Dream of Me/Believe in Me

worked for some moments before she could manage sound from it.
    “Beware how you speak of the Lord lest the words leap from your tongue as poisonous frogs, revealing to all the cursed witch you are.”
    This was more even than Krysta could have expected and far more than she could bear. All her life she had lived among people who loved her, yet so sheltered an upbringing had not weakened her. To the contrary, it lay at the core of her strength.
    With quiet dignity, she said, “Enough, Daria. I sorrow for the demons that ride you but I will not allow you to speak to me in this way. If nothing else, it is disrespectful to the Lord Hawk, whose bride I will be. Accept that and mayhap there can yet be accord between us.”
    “Never,”
Daria spat. She glared at Krysta, then turned and stomped off, leaving the air to vibrate with her anger.
    When she was gone, Krysta moved over to the window and took a cleansing breath of fresh salt air. Steadier, she sat down on the bench overlooking the sea. It was a hopeless fancy, yet she wished that she could see over the vast miles to her beloved home. And if she could, what would the sight of home bring except a deep longing in her heart?
    “What ails you?” Raven asked. She settled on the bench beside Krysta and peered at her with keen black eyes that missed nothing. “If your face was any longer, it would be hanging down to your knees. Did I not see you in all your glory just yestereve, sitting right beside yourproud lord and him not giving off a flicker of displeasure?”
    Krysta shrugged a shoulder but could not quite cast off self-pity. It had a tendency to cling. “Did you think that meant all was well?”
    Raven made a small clicking sound, evidence of her impatience. “I thought it meant you'd done a damn sight better than I thought you would, but then I've never understood the ways of men. So what troubles you? No, wait, I'll guess. Dreadful Daria has been hereabout, spreading her own special brand of venom.”
    “Is it so obvious?”
    “It is, to me and everyone else. They're all whispering about how you looked last night, how Lord Hawk looked, how he looked at you when you weren't looking at him, and so on and so forth.” Raven shook herself at such foolishness. She tilted her head to one side and gazed at Krysta solemnly. “Of course, all they dare to do is whisper. That one still has power, she does, and she means to hold on to it.”
    “I have no wish to bring strife into my husband's home.”
    Raven snorted. “Strife is already here, girl. Strife is all that bag of bones knows. Not a hint of meat on her and not a bit of use to her save for making folks miserable. Besides, it's up to his lordship to decide what he wants or doesn't want in his home. From what I saw last night, what he wants is you.”
    “Wanting isn't loving.”
    “It's where most men start, so I hear.” Perceiving that little had changed in Krysta's mood, Raven sighed. “There now, you're made of sterner stuff than this. I can't believe she has brought you so low.”
    “It isn't really her, it's what she told me. Did you know that Lord Hawk was married before?”
    Raven glanced away. “I might have heard mention ofit. She died a long time ago. They say he never speaks of her.”
    “He never speaks of the battles he fought against the Danes when he was no more than a boy, either, but that doesn't mean they weren't important to him.”
    “He thought poorly of her, so folks say. They're hoping you'll do better.”
    “Mayhap I would if he weren't already in love with another woman.”
    Raven's head snapped up. “What's that you say? What woman?”
    “Daria didn't tell me her name, she only said there was another woman he wanted to marry. She called her a lady of true nobility.”
    “And you believed her? What's addled your brains, girl? If he had a notion to marry someone else, what of it? Doesn't mean he loved her. Love and marriage have nothing to do with each other.” She caught herself. “Leastways, not usually. Besides, if Dreadful Daria said she was
a lady of true nobility
, that likely means she's as stiff a stick as Daria herself. No wonder Lord Hawk hasn't been brought to the altar yet. He ought to be down on his knees thanking the Danes for making so much trouble as to bring about this alliance against them.”
    “Somehow, I don't see Hawk giving thanks to the Danes,” Krysta said with a reluctant smile.
    But the idea had a certain appeal, so much so that she was