“Hallam Chadlington. My husband’s knight.”
Emelisse wondered if she was referring to the knight who took her to the vault and a wave of shock rolled over her. He didn’t believe she belonged there, as he’d told her, but duty had dictated that he obey his liege. But he’d said nothing about going to Lady de Wrenville with the situation, who was probably the only person in Winterhold who could contest or even amend her husband’s wishes. The power of the Lady of the Castle was notto be underestimated under most circumstances. Both shocked and relieved at the turn of events, Emelisse began to relax.
“You are gracious, Lady de Wrenville,” she said. “Your kindness is appreciated.”
Alice eyed her for a moment before turning to her servants and issuing a quiet series of orders– food, clothing, bedding, and a bath were being discussed and as the five women huddled together, hissing and whispering, Emelisse tore her gaze away from them to look at her surroundings.
She was in a small chamber at the very top of the keep, she assumed, because the ceiling was wooden and vaulted. There were beams overhead and beyond that, the pitched roof, which was actually quite low. It gave the chamber a cramped feeling. A small but empty bed was shoved against the wall along with capcases, trunks, and a wardrobe that had seen better days.
Clearly, it was a storage chamber or servant’s alcove considering they had passed through a larger chamber to reach it. Whatever it was, it was peaceful and chilly. And very barren. Emelisse hugged her arms against her body as she looked at the small hearth, dark and cold. As she wondered if she would be permitted to have a fire, the servants fled and Lady de Wrenville shut the door behind them, bolting it.
Everything was suddenly still and awkward with only the two of them in the small chamber. The servants had taken one taper with them, leaving the other one for Lady de Wrenville. When her gaze locked with Emelisse’s, she smiled wanly.
“You shall have warmth and food soon enough, my lady,” she said. “I do apologize this is the best I can do for now, but it is best this way so my husband will not find you.”
Emelisse eyed the woman in the darkness. “But if he goes looking for me in the vault, I will not be there.”
Lady de Wrenville snorted softly. “My dear, he would never set foot in that vault,” she said. “He only knows what he is told.Hallam knows I have you, so if my husband wishes to see you, Hallam will come for you. You needn’t worry about Covington simply showing up.”
Emelisse could sense a hint of disapproval in Lady de Wrenville’s voice when she spoke of her husband. Or perhaps it was even loathing.
Anything was possible when it came to Covington de Wrenville.
Though the woman was closing in on middle age, she was still too young to have a son the age of Marius. Although Emelisse had only met Marius twice, both times when they were younger, she knew he was older than she was by a few years. Lady de Wrenville didn’t look old enough to have given birth to a man of Marius’ age.
The situation was a little perplexing. But then she recalled that de Wrenville’s wife had died years ago. All that had happened was muddling her mind.
“May… may I ask why you should do this, my lady?” Emelisse asked. “You are going against your husband and I should not wish to get you into trouble with him. My trouble is my own, though as I said, your kindness is appreciated.”
Lady de Wrenville didn’t say anything right away. She walked over to one of the two windows in the chamber, both of them shuttered, and released the fasten on the shutters. She pulled them back, allowing frozen air into the chamber, but it was also fresh air, cleaning out the staleness of the room.
“Clouds are gathering,” she said, looking up at the sky. “Mayhap it shall snow. It has been a mild winter, though not having been at Winterhold very long, I would not know if this is normal. Someone told me that it makes its own weather, which is why they call it Winterhold.”
As Lady de Wrenville stood at the window, Emelisse studied her a little more. Her clothing was quite beautiful and quiteexpensive, her hair carefully arranged. Everything about her screamed of money and breeding, but in her simple statement, Emelisse gathered that the woman was new to Winterhold.
New to the House of de Wrenville.
A new wife?
“It is the mountains to the east that make their own weather,” Emelisse said after a moment. “Sometimes, we have storms where there should not be one. Where did you live before?”
Lady de Wrenville turned to her. “Dudley Castle,” she said. “It is south of here.”
“Is that where you were born?”
“Aye,” Lady de Wrenville said. “Where I was born and where I was certain I would remain until my recent marriage to Covington. Do I not appear old for a new bride? Surely that is what you are thinking. It is true, however. I do not fault you.”
Emelisse shook her head. “You do not look old for a new bride,” she said, though it wasn’t entirely true. “I saw a bride once who had grandchildren. It was her second marriage.”
“This is my first,” Lady de Wrenville said. When Emelisse didn’t have anything to say to that, she smiled faintly. “My first and, God willing, my one and only. If this is what marriage is like, then I could not endure it again. But forgive me; I should not be speaking so. I suppose… I suppose I brought you here because I feel pity for you, my dear. I married Covington de Wrenville two months ago and in that time, all I have heard about is Hawkstone Castle and the cursed de Thoringtons. I have come to live in a warring household, which is unpleasant at best. I heard rumor today that your father was captured, but I did not know you were captured until Hallam told me.”
More and more, Emelisse didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t sure if she should defend herself, her family. Surely she had no intention of speaking out against de Wrenville, not to the man’s wife. It might change her situation drastically and shevery much wanted to stay in the small chamber under Lady de Wrenville’s watchful eye.
“Given the circumstances, you are showing great compassion to an enemy,” she said.
Lady de Wrenville cocked a heavy eyebrow. “Enemy?” she said. Then, she shook her head. “It is not true, is it?”
“Is what true?”
