Page 71 of The Road to Avalon
Archfedd answered when Medraut spoke to her, but kept her hands folded neatly in her lap, presumably in case he tried to take one, and her eyes on her untouched sewing. This was marked by big uneven stitches and blood spots. She was as poor a seamstress as I was.
The smallest part of me had to feel a little sorry for Medraut. He did seem to be going out of his way to play the gallant suitor, bringing her small gifts: a bracelet, a torque of gold with dragon finials like the one her father wore, perfume. She accepted each gift with polite coldness and set them to one side with the air of one who would never deign to look upon them again, then resumed her scrutiny of her terrible sewing.
Despite his arrogance, he seemed genuinely fond of her, or at least infatuated, and not just keen on this marriage to further his climb to power. She was a very pretty girl, after all. Perhaps his pursuit of her that she’d complained to me about had all been part of this. Perhaps in his own way, he really did love her. I didn’t like him any better for it, but I begrudgingly allowed him a tiny morsel of compassion. Which only went to show how conniving he could be.
Morgawse did her best as well.
“Why don’t you go for a stroll together along the wall-walk?” she tried, smiling sweetly at my daughter. “With Medraut, I mean. Just the two of you.”
Archfedd gave her a look that would have frozen a blazing fire. “No thank you. It’s too hot.”
Morgawse possessed a firm determination not to give up, even in the face of such a setback, and tried again another day. “There’s a lovely breeze blowing outside. What about a ride with Medraut across the grazing lands? You look as though you could do with some fresh air.” Of course, this wouldn’t have been on their own. An escort would have accompanied them.
“No thank you. I don’t feel like riding.” Archfedd’s gaze returned to her folded hands and short-nibbled nails.
Medraut seemed bemused by her total lack of interest in him, perhaps convinced of his own attractiveness to women. I caught a look of hurt more than once in his eyes at her coldness, but couldn’t bring myself to suggest she be kinder to him.
He approached me one day while I was taking my morning stroll and fell in beside me as I walked. “Aunt Gwen, do you think you could find it in you to ask Archfedd to smile at me occasionally?” Nothing like getting to the point quickly.
I took a sideways glance at him. If I hadn’t known the stories legend attached to him, I’d have thought him just another lovesick boy. However… beneath that seemingly open façade, a heart of stone beat, I was certain. He might think he loved Archfedd, might have convinced himself it was her he wanted and not his uncle’s throne, might have half-convinced me he wasn’t as bad as I’d thought, but deep-down, I knew better. “I can’t make her do what she doesn’t feel like doing,” I said, uncaring about being blunt.
He frowned. “She’s going to have to get used to being with me all the time. We’ll be married by next week.”
I halted and turned to face him, swiping away the loose tendrils of my hair blowing into my eyes. “She doesn’t want to marry you. I can’t make her want to. No one can.”
He bit his lip, uncertain for once in his life. “When we’re married, she’ll come around. I know she will. She’ll have to love me then.”
Poor ignorant boy.
I sighed. “No one can make another person love them, Medraut. No matter how much you want her to, she has to come to it herself.” I didn’t add my certainty that she never would.
He frowned a little more, his brow puckering. “But she could at leasttalkto me. All I get is one-word answers and she won’t even look me in the eye.” He paused, maybe considering his words. “She won’t even hold my hand. She hides hers away. And next week we have to… be together… as man and wife.” Hot color surged up his neck to his cheeks.
How unlike Medraut to get embarrassed about anything. He had a well-earned reputation with women, and it wasn’t a good one.
I sucked in my lips as I thought. “Medraut, she’s young and she’s her father’s only surviving child. She needs delicate handling.” If only I could smooth the way for her, get him to see that if he wanted to win her over, he had to be kind rather than demanding. “Make her your friend if you want her to care for you. Be kind to her, be gentle. Give her time.”
“But I’m doing all that,” he protested. “I bring her gifts and she just puts them aside as though I’d rolled them in dog shit first. I try to talk to her, and she behaves as if I’m some irritating fly she can’t wait to swat.”
“Kindness isn’t just gifts. Kindness is understanding, allowing someone to be themselves, giving someone space when they need it. It’s many things. If you could manage any of that, you’d have a better chance.”
He rubbed his chin. “It wasn’t my idea. The King suggested it, you know. In case you thought I was only after her to help pave my way to the throne. I don’t need her. I’m already his heir. Hewantsme to marry her so my son and heir will be hers. And his heir as well.”
My eyes widened at his candor. This also wasn’t like him. Maybe love had softened him, if it really were love, that was.
“She’s my daughter, Medraut, and I want her to be happy.” I bit my lip. “I’ll be honest with you as you’ve been honest with me. I was angry when she told me her father had agreed to the betrothal. I didn’t want her to marry you. She’s my little girl, still, even though she’s nearly sixteen. I’m not used to girls getting married so young. They don’t, where I come from, but I do understand it goes on here and is normal. It’s hard for me to let her go, particularly as she doesn’t seem to want it. I’ve asked Arthur to change his mind, but he won’t. Now I’m asking you to treat her well and give her time. Don’t expect…everythingstraight away. Don’t force her. Please.”
His eyes narrowed, the candor gone. “She’s marrying me. She will be my wife in every way.” His chin jutted determinedly. “And shewilllove me. I’ll make sure of that.”
Cold horror drenched me as I stared at his determined face. Oh God, he was going to rape her. How had I not seen this before? Was I stupid? She was my child. I couldn’t let him do that. I had to do something. But what and how?
I had less than a week to save her. Less than a week to formulate a plan and put it into operation. My first thought, of poisoning Medraut, would solve everything, but the logistics of that seemed insurmountable. He ate in the Hall every night, of the same food as everyone else, and, when he visited us in my chamber, he ate and drank nothing, and even if he did, I couldn’t get poison into only his goblet without being seen.
With regret, I had to dismiss that idea. The fact that I’d seriously considered it frightened me a little, but I soon got over it. I was a lioness defending my cub and I could be ruthless.
Taking Archfedd back to my old world also crossed my mind, but I had no idea if the doorway still existed, and if it did, and I took her through it, how would she cope? She’d be separated from Llawfrodedd by the yawning chasm of time, never to see him again. And if I wanted anything, it was to see her safely married to the young man she truly loved.
I racked my brain.
