A New Start

We do not stay with the court for a fortnight. The very next day I order my household to get the carriage ready. In the afternoon everything's done and I'm told from Richard's servants that he's already waiting for me in the courtyard. As I stroke my gown to make a few creases invisible I walk to meet my son with my head held high. His eyes are cold when they meet mine and his words too.

"Mother", he simply greets me when I approach our carriage.

Will he ever look at me the same again? I push the thought out of my mind and instead smile at my son.

"I hope you're not too disappointed to leave court so soon?"

"I will manage", he answers coolly.

We are soon alone inside the carriage where no nosy servants can hear us.

"You must know that we're leaving so you can have some peace of mind and get away from the gossip of court."

Richard snorts as an answer and then leans in close.

"But dear mother it's not all gossip it is? You said so yourself."

He's lost all faith in me and I realise suddenly that I have no idea how to regain it.

"What's between Charles and I.. It began before you were born and has nothing to do with you and I."

Richard's eyes looks black when he speaks again.

"You were in his bed when my father was alive?"

I have closed the trap on myself and there's no way out now.

"Yes and your father knew and enjoyed the benefits of my relationship with the King."

This took Richard by surprise and suddenly he looks so lost and years younger. Perhaps it had been a mistake to bring him to court.

"You are nearly a man grown now", I say softly yet firmly. "You'll have to accept that even though I treasure you more than anything I'm not merely your mother."

He sits silent and from his face I cannot figure out what he's thinking. I do not know if he is cursing me or slowly coming to terms with the fact that his mother's immensely flawed and truly human.

When the carriage starts moving I watch the palace grow smaller by the minute. A sense of relief washes over me and I recognise that I may be too old or simply finished with the backstabbing and intense environment of court. I long for my own bed and fire, having an evening walk without servants following me and people whispering evil all around me.

When more than an hour's passed, I grow tired of the silence hanging over us like an angry cloud, slowly getting ready to unleash its wrath on us.

"I prayed for you for such a long time", I say while watching the road flying by. "When you were finally in my arms I could not believe you were real. I used to wake up in the middle of the night, run to your cot and make sure you were still breathing for months."

To conceal my tears I turn my face away and try to compose myself. There's so much I want to tell him. I want him to know that it doesn't matter who shares my bed or how much he despise me for everything I have done wrong. God has granted me one gift in this life and it's him. I am not ready to give him up. When his hand touch mine I almost flinch since the gesture's so unexpected. But then slowly, a smile takes a hold of my lips.