Chapter 1

 

Bernhard had been right. After that day, he never again saw his parents. They had both come to wave goodbye to him as he rode out of the gallery, and both had turned away and returned to their daily life before he was out of sight. It had been clear that they hadn’t expected him to return.

However, here he sat on his horse, facing his childhood home fourteen years later. He’d been called home from war because his father had died.

His mother had died a few years ago. The message first got to him after she was cold and buried in the ground, and it was too late for him to attend her funeral or the feast to remember her.

Bernhard heard the trumpets sound, announcing his arrival.

He pressed his legs into his horse and rode on.

People gathered outside to cheer for him and his returning men. They were his people, and they had cheered when he left too.

Bernhard hadn’t learned how to deal with them. He’d have to learn through trial and error. He wanted to be a good king, fair to his subjects, and he wanted to keep war away from the castle.

The French had been pushed back for now, but they were a nation that wanted more land to call their own. They weren’t satisfied with what they had. Because the ocean was one of its borders, they didn’t have that many directions where they could make trouble.

Bernhard rode through the gallery and into the courtyard. His men dismounted and latched onto the willing-looking women.

Bernhard wasn’t interested in a woman today. Instead, he wanted to look around and move into his new chambers. He needed to take his place as king and assure his people that all was well again.

He walked into the great hall and glanced around before he went to the high table and sat down in the middle of it at his father’s place.

It felt odd to be sitting here.

Bernhard examined his mother’s empty chair. Soon his wife would be seated next to him. He’d need a wife and an heir as soon as possible. He had to secure a replacement for himself. Alone the fact that he was sitting here proved that no man sat here forever.

He was seven and twenty years, an age when a man should have a handful of children.

Several women came running to serve him, setting beer and food down in front of him.

He ate and drank and thought about the coming years. Luckily, he’d be able to choose his own wife. He was certain that fathers would be showing up at his door soon, claiming that they had the most beautiful daughters in the entire world, wanting him to marry them.

Slowly, his men joined him and a feast started. Stories of war accomplishments were embellished and lies were told, which grew with each telling.

They celebrated their return until late in the night.

~

Giselle despised the thought of more men at the castle. The household knights were more than enough to keep her on her toes. Thankfully, most of them had wives to keep them in check.

However, the men, who arrived today, were mostly lustful and unmarried. They grabbed at her body and tried to lift up the skirts of her bliaut, which covered her body from her shoulder to her ankles.

Some men were returning to their wives, but most wanted any woman they could find. Their eyes glided over Giselle’s body, and their hands often followed their eyes.

She scolded them and pushed them away. Usually, another woman would take hold of the man Giselle chastised and lay their arms around them, so Giselle could get her work done. Some women greeted old sweethearts. Most of the women weren’t working like they should. That meant more work for Giselle.

Sadly, today wasn’t a day for daydreaming.

Giselle loved to daydream. She told herself that her daydreams were memories, but the cook, the woman who had saved her life back when she was a little girl, told her it was only her overactive imagination.

The cook was the woman who raised her. Giselle was certain that she hated her. Every chance she got to whip her, she did.

Giselle wished that she still had her parents. It would be so nice to have someone who loved her and truly cared for her.

She felt someone tugging upwards on her ear. It was the cook.

“Giselle, if we didn’t have an army to feed out there, I’d whip you. Concentrate on what you’re doing.” The cook let go of Giselle’s ear. She still hated Giselle. As the child grew, so did her hate.

Giselle went back to work. Platter after platter needed to be brought up to the hall. Several women carried up steins filled with beer, several in each hand, and still, the men wanted more. They were loud and grabbed onto the serving women.

Giselle darted out of the way whenever a man tried to grab onto her. Years of training had taught her how to move to get away from them. A twist of the body a moment before their dirty hands could touch her body, and she was free.

She knew that she’d once been someone important. It would be wrong to let such low men touch her.

The men were drunk, making them slow, but there were so many of them. They came at her from all directions. And when they got hold of her, they mauled her body, hurting her.

“Let me go!” she demanded.

“This one thinks that she’s something special,” the drunken man declared, making everyone laugh.

A woman who was returning from a romp with a man wrapped her arms around two of the men’s necks and laughed loudly. “You don’t want her. She’s as cold as a frozen river. You’ll get no warmth from her.”

Giselle darted away and went back to the kitchens to hide, first returning when the cook slapped her, demanding that she carry up more food because the other women were whoring.

The night was long and loud, and Giselle was up until dawn cleaning up.

~

When the sun came up, it was time to cook again for the early risers.

Giselle didn’t mind the lack of sleep. It meant that she’d made it through the night with her maidenhead intact.

She never wanted to lie with a man and have a child. The thought of it disgusted her. Men were vile and rude, unwashed and cruel.

She’d seen several men taking their pleasure with a woman. The way they grunted and pumped into a woman with the same penis they relieved their bladders with disgusted her too, sickening her to her stomach.

She saw her body as clean and pure. The men weren’t worthy of her. The other women didn’t wash themselves every day, they didn’t rub their teeth clean, and they didn’t brush and freshly braid their unwashed hair.

Needless to say, she wasn’t popular among the girls. They hated how she looked at them. Giselle’s haughtiness made them respect her, but it also made her very lonely. She didn’t have a friend in the world, so she dreamed up friends, exactly like she dreamed about her family.

When she couldn’t remember what her family looked like, she made a family up. Her private thoughts were her sole comfort.

Giselle’s daydreams got her into a lot of trouble. The cook called her lazy, but that wasn’t true. Giselle’s hands usually continued to work while she dreamed.

This morning Giselle was tired, as were the other women and girls in the kitchens.

The cook spent the morning slapping the girls who rose from their beds to help.

The ones still in bed, pleasuring men had it better this morning. As is often the case, those with a sense of duty paid the price for those who couldn’t be bothered to show up.

~

Bernhard woke and glanced around his bedchambers. Last night was the second time he’d slept in this bedchamber. The first had been the day he was born.

His mother had given birth to him in the king’s chambers. Afterwards, he’d been presented to his father.

Thereafter, he’d stayed in his own chambers with the women who cared for him.

Bernhard’s children would be born in this chamber, and they would play on the floor in front of the fire. He didn’t care what his wife looked like. Appearances weren’t important. His mother had been a beauty. But her heart had been cold. She’d felt no love for him.

What Bernhard wanted was happiness with a woman who would miss him when he was away. Mostly, he wanted a woman who would smile at him.

Of course, his wife would have to be noble born. She’d be a gentlewoman, but he’d do his part so she wouldn’t fear him.

On the battlefield, men talked about women constantly. Some men loved every woman they saw. Other men hated women and used them only to placate the needs that their bodies had for women, pushing them away the second they were finished with them. And some men only loved one woman and missed her when they were apart. They didn’t look at other women, and they only thought about her. His needs had to wait until he was rejoined with her again.

Bernhard considered himself to be a member of a fourth category. He enjoyed the company of women, and he gave them a piece of silver for their time, but he didn’t miss them once they left his tent.

His body would inform him when he had need for one again. Then he would search one out. Never the same one twice, so they didn’t think that they were special to him.

Only his wife would be special to him. His wife would be the only woman he took more than once. Once he had sworn his marriage oath, he’d stop giving silver to common girls.

He called for his squire to help him dress, and then he went down to eat and look at the damages to his childhood home. He heard that his father had let the castle’s upkeep slip before he passed on. Bernhard would see to it that this castle would be in perfect repair so a bride could easily picture this as her home.

Bernhard’s men were sleeping in hallways and some even on the stone steps of the tower staircases.

He went to the table and called for his breakfast. A very tired girl served him. Her clothes weren’t sitting correctly. Thus, he was able to look down the top of her bliaut at her ample swinging breasts. He could smell that she had been with at least one man in the night. She wasn’t the type of woman he wanted.

As he looked around, he realized that he needed to find a wife as soon as possible. This castle needed a lady, whose mere presence would make the men behave.

Besides, the men needed something to protect. A castle was merely stone walls and a king was only a man. But a man and wife were a family.

That was something worth protecting, especially if there were beloved children, living within the castle’s walls.

Bernhard called for his scriber to write letters, informing his neighbors, and those principalities known for having a daughter of the right age, that he’d arrived home, and that he would love to entertain lords and their ladies, as well as their children.

There was enough of a hint there to let them know that he was wife hunting, but he hadn’t said too much to make anyone assume that their daughters were already betrothed.