“I shall never be that thin again,” the Queen sighed.
“Neither shall I,” Britamund said. “It seems a shame to have altered the dress so radically.”
“Your mother was over twenty when she had that gown made, and it’s older than you, so I don’t think it can wait for you to grow into it. And I don’t know how she ever fit in it after you and your brothers were born.”
Eadgith gave her enormous belly another woeful glance. She still had a month to wait before her confinement, but it was difficult to see where she would fit any more baby if the coming Prince or Princess continued to grow.
“She probably let it out,” Britamund said, running a hand down one of the seams of the dress. “And now we’ve taken it in, in, in. Poor gown.”
“We haven’t taken it in, in, in so much as that,” Eadgith teased as she straightened the low-cut bodice. “I certainly didn’t have this bust when I was fourteen. You could be sixteen or even seventeen.”
“Do you think?” Britamund took another hopeful look in the mirror.
“I never had anything to speak of until after Drageling was born. Mind you, I never saw the point of it either, since the men aren’t babies any more and shouldn’t care about that part of you. But they do.”
“Aren’t they big babies, though?” Britamund giggled. “That’s what Alred says.”
“I hope he doesn’t say it because he’s been looking at your chest! We don’t need your future husband challenging your future father-in-law to a duel.”
Britamund tugged on the bodice in a vain attempt to sit it a little higher.
“Wait until Dunstan has a look at you,” Eadgith chuckled wickedly. “The gown was your father’s idea, but something tells me he’ll wish he hadn’t had it.”
“It was my father’s idea?” Britamund asked dazedly.
“You don’t think I would presume to take out your mother’s gowns, do you? Perhaps he means it as a birthday gift for Dunstan,” Eadgith laughed. “So long as he doesn’t think the gift is inside and try to unwrap you. Turn around and let me see the back again.”
Britamund dutifully turned around, but Eadgith did no more than lay her hands on Britamund’s waist and cry, “Oh!” A moment later Britamund heard why: her father’s voice was coming up the stairs ahead of him.
“Sigefrith!”
“Eadgith!”
“Sigefrith!”
Eadgith was giggling, but Britamund could scarcely smile.
“If I had been a duck,” the King said as he came in, “you would have bagged me with such a cunning decoy. Ah! Princess!” He clapped his hands over his face and sighed into them.
“How does she look?” Eadgith smiled.
For answer, he only sighed again.
“I shall leave you two alone for a moment,” Eadgith said.
“Now, where are you going, honey?” Sigefrith asked. “Don’t leave me alone here with this enchantress.”
“I’m simply going out into the hall to sit on the bench and take this burden off my feet. I don’t want my belly blocking your view.”
“Princess…”
Her father’s hazel eyes were unusually wistful, and there was such longing in them that he seemed to be looking through her to something that wasn’t there, and never would be. Britamund felt strangely embarrassed, though she did not know for whose sake.
“You’re supposed to be looking at the dress, not at me,” she scolded. “I’m the same girl you saw this morning in my red dress.”
He closed his eyes and bowed his head, shutting off that gaze.
“That is true. But I feel as if I never properly saw that girl before. That young woman, I should say. You’re growing up, Princess.”
She rolled her eyes. “The fact that I need new gowns at all should be evidence of that.”
“I thought ladies required new gowns on a regular basis all their lives! But you do good to tell me the contrary—I shall save some money on silks next year.”
Britamund rolled her eyes again.
“Look at you!” he laughed. “If I were fifteen and not your father… Hell, even if I were forty-two and not your father! I am beginning to have second thoughts about letting you out of this castle in this dress.”
“Eadie thought you would.”
“Oh, did she?” he chuckled and rubbed his palms together. “Well, well, I suppose I needn’t worry if I’m taking you no farther than Nothelm. Your betrothed will be there to cover my back as we fight off all the fifteen– to forty-two-year-olds.”
She did not roll her eyes again, but her gaze took a quick detour to the ceiling and back.
“What is that runt going to say when he sees you in this?”
“Oh, stop!” she cried, startling even herself.
Sigefrith blinked at her.
“You’re all making me feel like I’m Dunstan’s birthday gift!”
“Now, Dunstan knows you won’t be his for nearly another two years.”
“That doesn’t stop him from—from—from trying to borrow me now!”
“Just a moment! Is he trying to do anything he oughtn’t?”
“He’s always—always around me!” she sobbed.
“Princess!”
“And he’s always trying to put his arm around me, and trying to kiss me!”
“Now, Princess,” her father sighed. He did not sound terribly sympathetic. “You are his betrothed bride. You are a big girl of fourteen, and he will be seventeen tomorrow. I do not object to his putting his arm around you and kissing you, so long as he doesn’t take it any farther than that. And I would be sorry to think you objected.”
“But he’s…”
“He’s what?” her father prompted.
“He’s so…”
“Princess…” he sighed. “You’re a princess, remember.”
“I know!” she moaned.
“Does a princess put her own interests before everything else?”
“No.”
“Doesn’t a princess think of her family and her father’s kingdom first?”
Britamund sniffled.
“Now, honey, Alred is one of my closest friends, but you know we have no blood ties at all. He’s an extraordinarily wealthy man, and Dunstan himself is the cousin of two men who are pretenders to the throne of all England. Marrying my eldest daughter to Alred’s eldest son would make a very important alliance for me—no matter what happens.”
“I know,” she mumbled.
“I need you to do this for me—and for your brothers and sister, and for our friends, and for our people.”
“I know.”
“Excellent. Now, I was wondering when he would come around to it, but I believe the runt is finally developing a real affection for you. This is your chance, honey. It will never be easier for you to fall in love with him than it is now, when he loves you. Let him work to win you, if you like—I fancy he will find it as amusing as you will—but don’t dismiss him out of hand. He is a remarkable young man, and I shall be very proud to call him my son-in-law, and I think you will be very proud to call him your husband, if you let yourself.”
She nodded, and he bent down and pulled her into his arms.
“Then I shall be very proud, too,” he murmured, “to have a daughter who does her duty with courage and grace.”
“As you always have done yours.”
“Ah!” He squeezed her tighter. “You know just how to flatter the old man.” He released her from the grip of one arm for a moment to knock on the door.
“Sigefrith!” Eadgith called.
“What a goose!” he chuckled into Britamund’s hair. He let go of her so he could lift his head and cry, “Quack quack!”
After a moment, the Queen reentered the room, waddling very much like a duck indeed.
“Look here, Princess.” Sigefrith patted Eadgith’s belly. “Here’s a lady who does her duty with extraordinary courage and rather less grace, at the moment.”
“Whose fault is that?” Eadgith laughed.
Britamund was so horrified by what she saw when Eadgith turned her back to her that she could only gulp and choke on the air she was trying to breathe.
Her father peeked over Eadgith’s shoulder and asked, “Princess?”
“Eadie!” she squawked. “You’re bleeding!”
Chapters
Oh dear... That can't be good.