Galien acted as a fair lord, settling disputes between his subjects with a deftness that she admired. Her respect for him grew each day, and when she accompanied him into the village she noticed children flocked to him. On one notable day, they’d come upon a young girl crying by the well. After discovering the girl’s kitten had gone missing, he enlisted Claire’s help, as well as two knights, to search for the child’s pet. The look in the girl’s eyes as he’d returned the tiny black kitten to her waiting arms had melted Claire’s heart. Though stern and commanding at times, Galien had his gentle moments too, and she smiled and felt warm all over whenever she remembered this day.
The people of Minrova took a liking to Claire and made her feel at home, particularly those in the keep. She shared her mother’s sweet cake recipe with the cook, and after he received many compliments on the cakes, he began consulting her about the meals and smiled when she entered the kitchen. Claire also delighted in helping the younger ladies with their stitching, an art her mother had taught her at an early age. She learned to make precise stitches and create a perfect pattern in her pieces far ahead of her peers, because she learned the sooner she finished her stitch work, the sooner she could escape and run after her brothers. Now she found the work soothing because it reminded her of her mother, and it passed the hours when she was waiting on Galien to return from his duties.
Her evenings were full of passion with her lord husband. Flutters rose inher stomach when she reminisced about their nighttime activities. Each evening he brought her to their chambers and undressed her, often holding her in his lap while they discussed their day. His hands would play about in her hair, and a dark lustful look would flame in his eyes. She grew to love his roughness as much as his gentleness, craving each side of him and willingly giving herself over to his amorous moods, whether he wished to make tender love to her or smack her arse and then pound into her hard.
She tried her best to please him, and she couldn’t wait to thank Leuthold for arranging their marriage, for she found life with Galien a far better circumstance than being a lonely, fearful widow. The dark cloud that had surrounded her the day she married Diterich had lifted thanks to Galien. She saw the world and all its vivid colors, felt happiness rising and bursting in her heart on a daily basis, and the longer she was married to Galien, the more certain she was of her growing love for him.
Aye, she couldn’t deny it. She loved her husband and suspected he felt the same. After all, he hadn’t wandered into the village to seek company with the tavern whores, nor had he invited any to the keep. She’d kept a watchful eye on him after their fight that stemmed from his conversation with Agnete, and she hadn’t so much as seen him glance in another woman’s direction. After the miserable failure of her first marriage in this regard, she thanked God for blessing her with a loyal husband.
Her peaceful lull was broken one day, however, when she awoke early one morning with a sense of unease. She reached for Galien to discover him missing from their bed, and she slipped on a cloak and ventured to the window. Bright orange flames lit up the darkness in the distance. She gasped and surveyed the horizon, wishing the sun showed more than a thin pink line through the trees. Another fire flared to existence, far enough away from the first one for her to know it hadn’t spread from building to building.
These fires were intentional, and her pulse thudded with the suspicious that Minrova was under attack.Oh, Galien…
She dressed in haste and slipped into her thickest hosen and dug out her brother’s boots from her trunk, wishing she still had her knife. Putting her ear to the door, she listened for sounds of distress, and hearing none she cracked the door and peeked out. A dark feminine figure moved through the dim halls and headed for Claire. It was her lady’s maid, and her relaxed expression left Claire perplexed. Hadn’t she seen the fires?
“Erwyn. Have you glanced outside this morning?”
“Milady,” the young girl said, performing a quick curtsey. “Milord Galien has sent word to the castle that a band of miscreants set two buildings ablaze in the village. Two of the men have been captured, and the rest have been killed.”
“Lord Galien is unharmed?”
“No harm came to Lord Galien or any of his brave men. Milord has askedthat you remain in your chambers until he returns from questioning the captured villains.”
Sharp relief coursed through Claire. “Thank you, Erwyn.”
After another quick curtsey the girl turned and disappeared down the hall, and Claire retreated into her chambers to await Galien’s arrival. She stood at the window, gazing across the village beyond the castle walls. As the sunlight broke through the trees and over the mountains, the fires diminished into two trails of smoke rising from the blackened buildings. From this distance, she couldn’t ascertain what structures had suffered damage, whether they had been houses or storehouses, or perhaps one of the taverns. She hoped all those inside the buildings had escaped without injury.
The hours passed slowly and her impatience swelled as midday drew closer, and still Galien hadn’t returned. Erwyn came to help her dress properly with her bodice laced tight, and later the girl arrived with porridge and sweet bread, but Claire picked at her food and spent the rest of the time pacing from the door to the window, her restlessness and worry turning to anger. Why had Galien ordered her to remain in their chambers if the danger was over?
She glanced out at the village and saw no hint of the rising smoke from the fires, and people moved about in the streets, women chatted at the well, and children ran merrily about. The sky darkened though, and each time she returned to look out at the landscape, it grew more ominous still. A light snowfall began but soon turned to a complete whiteout, and she saw nothing from her view except a swirl of white against darkness.
Enough bloody waiting, she thought, and she bounded toward the door with purpose. She intended to find her husband, and after she hugged and kissed him and looked him over to ensure he wasn’t hurt, she planned to tell him exactly what she thought of being ordered to remain in her chambers for no good reason that she could discern.
Feeling especially cross, she flung the door open and prepared to exit her chambers, but a large man blocked her path. She gasped and looked into his dark brown eyes. Galien’s eyes.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.
She gulped and backed into the chamber. He followed her and shut the door behind him, his gaze censuring and focused solely on her.
“Didn’t your lady’s maid relay my instructions to you?”
She nodded, too angry to speak.
“Then you were about to disobey. Is that the truth of it?” Something odd and distant flickered in his eyes, a coldness she had never glimpsed from him before. His body vibrated with rage, and his tone reflected a harsh fury she hadn’t known he possessed.
“I became impatient and I wished to find you, my lord. I am sorry.” She stared at her blue slippers, fear chasing away every bit of anger she’d beenharboring.
“Sorry? You’re always sorry, Claire, especially after I give you a thrashing you richly deserve, yet you continue to disavow my authority again and again. Perhaps I have punished you too lightly.”
A flash of terror swept over her. Who was this man standing before her and where had her husband gone? She peeked up and trembled to see Galien methodically taking his sword belt off, removing the scabbards, and folding the leather in half. Her insides clenched with dread, and she started shaking her head as she backed up into the wall, her livid husband following her with his sword belt dangling from his hand.
“I didn’t even make it out of my chambers, my lord, and you intend to whip me with that?” Her lip trembled and she wanted to scream out that it wasn’t fair, that even though she’d been about to disobey him, it wasn’t cause for such a harsh punishment. A spanking perhaps, just a quick reminder to teach her to heed his word, but nothing like this. Not the sword belt, please, not the sword belt…
She suspected he meant to wield it with more force than the last time he’d used it on her, the time he’d given her ten light strokes in the tent. Tears spilled from her eyes because she didn’t understand the rage taking over her husband.
“Remove your clothing, Claire, and bend over the bed.”
“My lord, please. Don’t do this.”
