Sir Sigefrith gets permission

“I suppose you can guess why we’re here,” Sir Sigefrith murmured.

He and his godfather sat in the cloistered court of the castle in the ruddy light of torches and the blue light that followed sunset. His sister’s window was open far above, but he knew she would not be listening, even could she hear. Still, it gave him comfort to know she was there.

“I suppose I do,” the King said curtly, “but let’s pretend I am a foolish old man, and tell me anyway.”

“I am come to ask your permission to marry Wynflaed.”

“Hmm. Your mistress, isn’t it?”

“She isn’t…” Sigefrith began awkwardly, but finished with only, “Yes.”

“I see. Your wife has been dead how long?”

Sigefrith sat in silence. It had been over two weeks, as she had died on a Tuesday. He would never again feel quite the same way about Tuesdays. At least, not for the next year. But he would not so dishonor her as to count the days.

“I see,” the King repeated with greater scorn.

“I have honored my wife,” Sigefrith snapped. “I did not forsake her. I did not betray her secret, except to our own dearest friends. I would have claimed the child if she had wanted to keep him. I would have provided well for him if she had not – as indeed I shall do now. I have done everything an honorable man should have done.”

“And now you want your reward,” the King said sarcastically.

“Now I want to do what an honorable man should do with a woman who will bear his child.”

“Marry her.”

“Yes.”

“If you had not done a dishonorable thing before, you would not need to do an honorable thing now.”

“I know it. But it is not too late to do the honorable thing.”

The King sighed and rubbed his square hand over his square chin. “What would your grandfather have said, Sigefrith? He married a daughter of the Count of Flanders. What would your great-​​grandfather have said? He married a daughter of the King of Denmark.”

“I married a woman who was the great-​​granddaughter of three kings, and I have a son and two daughters with her.”

“And now you want your reward.”

“Now I want to marry the woman I love.”

“Sigefrith, please do not forget that ‘the woman you love’ will be mother to Hilda’s children, lady of your manor, and, some day that we hope will be long in coming, lady at Raegiming. She will be in your mother’s place, who is also the great-​​granddaughter of a king. Now tell me: are you not ashamed to put this farmer’s daughter in the place of your mother?”

“Not this one.”

“What does your father say?”

“My father will not stand against it. And my mother met her mother years ago and remembers her still, and she was satisfied that she was ladylike enough to raise a lady.”

“And is this girl ladylike enough to raise ladies?”

“Yes,” Sigefrith said without hesitation.

“And what do your children say?”

“I did not want to speak to them until I had your permission. Haakon is already very fond of her, and I am certain that Dora and Blithe will be as well.”

“Your sister is begging me to let you marry her. Did you know that?”

“I never asked her to.”

“I should hope that you would not attempt to use my own wife against me.”

“Never.”

“Your sister wants you to be happy, Sigefrith, and so does your mother. And your father is too crotchety to say it, but that’s all he wants too. He thinks you ought to have everything you have ever wanted, as he always has, ever since you were as tall as a tadpole,” the King sighed.

His godfather seemed to be softening, and so Sigefrith dared ask, “And you?”

“I want a great many things, but I suppose I must content myself with wanting you to be happy, since it is the only thing that will justify my allowing you to marry this girl.”

Sigefrith hesitated. Was he saying that he would allow it?

“You will like her when you have met her,” he said hopefully.

“Ah! It is true that that also might justify it. But, Sigefrith, I hope that you will have the sense to marry the girl quietly and bring her home without a fuss. This is not a time for celebrations.”

“I understand.”

“God preserve Murchad and bring him back next year!” the King said wearily. “He may be my one chance of seeing one of you people married as I wish before I die.”

Sigefrith did not know how to respond to that, so he only said, “Thank you, Sigefrith.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank your sister. It is so seldom she asks anything of me that I feel obliged to give her what she wants when she does. I think she knows it, too,” he chuckled. “Now, she is what I call a lady, runt. It’s a shame there’s only one of her.”