Chapter 7
The remedy was quaffed. Prince Edmund, pale as death, gained a flush of color.
Relief softened every face.
The queen, tears in her eyes, clasped my hand. “Good child, despite Edmund’s wrongs-his scorn and cruelty-you’ve saved him without rancor. I am deeply grateful.”
She added, “I shall decree you Lady of Eldwood with royal honors, granting you a fief to enrich your village.”
I smiled faintly, accepting. This was my due.
Edmund stirred, his gaze upon me shimmering with tears.
“Forgive me…” At last, he voiced the debt owed across two lives. Yet it was not enough.
I said nothing. He choked back sobs, speaking alone.
“Sorry, I wronged you, Margaret. I deemed your blessed fertility a lie to seek royal favor, and thus misjudged you.”
His eyes flickered with regret. “In our past life, learning Eleanor bore my child, only to be slain by her lord, I turned my hate
upon you.”
His voice warmed, fervent. “Now, Eleanor lives, her child safe within her. You’ve saved me twice-then and now. Let us
begin anew. I’ll spend my life atoning for your pain.”
I spoke calmly. “While you lay senseless, Your Highness, I wed Sir Roland. To speak thus is to covet another’s bride.”
Edmund blanched, stunned, then forced out, “I’ll recompense Sir Roland with all I have. Your sacrifice is great; you may
carry his child. If you will agree to a remedy, I’ll name you my princess, and Eleanor… my mistress.”
I laughed softly, mocking. “No thanks, Your Highness. I am happy with Sir Roland. Seems you forgot-I’ve said a hundred
times I don’t want you and never will.”
“How can that be?” he cried, voice breaking. “If you despise me, why not let me perish? Why save me?”
He shouted, desperate, “You love me still-you must!”
I made no reply, turning to leave.
Roland, seeing me emerge, exhaled, his tense frame easing.
I smiled, teasing. “What troubles you? Did you fear I’d not return?”
His gaze, deep and tinged with red, met mine. “I did fear,” he admitted.
I chuckled. “Do you, like them, think I spared the prince for love?”
He turned away. “No.”
I smiled, silent.
Chapter 7
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Death might satisfy, but it passes in a moment. How could it repay the anguish of my kin and me from our past life?
To live, to suffer endlessly-that is true torment.
Supporting Roland, I walked toward the door.
Catching Eleanor’s panicked, venomous glare, I offered her a faint smile.
Enjoy your days, Edmund.
What you know not is this: my blood, steeped in rosemary, may prolong your days, but at a cost-tenfold pain, gnawing
ceaselessly until your end.
Live, and welcome Eleanor’s child, cherished across two lives, yet never yours by blood. You, in truth, sire no heir.
Chapter 7
