I tried to hang on to him but felt myself slipping.
“I need to find a skilled physician.” Jorg’s worry penetrated my haze. “Where is the closest one?”
“Delsworth?” I had no idea, but Birchwood and some of the other villages that bordered the forest wouldn’t have a physician amongst them. Perhaps one of the outlying estates of a nobleman might have a skilled healer on hand. But that kind of trek would take us at least a day—probably more. Delsworth was even farther, and the journey there would be impossible in my condition.
As if coming to the same conclusion, Jorg released a cry that contained all his frustration. “Surely there is someone in this godforsaken forest who can help us.”
“You’ll have to do it, Jorg.” Though I was grasping him as tightly as I could, my strength was fading.
Jorg was silent a moment. Then he sheathed his knife and axe before he straightened and bore more of my weight. “There is one place we might find aid. Let us pray there we will find friends and not foes.”
Chapter
7
Aurora
“I shall go berry picking again on the morrow.” With my spoon, I drew swirls in the gravy remaining on my trencher, pretty swirls in tune to the music playing in my head. Kresten was twirling me and smiling, the sunshine lightening his hair and turning it a warm wheat. His summer-sky eyes caressed my face, alight with pleasure and something else I couldn’t name but that made my pulse quicken.
The clinking and clanking around the table faded to silence, and I glanced up to find everyone staring at me.
“We can use more fruit, can we not?” I asked.
“Well now.” Sitting at one end of the table, Aunt Elspeth scanned the assortment of baked goods and other delicacies she’d been busy making. “I’m not sure . . .” She returned her attention to my face and then smiled and nodded. “Of course. Of course, we can use more—”
“Nonsense.” At the opposite end, Aunt Idony wiped her mouth with a napkin and pushed her empty trencher away. “We have too much already. In fact, if we eat any more, we’re likely to turn into fruit cakes.”
Chester guffawed and then resumed shoveling plum pudding into his mouth. With his broad shoulders and hefty girth, he filled the length of table across from me, especially with the way he slouched and spread his elbows wide as he supped. Black etched the grooves of his fingers from the charcoal burning. His dusty-blond hair fell over his freckled face, more contemplative than usual since his return the previous day.
Or perhaps I was the one who was more contemplative. “Very well. Then I shall collect more berries to preserve for winter.”
With the lengthening shadows of autumn, the simple candelabra at the center of the table cast a cozy glow. The spicy scents of the drying herbs overhead and the soft crackle of the flames on the hearth—everything about the cottage should have contented me, but restlessness needled me instead.
I dragged my spoon through the sauce and completed the final twirl. This time when I looked up, Chester had paused in his eating, his spoon lodged in his mouth. His eyes narrowed upon me, the humor from seconds ago gone.
“Of course, my sweeting.” Aunt Elspeth exchanged an anxious glance with Aunt Idony before she bestowed another one of her cheerful smiles upon me. “We can take the fruit with us when we leave, can we not, Idony?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, we cannot take it. We shall need to pack sparsely in order to travel swiftly.”
I let my spoon fall idle on my trencher. I’d forgotten. We wouldn’t need to worry about storing up winter supplies this year. Or any other year. After All Saints’ Day, I would be away from Inglewood Forest and ensconced in my royal residence, awaiting my coronation as queen of Mercia. There I would have all the provisions I could ever want.
A strange moroseness stole through me, the same that had followed me home the day I left Kresten behind in the woods after telling him I couldn’t meet him again. I’d been unable to stop thinking of him or our time together. And I hadn’t been able to stop wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake in severing our relationship.
Chester took his spoon from his mouth and sat up to his full, imposing stature. “I told you she’s been odd since I got home.”
Aunt Idony crossed her hands and examined me. “Her behavior and mood are slightly different, but with the impending changes, we can expect no less.”
“Slightly?” Chester scoffed. “She’s very different, and I want to know why.”
“‘She’ is right here at the table with you, listening to your conversation about ‘her.’” I glowered at Chester, and he glowered back.
“Who would like a nice cup of mead?” Aunt Elspeth stood and hustled toward the hearth. “I’ve made it with the special blend of spices everyone likes so well.”
“I would like to know what is going on with Rory.” Chester’s tone was as hard as his glare.
“And I would like a cup of mead.” I refused to look away from him for fear he’d realize he was right. I was behaving oddly. ’Twas because of meeting Kresten. He’d awoken feelings I hadn’t known existed—desire, attraction to a man, the need to experience love. And now that those longings were awakened, I couldn’t make them go back to sleep.
“Why exactly do you want to go berry picking on the morrow?” Chester insisted.
Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t brought it up. I didn’t want Chester growing more suspicious and confining me inside the cottage for the next two months. Besides, even if I ventured to the clearing, Kresten wouldn’t be there. Not after I’d told him we must go our separate ways and that nothing could ever happen between us. He’d proven himself to be the kind of man who would respect my decision.
Chester sat forward, his muscles stretching his tunic. “Why, Rory?”
I could feel Aunt Idony watching me, waiting for my answer and refraining from rebuking Chester as she did from time to time when he became overbearing. Now was one of those times I sorely wished she’d put him in his place.
However, I sensed neither she nor Chester would be satisfied until I gave them some sort of answer. “I like the freedom of exploring.”
“You should never have gone off by yourself.” Chester slapped the table, causing the dishes to rattle. Aunt Elspeth, who was stirring the mead, hopped and pressed a hand to her chest.
“I stayed close enough—”
“We have two months, Rory.” His voice escalated. “Just two months. Why couldn’t you wait instead of putting yourself in peril?”
We’d already had this conversation several times since he’d come home and learned I’d gone berry picking by myself. I understood his perspective. His father had sacrificed much to serve me. And Chester was doing the same. Now that we were this close to surviving the years of being hunted by Queen Margery, he didn’t want me to jeopardize what he and his father had labored so hard for.
I sighed and stared at the meal I’d barely touched. The swirly lines had turned into a maze amongst the congealed sauce. That’s how my life had felt in recent weeks. Like a confusing maze. Things should have been simple. I was the royal heir to the kingdom of Mercia. I’d been raised and groomed to become queen. And now the time was near when I would take the crown and put into practice everything I’d learned.