The king didn’t allow them much time to pick at her. He raised a fist and the trumpets sounded again. His fickle court immediately turned their attention to following the king. Most of them did not care for hunting, but the king did.
Groomsmen encouraged the hounds forward, releasing them from leashes. The dogs sniffed at the ground, whining and barking with growing excitement. James leaned down over the neck of his horse, allowing the animal to gain speed. Helena tightened her hold on the mare but didn’t pull the animal up. The wind chilled her cheeks and nose, bringing a surge of excitement to her. The party headed toward the woods that surrounded the palace. It was the king’s private land. The party entered the woods and the birds fluttered in the treetops. The trumpets were silent now, the king searching for a buck or maybe a boar. The hounds yipped and searched for a scent.
Knight and lords jostled one another in their attempts to ride near the king. Helena allowed herself to be pushed back, as all of the ladies did. She searched their faces, disappointment filling her when she didn’t catch sight of the queen’s colors. It was to be expected that the queen would not be present in her condition, but she had still hoped to see her friend Raelin.
“I am so sorry to hear about your wedding, Helena. I knew your mother when she was serving the late queen.” Lady Fitzgerald sniffed and looked down her nose at Helena, disdain evident in her expression.
“The king gave us his blessing.” Helena needed to use all her years of practice to speak to the woman in a sweet voice.
Lady Fitzgerald scoffed at her. “You’re very young and impressionable. The king is a Scot and obviously feels the need to give his fellow Scots what they want. That does not make it a good match.”
The king’s party had separated from the main group. Many of the courtiers who didn’t care for hunting had lagged behind and now clumped together to talk while the king ran down his prize. Other ladies joined them, sly smirks on their lips.
“Such a shame that your brother didn’t perform his duty better. I really am quite shocked to see a Knyvett doing something like gambling away his sister. That is so common.”
The ladies all shook their heads. Lady Fitzgerald offered her a sad smile.
“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but I do feel that you should be warned about Scotland.” The lady shuddered, her face contorting with disgust. “I was forced to follow my father there twice, and I must say it is a godforsaken place. The men are barbarians without a hint of knowledge of civilized behavior. Their clans are constantly fighting and they actually steal brides. Can you imagine? In this time? Barbarians! I really don’t enjoy telling you, but I couldn’t help but notice the long sword strapped to your husband’s back.”
“Yes…well thank you very much, Lady Fitzgerald.”
The woman looked astonished and the ladies surrounding her raised their eyebrows. Helena didn’t care. She refused to remain near them and their gossip.
She liked that sword.
No hip sword had ever struck her as powerful. It wasn’t so much the weapon as the way that Keir wore it—exactly like his men. There was no fancy pommel on his sword, either—nothing to set him above those who served as his retainers. She found that lack of pomposity a relief, not a sign of barbarism.
The sky had darkened. She rode out into a clearing without realizing that the storm had thickened above her head. The cloud mass was black, and thunder began to rumble in the distance. The few people in sight were making their way toward shelter. Lady Fitzgerald and her companions were already on their way back toward the palace. Helena pulled her cloak over her shoulders to protect her from the wind. But she didn’t turn her mare toward the palace.
She was quite unexpectedly alone for the moment, and that suited her mood. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and let the sounds of the woods fill her ears. There had been a time when she was allowed to run free in the afternoon once her studies were finished. Even if it was childish, she longed for a few moments of freedom from the constant criticism—just a few moments to enjoy the bite of the wind on her cheeks