Page 27 of Knight of Chaos
“Ingrid Seymour,” she answered.
“Seymour… And from where do you hail, Ingrid Seymour?” the Empress inquired.
“A small farm outside of London,” Ingrid answered.
The Empress remained silent for a moment. “Interesting… I once knew a knight who went by the surname of Seymour but he was certainly no farmer and his lands were in Wales,” she stated, turning her gaze to Theobald.
“And what is this woman to you, Norwood?” the Empress asked.
“I have offered her my protection,” Theobald said. He tore his eyes from the Empress to look down upon Ingrid whilst a smile etched itself across her face. A moment passed between them until the Empress cleared her throat. Theobald shook himself out of the spell Ingrid had temporarily cast upon him with just one look.
“I see…” the Empress said. With a wave of her hand, she motioned for Ingrid to step closer. “I can ascertain for myself the temptation you might cause my knights if you were to continue to fight by their side, no matter how great my cause.”
“But, my Empress,” Ingrid began. The Empress raised her hand and Ingrid looked back upon Theobald with wide eyes.
“Norwood, I release you from whatever vow you have made to this woman,” the Empress said. Before he could reply, he was silenced with another gesture and clamped his mouth shut. “This woman shall now become one of my attendants. ’Tis a far greater honor than hefting a blade that might cause her to lose her life, not that I do not appreciate her efforts on my behalf.”
“I am honored,” Ingrid replied before kneeling down once more in homage to the Empress who held out her hand. Ingrid took her fingertips and kissed the signet ring. The Empress then stood and all those in attendance dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.
“Now rise, young lady, and follow me. The rest of you will be shown to chambers to await my orders.”
Ingrid held back in order to catch Theobald’s gaze and when their eyes met, he witnessed her look of anguish that showed how terrified she truly was. Given no other alternative, Ingrid was quickly whisked away from his view. Theobald’s audience with Empress Matilda was at an end as was his duty to watch over the fair Ingrid.
Chapter Eighteen
Ingrid sat beforethe hearth in a bedchamber she had been assigned to by one of the Empress’s lady attendants. Wrapped in a blanket to hide her nudity after her bath, a servant was drying her hair. The bedchamber itself was grand… far grander than anything Ingrid had ever been in. Her gaze swept the room from the large bed to a sturdy oak chest along one wall. A table and chair were placed near the shuttered window that could serve as a desk. Another small table holding a cup of wine for her pleasure was situated between her chair and the one opposite her now occupied by Lady Eden Howlande.
Ingrid’s hand shook as she reached for her wine, the chalice encrusted with jewels worth a small fortune. Taking a sip, she observed the lady across from her with lowered lids. Eden… She certainly appeared as though she belonged in Eden for the woman appeared as beautiful as any heavenly garden brought down to earth by God himself. Blonde hair hung loose to below her waist. Her gown was covered with jewels that would see a village fed for an entire year. Blue eyes rivaling the clearest sky were framed in a face with creamy white skin. The woman looked as if she belonged in a painting and not sitting in a castle with a fire burning outside its gates and throughout the city.
As if the lady knew she was being inspected, their eyes met, and Lady Eden gave Ingrid a soft smile. The woman reached for her own cup and gave a silent salute. Placing her goblet back down, she folded her perfectly shaped fingers in her lap and Ingrid could only ponder how she would be judged. After all, a lady such as this had nothing in common with a woman who spent her life on a farm or hefting a sword in the Empress’s name. Ingrid did not have long to wait for her answer.
“You have been blessed to be selected as one of the Empress’s ladies. You must have questions,” Lady Eden said in a kindly manner, surprising Ingrid.
“Blessed? I am not certain the Empress has chosen wisely, my lady. I am far from what is expected of a lady who attends court.” Ingrid took another sip of her wine to fortify herself. What the devil was she doing here and when would she see Theobald?
“The Empress rarely makes a mistake when choosing those she keeps close to her. As you can probably surmise, there are few of us she trusts—with good reason,” Lady Eden answered quietly before continuing. “The tasks of attending our Empress can be taught, but you cannot teach someone to be loyal.”
“Aye, but I am a commoner and not some titled lady. I have no notion on how or what I must needs do to become one who follows her court. I am a simple woman with simple needs and am far more comfortable with my sword in my hand.”
A short laugh escaped the lady. “I am certain the days of you swinging a blade are over, Mistress Ingrid, along with remaining in the company of men.”
A groan escaped her. “I suppose I can somehow manage whatever may be thrust my way once my clothes have been laundered and returned to me.” Ingrid’s hopes of being back in her hose and tunic were quickly dashed when Lady Eden’s sweet, bubbly laughter burst from her lips.
“Oh, Ingrid! You are truly a delight. You shall not be wearing the clothes you arrived in, my dear,” she said before patting her hair back into place, not that even one strand was amiss.
Before Ingrid could reply, the bedchamber door opened and in walked Lady Rovena Eatone and Lady Petula Wintere. Ingrid had been introduced to the pair prior to her bath and now they returned with enough fabric to make the dead groan in fear. They began placing a dress and other under garments on the bed.
Ingrid’s eyes became wide in horror. Not a gown! Good heavens. She could not even remember the last time she had donned one. “Where are my clothes?” she asked biting her lip.
Lady Rovena’s gaze was torn from the pretty dark blue fabric to stare upon Ingrid as though the answer was obvious. “This will be yours, now. Lady Petula and I thought this gown would fit, and we can alter the fabric as necessary, can we not, Petula?”
Lady Petula nodded whilst she set various threads and needles on the desk. “Aye. I came prepared to either take the hem in or out. Shall we get started?”
Ingrid clutched the fabric of the blanket closer to her chest. “Started? Started with what?”
“Making you presentable for our Empress.” Lady Eden stood and motioned to the servant. “You can leave us now. We can take care of the rest.”
The servant bobbed a curtsey and with a hastymilady, left the room.
