! 'Tis a noble calling, indeed. I'm sure you have many stories of valour and bravery to share. Perhaps one day, you might tell us a few?"
Jacques nodded again, though his mind was far from the conversation. He couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment and regret that weighed heavily on his conscience. Every now and then, he would steal a glance at Alisa, but each time, he quickly averted his eyes, unable to face her properly.
The breakfast continued in much the same manner, with Philippe unaware of the tension as he chattered on about the upcoming festival, local politics, and the finer points of Aquileian cuisine. Alisa responded politely when necessary, but her attention was divided.
Finally, the meal came to an end. Jacques, desperate to escape the discomfort, politely excused himself. "If you'll pardon me, Your Excellency, my lady, I have duties to attend to in the stables."
Philippe waved him off cheerfully. "Of course, Sir Jacques, of course! We all have our responsibilities. Do enjoy the rest of your day."
Jacques stood and gave a quick bow to both Philippe and Alisa before making his exit. The moment he stepped outside the dining hall, he let out a long breath, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The stables, with their familiar smells and sounds, would be his refuge, a place where he could bury himself in work and try to forget the embarrassment that clung to him like a shadow. With determination, he marched to the stables.
Alisa frowned at Jacques' escape. Because that was what it felt: he was running. Running from her.
She pressed her lips together: no, this wouldn't do. Their friendship – the ease, the trust, the safe-feeling – was at stake. It was way too precious for her to give up on it just because of a stupid mistake made under the influence of too much alcohol from both sides. No, she wouldn't allow all this evaporating like snow in the sun!
"I am sorry, Your Excellence", she said to Philippe, interrupting his cheerful chatter. "I have a critical matter to take care of. Please forgive me if I'm looking rude, but I need to go at once."
Her urgent tone had the Prince-Bishop sobering instantly. "Of course, dear Lady Alisa!" he cried. "Don't you worry. As much as I appreciate your company, I understand when something pressing comes up and it has to be dealt with at once."
Alisa smiled at Philippe gratefully, appreciating his cleverness and common sense. She thus rose from her seat and walked briskly out of the hall, heading to the stables at a pretty fast pace.
OOO
When Jacque had reached the stables, he had immediately set to work brushing down Vaillant. The rhythmic motion of the brush against the horse's coat helped to calm his mind, but the sense of failure lingered. The more he tried to lose himself in the task, the more his thoughts spiralled back to the night before and the shame he felt.
It wasn't long before he heard footsteps approaching. Jacques tensed slightly, his grip tightening on the brush. He turned to see Lady Alisa standing at the entrance, her expression calm yet determined. She had followed him, and he knew she had noticed his attempts to avoid her.
"Jacques," she called out, her voice firm yet gentle. "Why are you hiding from me?"
He swallowed hard, his hand stilling on the horse's coat as he searched for the words to explain. Finally, he turned to face her, though it took every ounce of willpower to hold her gaze. "Because I feel ashamed of myself," he said in a strained voice, the confession slipping from his lips before he could stop it. "I allowed myself to lose control, to drink too much. I wasn't capable of preventing such an incident."
Alisa opened her mouth to say something, but Jacques quickly turned his face away, holding up a hand to stop her. He chewed on his lip, trying to gather his thoughts, before continuing, his voice laden with defeat. "I failed you, my lady. Not just because of the inexcusable situation, which alone could have caused damage I dread to think about, but more than that, I failed you because in the state I was in, I wouldn't have been able to protect you, to assist you as I have pledged myself to do. That is unforgivable for a knight. I should have been more careful, and despite your graciousness, your most kind gesture of overlooking this despicable behaviour and my shortcomings, for which I am deeply grateful, I beg you to forgive me that I cannot so easily forgive myself."
Once more, listening to Jacques pouring out his heart to her, Alisa felt the urge to speak, but realising how much this meant to him, she chose to stay quiet instead and keep on listening.
Jacques hung his head, a deep breath escaping his chest as the weight of his own words settled over him.
Vaillant, sensing his distress, nudged his side gently, nuzzling his shoulder in a soothing gesture. But even that small comfort did little to alleviate the turmoil inside him. "I came to you because I wanted to move on a different path," Jacques continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because I wanted to erase my past and begin anew. But last night... I failed you, and I failed myself."
The silence in the stables was heavy, broken only by the soft sounds of the horses shifting in their stalls. Jacques felt a deep sense of shame, not just for what had happened, but for allowing himself to become so vulnerable, to care so deeply about what Alisa thought of him. And yet, he couldn't deny the truth of it: he respected her, admired her, and that made his failure all the more painful.
As much as she wanted to reassure Jacques, Alisa held herself back, as she sensed he had not finished.
Finally, he dared to glance back at her, his eyes filled with regret. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice hoarse. "I don't know how to make this right, but I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."
When he fell silent at last, Alisa took a couple of steps forward, closing the distance between them. "Please, look at me, Jacques", she said quietly.
He hesitated, still too ashamed to gaze directly at her, but she was right in front of him and he couldn't escape her. He raised his eyes eventually and met her kind gaze.
"Listen, Jacques", Alisa spoke softly. "Your concern does you credit. I appreciate it. I really do. And I fully understand your fears about failing me in your duty to protect me. However, we are in a safe place. Nothing bad can happen to me in the Patriarch's house. Thus, don't be too hard on yourself. If you feel you have let me down, and wish to make up to me, then simply promise me that this won't happen ever again. 'Tis enough for me. You never lost my trust, not even for a moment. I still trust you completely. I trust you with my life and my honour."
Alisa placed a hand on Jacques' arm to emphasise her words. "Don't let this slip ruin our friendship", she pleaded. "It means a lot to me. I need my friend, not only my knight. So please, try and forgive yourself as I already did. Will you?"
Jacques felt the warmth of Alisa's hand on his arm, and her words brought him a sense of comfort he hadn't expected. She was offering him something precious – her trust, her friendship – and he knew how much that meant, especially coming from someone likeher.
It humbled him, deeply.
He took a steadying breath, meeting her gaze with all the sincerity he could muster. *Alisa," he began, his voice firm yet gentle, "your offer of friendship means more to me than I can express. It humbles me, truly. However, I will always look upon you as my employer, because that is what you are to me." He paused, searching for the right words. "The duty I have is to always remember my role. You are my lady, and my first and foremost responsibility is to serve and protect you. This one time I failed you and I vow that it won't happen again. I swear that in future I will ensure that I am always in full control of my senses to be able to fulfil my responsibilities." He hesitated, then added, "Please know, 'tis not that I don't value the friendship – I do, very much. But I believe that maintaining that distinction between us is important, for both our sakes. I will always strive to be the knight you can rely on, the one who protects and serves you, and that is where my focus must remain."
Alisa nodded slowly in acceptance of Jacques' words. He was right: it was proper and even preferable keeping the distinction between employer and employee. Boundaries were necessary, although they could blend work with friendship, at least to a certain degree.
She took one step back, placing a more appropriate distance between them. "My deal with Patriarch Philippe is closed, to both parts complete satisfaction. We have just to sign it", she reported, her tone businesslike but tinged with the warmth of the camaraderie they shared. "We're staying today though, to allow our men to recover from their injuries enough to be fit for the journey home. We'll leave tomorrow at dawn."
"Very well, my lady", Jacques replied in the same tone, relieved that Alisa had fully embraced his vision of their rapport. Then, it occurred to him that she had said our men and he felt a surge of gratefulness: she truly had accepted him as one of her people.
"At breakfast, the Patriarch spoke about chalices he wants for his cathedral", the Countess added, changing subject. "I want to take a look at them. Mayhap I'll find one to give to my good friend Caterina, the Abbess of St. Mary in Valley, as a gift for her convent."
Jacques started to move, wanting clearly to follow in her wake, but Alisa shook her head. "Let's meet in one hour at the castle's main gate", she suggested, then gestured towards his steed. "Finish taking care of him." Turning, she cast an admired glance at the magnificent white stallion. "Beautiful horse by the way, your Vaillant," she added with an appreciative smile. Then, she turned to leave, relieved that things had been cleared between her and her brave captain.
OOO
The expedition, despite Bembo's efforts to disrupt it, had been a success for Valdastico's business, as the Prince-Bishop had placed a large order. Alisa was very pleased, and by extension, Jacques too was pleased.
They left Aquileia on a bright morning with the blessing of Patriarch Philippe. Still wary after the ambush in the Arvonchi Wood, they travelled on high alert, but the journey home was thankfully uneventful. Perhaps, Jacques mused, the Count of Asolo hadn't yet been informed of Mariano of Ortiga's failure. However, sooner or later he would hear of it and would likely start to plot another move against Alisa. The thought had Jacques clench his fists on the reins: he would do whatever it took to protect her.
On the fourth day after leaving Aquileia, before noon the sky became overcast with grey clouds and a cold wind started to blow from the mountains ahead.
"'Tis probably going to rain before nightfall", Alisa anticipated, wrapping herself into a cloak as everyone else was doing.
"Let's hope we can make it home before it happens", muttered Jacques, eyeing the billowing clouds.
The drivers covered the wagon with a waterproof sheet, to prevent the rain ruining the goods. They did well, as Jacques' hope proved in vain just one hour later, when it started to rain so suddenly, they barely had the time to pull up their hoods. The rain became steadily heavier, until it poured cats and dogs. However, they weren't too far from Valdastico, hence, instead of seeking shelter along the way, they picked up their pace and hastily reached Malatesta Castle.
In the courtyard, the stable boys hurried to take the horses and the wagon. Alisa dismissed the armigers and the drivers, then she and Jacques entered the castle's hall.
"Welcome back, Lady Alisa, Sir Jacques", Stefano welcomed them. "When the sentinels spotted your arrival, I took the liberty to have baths drawn for both of you in your chambers."
"Thank you, my good Stefano!" cried Alisa, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "Please, have the apothecary prepare a tisane, as to prevent us to catch a cold."
"I will send for Mario at once", Stefano promised.
Alisa nodded, then turned to Jacques. "Let's have some rest before the evening meal", she suggested.
Jacques bowed to take his leave. "I will see you then, my lady", he replied.
Alisa bowed her head to dismiss him and he walked away, heading for his bedchamber, where he quickly took off his soaked garments and sank into the pleasantly hot water that had been prepared for him. Propping against the edge of the bathtub, he relaxed his limbs and let the warmth seep into his weary muscles.
In her own chambers, Alisa was doing as much, her mind already focussed on her next task: survey the already ongoing grape harvest, as to ensure the best quality for the new production of the Prosecco, and consequently, the new income for Valdastico.