The Heart of a Queen (A Historical Romance)

Chapter 29

Despite how upset she was over Llewellyn, Brienna couldn't help but be cheered by the presence of her old companion. Lasair had brought piles of things for the wedding, beautiful slippers, ribbons to adorn her hair, and a dress of the finest white linen. She tried everything on once, for Lasair's sake, and then stuffed it all into the wooden chest at the end of her bed as if that would help her forget about its future use.

The ceremony was to be at the end of a weekend of feasting, hunting, and gaming with the visiting kings and princes of other kingdoms, so in the meantime Brienna had plenty of chances to put her newly-learned skills to work. She talked to the gruff princes from Wales, the jovial kings of Ireland, and the sullen lords from Scotland who were really English lords that had only recently come into their titles.

"It all feels so superficial and silly," she confided in Isobel after a particularly vapid discussion about horse husbandry with an English Earl.

"Yes, exactly!" Isobel said, clapping her hands together, glad her pupil had finally gotten the lesson. "The business of men often is."

As miserable as Brienna was, there was someone in the castle more miserable than she, and that was Isobel. Llewellyn was going ahead with the wedding negotiations as if there was actually a possibility that she may marry Ruarc, and Brienna couldn't understand why he would do such a thing. In response, Ruarc was acting like he'd bagged a great stag at the hunt, for indeed, if the king of Gwynedd agreed to let him marry his sister, he'd have made quite a catch.

She could think of no better opportunity to use her new skills of persuasion and subterfuge than by saving her friend from an unwanted marriage. Brienna cornered her brother one afternoon in the stables, where he was handing over his horse to Ulf.

"I haven't had a chance to congratulate you on your coming marriage, brother."

"Too busy swooning over your own betrothed, I've noticed," Ruarc winked at her.

Brienna stifled a sigh of exasperation. Ruarc of course had seen all the attention Donnall was paying her; it was truly a sign of his obliviousness that Ruarc couldn't divine her true feelings about him.

Or maybe I've just become so skilled at hiding how I really feel? she thought, remembering that night when she'd fallen to her knees in front of Llewellyn, and Isobel had told her she was too forward. Since then she'd become better at maintaining a cool facade, but she was still just a beginner in the art. It occurred to her that Isobel was a master at keeping her true self hidden; so was Llewellyn. Was there a chance, then, that he was hiding how he really felt about her?

Brienna forced the thought from her mind. More wistful nonsense from a silly girl. That wasn't who she was anymore. She returned to the task at hand; convincing her brother to leave off with Isobel.

"I'm only surprised that you've put Danu so easily from your mind."

Ruarch said nothing, bending his head with sudden attention to scuffing the mud from his boots. Danu has the daughter of a king of one of the lesser clans whose territory bordered Connaught. Ruarc had been starry-eyed around her from adolescence, and she showed every sign of feeling the same about him. Their not-so-secret courtship had only gotten more serious as Ruarc matured into a man, Danu into a lovely, soft-spoken young woman.

"Was there not a promise between you?" Brienna pressed.

"Ay, no," Ruarc mumbled. "Nothing so formal."

"What a shame," Brienna said, molding her tone into one of consolation. "Has her father turned his eyes to a more prestigious suitor?" She knew Danu's father would not have done this, but she wanted to bring it up as a way of exposing Ruarc's own actions.

"No, for who would that be?" Ruarc said, falling into his usual boastfulness.

"Yes, that's what I thought," Brienna said. "Had she, on her own, decided that you were no longer a match for her?"

"Of course not, she'd cross the sea for me on the back of pickled prawn!" he retorted.

Brienna nodded agreeably, glad to see that she'd played on his pride exactly as intended.

"Maybe you've forgotten, then, your own pledges to her."

"Ay, I have not," Ruarc said. He was starting to look remorseful.

"Well, no matter." Brienna shrugged. "I've been away from Connaught for some time, but I don't remember her as being very beautiful."

"Poetry has been written about her," Ruarc jumped to her defence.

"As I said, I've been gone a while, but surely her brow can be no finer than that of Isobel's," Brienna argued.

"This Welsh mist has gotten into your head," Ruarc raged. "Next to Danu, Isobel is a stunted mushroom."

"Ah, you're correct," Brienna nodded, as if she could see the resemblance between Isobel and a mushroom as clear as day. "It's too bad, then, that you're about to marry her."

His face stricken, Ruarc stared, open-mouthed, at the clods of dirt he'd just shaken from his boots. He was clearly in a state of panic, now that he realized he was beholden to a bride he didn't want, under the expectations of the most powerful king in Wales. Brienna rummaged for some grain to feed to her horse, letting him squirm for a little while longer.

"Of course, it is very common for people to become ill on the passage from Ireland to Wales," she said finally. Ruarc didn't show any sign of following her point. "If your proposal was made in the haze of a fever, it would be perfectly understandable to everyone if you wanted to release yourself from obligation."

Ruarc looked up at her like she was throwing him an anchor in a storm.

"I do feel feverish," he said, wide-eyed.

"Still, the king might be put out. After all, for a few short days he thought he was acquiring an incomparable brother-in-law. I hope this doesn't sabotage the alliance between our two families," Brienna said, brow furrowed in fake concern.

"Oh no," Ruarc moaned.

"If you like, I could go and tell him for you. Any anger he may feel at your reversal he would be too courteous to show in my presence. Yes, I think that would be best. And for the time being, you should confine yourself to your chambers. Just in case." That last part she'd added for Isobel's benefit.

Ruarc blinked at her for a few seconds.

"Sister, I can't help but think that you'll run circles around poor Donnall once the two of you are wed."

"I suppose we shall see soon enough," she replied, and covered her lack of enthusiasm over the matter by turning her back on her brother and leaving the stables.