Chapter 3: Try and Try Again

The next morning, I arrived at breakfast to find Chantal seated in the chair across from mine.

“I was just explaining the situation that we find ourselves in to Chantal.” My mother in law explained. "If you are not with child, Chantal will take over your role as my son’s wife. She will be Chantal Boskstein. We will arrange for documents stating her as my son’s first wife. I will give you enough coins to settle in a neighboring village.”

“We are in the middle of a war.” One of Marius’s sisters exclaimed. “No village is going to take in a stray woman.”

“There will be no need to worry about that,” I assured them all, patting my belly. “I will be right here with Marius’s true heir before his uncle arrives.” My voice carried more certainty and bravado than I felt. I turned to my would be replacement and smiled. “Enjoy your breakfast, Chantal.”

After breakfast, Chantal and I found ourselves being shown out at the same time.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Chantal expressed as we took several paces in the same direction.

“If you say so,” I shrugged, not interested in what she had to say about me.

“Marius told me he never even touched you. He said you were too short and thin and unexciting.”

I shrugged again. Trying not to remember the hurt and shame I felt all those months ago when Chantal revealed her pregnancy to the family.

“Chantal, I—

“You’re no better than me,” she hissed, cutting me off. “Your father didn’t want you and neither did mine. But, you’re weak and I’m strong. Marius’ mother knew she wouldn’t be able to control me as she did you. That’s why she forced him to marry you. Marius would never put a baby in you. Never!”

“If Marius told you that then maybe it was simply because you did certain things that I wouldn’t.” I suggested with a pointed look.

Her face paled and she looked as if she were going to cry. I felt bad for a moment as she turned from me and hurried on her way. Then I remembered she was threatening my place in my husband’s home. I went to the village market again, this time for paper and ink. My plan to have a baby was falling apart, but that didn’t mean I had to just accept what my mother in law wanted.

I returned home and wrote a letter to my husband’s uncle, explaining everything. I left the letter in the drawer of my bedside table and then went to rest in bed. When I closed my eyes, the eyes of the prisoner returned to me. I had thought to forget my plan, but there was a feeling inside that made me think I needed to at least see him again.

But I had paid handsomely for the privilege. Thinking about how he’d devoured the fruit and sandwiches made me believe he’d at least appreciate a warm meal, if nothing else. I spent the late evening preparing a hot stew of beef and vegetables along with a side of bread and thick chunks of cheese. I filled a side parcel with berries and replaced the water in the canteen with wine.

As it grew late, I let the stew simmer and warmed another bath. I couldn’t help touching myself once again, quelling only a little bit of the heat that rose inside of me as I anticipated seeing him again. I took the time to set my hair and chose one of my favorite red dresses to put on over my naked body and under my black hooded cloak.

He seemed to be waiting for me when the guards opened his cell for me. His eyes dropped to the parcel in my hand containing the warm stew with bread and cheese.

I handed him the food and wine before placing my cloak over the bars and having a seat on the wall opposite from him.

He sat eating more slowly this time, looking me over silently before grunting a foreign word that felt like a ‘thank you’.

“You’re welcome.” I smiled sadly. “It’s the least I could do after what I tried yesterday. I am sorry, by the way.”

He paused in eating and held the soup up to offer some to me. The truth was I was a bit hungry. I came closer to him and sat in front of him. There was only one spoon. He took the liberty of alternating between feeding me and then himself, until I became full.

He enjoyed the rest on his own and I indicted the bread and cheese and berries. As he put the empty container down, he signaled that he’d give it some time to digest. I began to back away but he grabbed my wrist. I wasn’t sure what to expect. He pulled me closer and landed a soft kiss on my lips.

I began to tremble nervously and he stood up backing away. The sound of the chains around his wrists and ankles echoed against the walls and I wanted more than anything to free him. I stood beside him. Tracing my hand over the etchings of his chest before braving a kiss of my own.

His chains continued to clank as he brought his arms around my back and pressed me to him. His kisses remained soft and pleasant as he traced them over the curve of my neck down my chest. He pulled the top of my dress down along the way, exposing my breasts to the cool air before he cupped each in his hands.

A warm electricity radiated from his hands into my body. My knees felt weak and I leaned into him for support. He kissed me again, lifting the hem of my dress up and over my head. I trembled slightly as he gazed on me and paused with a look of anger and sadness.

Looking down, I exhaled my embarrassment and tried to cover the final bruises my husband had left me with before his departure. He stilled my hands and placed gentle kisses over the bruises. My belly, my side, my back, my legs. He knelt in front of me kissing my navel and then between my legs.

His tongue was firm but gentle as he licked me and then pulled the juicy bud into his mouth. I held my hands in his hair, gasping as he sucked and moaned with his own pleasure.