Chapter 2
No sooner had I departed the royal castle than rumors spread through Crownhold like wildfire.
Townsfolk whispered that I had woven tales of blessed fertility to wed Prince Edmund, seeking to usurp Lady Eleanor, the fairest and most learned maiden of the realm, and her betrothal to the prince.
On my return to the manor, commoners pelted me with rotten eggs and wilted greens, their voices thick with scorn.
“A mere woman, forsaking her honor with deceitful claims of blessed fertility!”
“Scheming with wanton lies, no better than a fallen woman!”
I silently wiped the filth from my face, lifting my gaze to meet Prince Edmund’s eyes from the balcony of the Rose and
Crown tavern.
Beside him stood a delicate beauty, Lady Eleanor, her eyes fixed upon me. Edmund’s stare carried a warning, cold and
unyielding.
Eleanor’s voice trembled with tears. “Is this the bride the queen has chosen for you, my love? If her fertility be truly
blessed, what then? Perhaps we should forsake our betrothal, and you should take her to wife.”
Edmund soothed her gently. “Pay no mind to the crowd’s clamor, my beloved. She is naught but ‘a false-tongued maid.
Even if her fertility were a divine blessing, I would not take to wife one my heart does not cherish.”
He added, “My malady is less dire than the leeches proclaim. Within three months, I shall be restored.”
I laughed coldly within. The city’s rumors and the mob’s insults were surely Edmund’s doing, a show of loyalty to his
beloved.
A cry of “Clear the path for the departed!” parted the crowd, and those who mocked me scattered.
A funeral procession approached, bearing a coffin draped with a mourning pall.
Murmurs rose among the onlookers.
The Sir Roland has prepared the bier already. So young, yet the good knight lies at death’s door-a tragedy for such a
valiant soul.”
“If only this talk of blessed fertility could grant Sir Roland an heir to carry his line.”
I gazed at the weeping woman leading the procession, then at the coffin, its carved oak stirring a memory.
A plan to escape my plight sparked in my mind.
I secluded myself in the manor guesthouse for days, avoiding all to steer clear of Edmund and Eleanor’s tangled web.
The guesthouse servants, loyal to Edmund, grew ever more disdainful, swayed by the city’s gossip.
By the third time they brought me spoiled broth, I could bear no more and hailed the maid at the door.
“This fare is rancid,” I said calmly. “Though I am not to wed the prince, I am the queen’s guest. Is this how you treat me?”
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The maid sneered. “That’s all you’ll get. Eat it or starve.”
She added, “Lady Eleanor now resides here. The prince has decreed that all provisions go first to her, and you take what she discards.”
My fists clenched, nausea rising. “So this broth is Lady Eleanor’s leavings?”
The maid rolled her eyes, tipping the bowl into a slop bucket. “What else, you shameless liar? You’re lucky to get even this. You belong with the swine.”
My temper broke. I seized the maid’s braid and struck her cheek.
She wailed and fled.
I wiped the blood from a scratch she’d left on my hand, but before I could tend the wound, Edmund stormed in, Eleanor trailing behind, her expression piteous.
Eleanor leaned close to Edmund, her voice soft. “Lady Margaret, I know your heart aches at losing the prince, but you should not vent your ire on my maid, nor strike her so.”
The maid sobbed, playing her part in their duet.
Edmund’s voice was sharp. “Margaret, I’ve told you I’ll never wed you. My heart is Eleanor’s alone. Your shrewish outburst wearies me. Apologize and beg pardon of her maid!”
“For what cause?” I bit my lip, defiant, meeting his gaze. “I struck her not for you, but for her insolence.”
Eleanor stepped forward, seizing my hand. “If you must vent your anger, let it fall on me, not my innocent maid!”
Her nails dug into my bleeding wound, drawing fresh blood.
I flinched, my hand jerking free.
With a cry, Eleanor stumbled back, clutching her chest, her body trembling as if seized by a fit.
“Eleanor!” Edmund caught her, his face pale, then turned on me with fury. “Margaret, what venom in your heart! Eleanor suffers from a frail heart, easily stirred, yet you torment her and her maid, striking her before my eyes!”
“I did no such thing!” I cried, teeth clenched. “She wounded me, and I but freed my hand!”
“You lie still!” he roared. “You feign meekness, biding your time to harm Eleanor, thinking to claim the title of princess in her stead!”
A sharp pain stung my cheek as I fell to the floor.
Edmund’s voice thundered above. “Take her to the courtyard and scourge her until Eleanor stirs. Should Eleanor not wake, she and her kin shall answer for this crime.”
Guards seized me at his command, hauling me to the manor courtyard and binding me to a post.
They tore my gown to bare my back, lashing me with a willow switch dipped in brine. Edmund addressed the gathered crowd, his face grim.
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”
“This woman and her village spread false tales of blessed fertility, claiming it can preserve any dying man’s line and restore him to health. She wove deceit to gain favor, defying the crown and seeking to supplant my betrothed, Lady Eleanor, as princess.”
He raised his voice. “Today, I punish this deceiver before you all, that she may never again beguile the realm.”
I writhed, crying out in pain. “I spoke no lies! I never sought to deceive!”
My screams echoed, but none believed me. The crowd jeered, cheering Edmund’s justice.
“I spoke no lies!” I sobbed. “I swore I would not wed you nor trouble your betrothal to Eleanor. Why, Prince Edmund, will you not let me be?”
His hand clenched the willow switch, his gaze fixed upon me with cold intent.
“Margaret, this punishment serves your salvation. Should your womb prove barren, my mother will free you from this bond, and I shall not be bound to wed you. Thus, we shall part, each to our rightful place, never to meet again.”
Edmund drew a breath, his gaze hardening. The switch arced through the air, striking my belly.
Blood welled in my mouth, spilling down my chin, seeping along my legs.
Darkness claimed me, and I knew no more.
