Dream of Me/Believe in Me

dazed by Udell's attack, she scrambled to defend herself. “I did not go to her. I was ill and Eahlswith kindly cared for me. It was the impulse of the moment to tell her what was in my heart, that is all.”
    “I am to believe you did not think she would tell the king and he tell me?”
    “Believe as you will, but no, I did not consider what she would do. Perhaps I should have.”
    “Without doubt you should have. Does it please you, lady, to know that now Alfred thinks you may be better suited to an abbey than to marriage with me? Does your heart rejoice at news that he has spoken to me of finding another bride?”
    In truth, her heart felt near to breaking but she tried valiantly to shore it up. This was what she had known must be. Why then did it shock so deeply that her very soul cried out in protest?
    “There is no joy in this, my lord. If you believe otherwise, you are sorely mistaken.” She turned away, determined he would not see her anguish. Hawk reached out to stop her and gripped the same arm Udell had bruised. Krysta cried out and an instant later found herself free.
    “Is my touch now so repugnant to you?” he demanded,his face hard with anger and something else that looked very much like grief.
    She truly had not thought of the consequences when she spilled her thoughts to Eahlswith and that was not a mistake Krysta would make again. If she told what had happened with Udell, she had no doubt that Hawk would go after him, his anger at her notwithstanding. Could she prevent it, she would not be the cause of any such confrontation.
    “I am merely tired,” she said and knew it for the weak response it was.
    He looked at her for a long moment, his features taut and his eyes so shadowed she could not see into them. When the silence had drawn bow-tight between them, he turned and without another word walked away from her.
    T HREE DAYS PASSED. DAYS OF SILENT MISERY FOR Krysta in which each moment seemed to hang endlessly before sinking, one more drop, into the ever-widening pool of her unhappiness. The door between her room and Hawk's remained closed. Though they sat near each other at the high table each evening, they retired separately and without a word to each other.
    Udell did not approach her again although several times she caught him looking at her with such deadly intent as to make the fine hairs at the nape of her neck rise in warning. She had made an enemy there and knew she might well live to regret it.
    Eahlswith, however, remained a friend. Each morning, the queen sent a tray with a dry husk of bread and an infusion of chamomile, which soothed Krysta's troubled stomach due, no doubt, to her anguish over Hawk. She was quite certain he was the cause but she did not blame him for it. Indeed, she could blame him for nothing, for itwas her own relentless conscience that had plunged them into such conflict.
    Raven and Thorgold were about, and she caught glimpses of them from time to time, but neither came near. How dearly she would have welcomed their company for never in her life had Krysta felt so alone. In the midst of the crowded court, always with the queen and her ladies, she felt as though she existed in a hollowed-out world that held only herself.
    And perhaps also Esa, who could not contain her good cheer and who seemed to be everywhere at once. She was a figure of such relentless gaiety that people began to look at her with some wonderment as they speculated about the cause. By the third day, Krysta realized that such discussions broke off whenever she approached. She was the recipient of quick, sympathetic looks that set her teeth on edge.
    To her disgust, she began to look for times when Esa and Hawk were together and quickly wished she had not, for such occurrences were all too frequent. When the court rode out to hunt, Esa maneuvered her mount next to Hawk's. Later, when Hawk and his men joined some of Alfred's on the training field beyond the town, Esa took her ladies and went to picnic nearby. Krysta caught sight of them from the queen's solar and rolled her eyes at the thought of fighting men being the object of such frivolous attention. But perhaps they liked it, for did not all men have a soft spot for flattery? Miserable at the thought that Hawk might actually enjoy Esa's simpering presence, Krysta withdrew and spent the rest of the afternoon sunk in sorry thoughts. That evening, in the great hall before they took their seats, Esa approached Hawk and engaged him in