Forever and a Thousand Times

Chapter Seven

Days morphed into weeks, and over that time, countless opportunities to witness just what kind of man Othniel was presented themselves. Ismene touched the petal of the daisy resting on her vanity table. He brought her fresh wild flowers every day for the last week, ever since he'd learned of her affinity. The silky-smooth texture of the daisy petal reminded her of the feel of his lips on their wedding day, and she bit hers to quell the rising blush. A quick look in the mirror revealed her lack of success. Hopefully, Helein wouldn't notice.

Ismene glanced at the maid's reflection to see she was still busy laying out Ismene's cream gown with gold threading in the trim. She sighed in relief.

"M'lady?" Helein eyed Ismene over her shoulder.

"Nothing. I was just thinking."

"A sigh is almost always related to unrequited feelings."

Ismene suppressed a smile. "Don't be silly. Sometimes a sigh is only a sigh."

"And sometimes it's not." Helein smoothed the soft material of Ismene's dress on the bed and then turned, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm worried about you."

Ismene shifted on the vanity seat and picked at the lace on the cuff of her dressing gown. "It's nothing, really. It's only . . ." Helein's eyebrows raised in expectation, and Ismene ducked her head. "Othniel. I don't know what I feel for him. I'm so confused. He's playful and teasing but never in a cruel way. Yet he knows who he must be and carries such . . . dignity. I-I . . ."

"You admire him."

Ismene half-smiled, half-grimaced, and met Helein's steady gaze. "Yes. I admire him very much."

Helein stepped close and pulled Ismene to her feet. "And well you should. His kindness extends to even the lowest servants. I've seen it." She helped Ismene out of her dressing clothes as she continued to speak. "Just the other day Conessa, the scullery maid I mentioned to you. You remember the one?" Helein waited for Ismene to nod. "Well, little Conessa was in raptures over your princeling and how he rescued her precious kitten—though it's not her kitten; it belongs to the groundskeeper to help capture rats—but the prince rescued that kitten from a deep crevice near the skirt wall. Poor Conessa couldn't get to it, her being so small."

"Was the kitten injured?"

"No. And we're not changing the subject. All that is to say you might not have got to choose for yourself, but you have got a worthy husband by Almighty. One you should leave in no doubt of his place in your heart."

"Mmm?" Ismene heard something strange in Helein's voice. Was she being chided by her maid, or was it a hint of something else? Something bleek?

Helein didn't continue, and Ismene let it go. They finished the process of dressing Ismene, but Helein's words sank further into Ismene's heart, giving her a grudging sense of peace about her own future. Better still, the knowledge that the frown Othniel had worn almost constantly the day after the wedding had practically faded away.

As her thoughts drifted, a small cloud marred the blue sky of her more pleasant musings. While Othniel thought her enjoyment of archery surprising, he'd not made her feel it was below her station. The whisperings at court about her lowborn pursuits, though, had not gone unnoticed. The general snubbing she received when she and Othniel were apart made it obvious it was on his behalf that the nobility were ever kind, which made his forthcoming trip seem all the more discouraging.

***

She'd been at the castle for almost two weeks. In all that time, Othniel had never pressured her. He seemed content to get to know her better, and for that her gratefulness abounded. But she hated to admit to herself how disappointed she was that he'd not kissed her again. After all, they were married, she reasoned too often to admit. Unbidden day dreams about it proved terribly distracting.