Raymond
The light spilled through the tall windows, lighting it up in an almost otherworldly way. Raymond’s vision was slightly blurred and his head was aching slightly, but his mood could not have been better. Laughter, for once, bubbled in his chest as he stumbled past the threshold to his and Gabrielle’s chambers.
She stood with her back to him, leaning over the cradle. He could hear the soft, nonsensical mutter of their baby girl from the other side of his wife. “Where have you been?” Gabrielle asked, her voice sharp. He swallowed deeply, detecting her anger.
“With the Council.” It was only half a lie.
She turned around swiftly. “Which part of it?”
“Which part…?” He furrowed.
“You know what I mean.” Her look was unforgiving. “Were you with the King’s Council, or were you just with Jonathan and Thomas, getting drunk?”
Of course, his legs chose that moment to fail and he stumbled into the wall. “I was with the King’s Council, but then…”
“Raymond.” She stepped towards him. “You’re a father now.”
Her expression was the same as the one that his mother sometimes wore, in situations like these. “I’m still a man.”
“You’re a father.”
“Yes, well my father didn’t change just because he had a child, did he?” She jumped back in shock and he realized that he’d been shouting. Her expression changed from shock back to disappointment and she shook her head slowly. “I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “Gab, I’m sorry.”
The baby started crying behind her and she went to see to it. She picked her up, rocking her in her arms while humming softly. “Lower your voice.”
"I’m sorry,” he whispered.
He really was sorry. It had been many months since the attack on the Queen’s chambers, but since then his workload had grown immensely. Raphael had told him that Adrianne did not want to go into exile, at least not until after the child was born. This meant that Raymond and sir Tristan had to work together to make the security around the royal family as well as it could be. With all his work, it was hard to find time for Gabrielle and his newborn daughter, and when he finally had time, it was usually during the night.
He did not want to go to sleep, not ever. His head hurt and his dreams were troubled, making it all but impossible to find rest. Drinking was good for that. It made him drowsy and it made him happy.
“Joanne!” Gabrielle called and the wet-nurse came rushing in. “Joanne, please take Elizabeth.”
With the baby off her hands, Gabrielle led the way into their solar. Here, she turned around and stared at him. “We need to announce our marriage soon.”
“I thought you wanted it to be a secret,” Raymond protested.
“But now I have a daughter. Do you want Elizabeth to be your bastard? Bastard boys might become squires and knights, but girls don’t have the same opportunity.”
“You know I don’t want that,” he muttered.
“So you just don’t want me as your wife?” Her look was of steel.
“You have to be joking.” There was no joke in either of their voices.
“I’m not,” she told him. “Why would you? I’m a dishonoured lady. Perhaps my name is good enough, but my status is not. Besides, you’re a prince with any girl for your taking. Why would you want to officialise our wedding?”
“You know why.” When he stepped towards her, she stepped back, eyes suspicious and feral. “I love you, Gab.”
“Do you? Then why do you go out drinking instead of taking care of our daughter? Instead of sleeping beside your wife? Why?”
“I can’t…”
“You can’t explain because I’m telling the truth, right?” She looked like she wanted to spit at him, or take the jug of wine and pour it over him. “You don’t love me. How could you?”
The next moment, a loud smack was heard. He could not say how it had happened; it seemed his hand had gotten a will of his own. When Gabrielle straightened herself, her fingers covered the spot where his hand had gotten in contact with her skin.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. Those three words were words he had said so often, but never had he meant them more.
“If you’re so damned sorry all the time, why don’t you get yourself together and stop behaving like a child?” She was shouting in the end of her speech, and then she marched out of the room. Raymond could not find it in himself to stop her, knew he was in no right to stop her.
Instead, he collapsed on a chair. The sun was shining more sharply now. It was not long before he began dozing of and for the first time in weeks, he truly slept.
In his dreams, Gabrielle was not leaving him, and they were not fighting. Instead, they were making love, moving against each other until there was no barrier between what was him and what was her. Please don’t leave me, she whispered to him, silvery tears in her eyes, please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you. I love you.
They would lie as they used to, on their sides looking at each other, hands joined in the middle. She would smile and laugh at something he said and he would chuckle merely from happiness of having her there. Do you love me? Raymond?
Raymond?
The voice changed, became deeper and kinder, and slowly Raymond opened his eyes. It took him a moment to realize what was going on; he was still in the chair, but the room was dark except for a single candle burning.
“Raymond?”
He looked to the door where he saw Thomas standing.
“Finally, I found you.” Thomas stepped inside and jumped onto a chair. “I was beginning to worry.”
“Worry?” Raymond’s voice was slurred from sleep and wine. “Do people still do that for me?”
Thomas chuckled. “Apparently.”
That was how their conversation went most of the time. They would ignore the sadness and darkness in each others’ words and simply laugh at the jokes, pretending not to notice that their friend was on the brink of depression.
“Did you fight?” the dwarf asked.
Raymond nodded, subconsciously reaching for the jug of wine. Even though he had a sceptical look in his eyes, Thomas did not say anything. They both knew they both needed it. They both knew the other would stop if he could.
“Love is truly a damnation,” Thomas mused aloud.
“Celeste?” Thomas nodded. The wine made its bitter path down Raymond’s throat. “You know she likes you, don’t you?”
“I do. That does not change anything. I’m not suitable for someone like her, much less as things are now.”
Raymond knew better than anyone that Thomas would never deem himself worthy, especially not for someone like Celeste. If innocence were to be personified by one girl, then she would be that girl.
“The worst thing is…” Thomas trailed off, shaking his head shamefully. “It’s that I don’t know if I can keep from her. I’m not sure if I have ever felt this strongly for anyone.” He closed his eyes tightly. “Every night I dream…”
In some remote part of his brain where humour still lived, Raymond was glad that he ended the sentence there. “You know that you’re the only one who thinks that you’re unworthy, don’t you?”
He chuckled to himself. “I’m not sure if your mother would back up that opinion.”
Raymond chuckled, too. “Well, she’s getting old anyway.”
“You need to figure out things with Gabrielle,” Thomas said after a moment.
“You need to figure out things with Celeste,” Raymond retaliated, but Thomas just gave him a serious look.
“I am serious. She’s been good on you, and you deserve to have something good.”
Raymond looked at his old friend. Raphael might have had their father’s crown, but Raymond was beginning to think that he had gotten the more important inheritance: the friendship of Thomas. “So do you.”
That night, there was another council meeting. Like the rest, they were filled with a sense of hopelessness, like it did not matter what they did, the kingdom would crumble no matter what. It was one of the long ones, too, with a long list of crimes. Raphael had had a long day at court with many criminals to be heard and sentences to be passed, and he was all but falling asleep with his hand as pillow. He did not know how it happened, or who had suggested it, but once more he found himself in a crowded inn, drinking cheap ale with some of the less moral councilmen.
To say that he was drunk when he returned to his chambers would be an understatement, and a big one. He stumbled through the door into the dark rooms.
“You reek,” Gabrielle’s voice informed him. It was slightly drowsy, as though he had woken her, but as angry as though they had been fighting for hours.
“I’m sorry,” he said and collapsed into a chair. “Where’s Elizabeth?”
“Far away from you.” He watched as Gabrielle sat up in her – their – bed. “Please don’t do this to me any longer.”
Raymond was surprised by the vulnerability in her voice. “I can’t help it,” he said, honestly, not too far away from crying himself. He truly wished he could stop.
“Please don’t do this to Elizabeth. Please, Raymond, I want her to have a father.” Her eyes were wet and gleamed in the moonlight, which spilled through the windows. “I want her to have the Raymond I fell in love with.”
It was incredible to think that he had only met her little more than three years earlier. Where had time gone? “Me too.”
“Well, you’re the only one who can make our wish come true.”
He had nothing he could say to that, nothing but bad excuses that even he could tell were stupid. He knew that if he were stronger, like Thomas or his brother, he would be able to stop. But he was weak.
“Raymond…” Her voice was trembling. The anger was replaced by exhaustion and deep, deep sorrow that he wished he would never have to recognize in Gabrielle. “Please, don’t leave me. Don’t leave us.”
“I won’t.” He cleared his throat. “I promise you, I won’t.”
“What if there’s a war?” she exclaimed, and Raymond shot to his feet. She reached out for him. “What if you’re killed? What then?”
He leaned towards her and her fingers curled around the leather straps in his clothing. “I won’t,” he mumbled.
She blinked away her tears, leaning her forehead against his and sucked in a air as though it was the first time in a long time that she was able to breathe. “How is it that when you’re away, I become so numb, like someone has covered me with feathery pillows? How come when you’re away, I manage to ignore how much I love you, I manage to even hate you? And when you return, I am taken over by this emotion that controls my every movement?”
He leaned closer to her and she arched into him. “What is it? Hatred or love?”
“Whatever it is that overwhelms,” she breathed, the sound of her voice swallowed by his mouth as he leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss that reminded him of everything that he had once had and had now lost, everything that made him go to the inn every time he had been to a meeting. The tears he cried landed on her lips, mixing with those that she had cried.
Her movements were clumsy and rushed as she pushed his clothes off and he felt that he could have died happily then and there when she pulled of her nightgown and welcomed him into their bed once more.
Everything was blurred and rushed and nothing mattered but the sensation of them moving together, of her moans and prayers, of the way her hand pressed against the headboard of the bed.
They lay together afterwards, silent, pretending that it was their first night and that, any moment now, Gabrielle would stand up and go to the window to look at the sunset. He remembered her words from that night. Of all the women you’ve brought here, I suspect I am the first one you have done this to. He forced the tears back.
“We’ll announce our wedding tomorrow,” he told her. “At court.”
She twisted and rested her head on his chest, above his hear. “Thank you,” she muttered.
His hand stroked through her hair, fingers twisting in her wild curls. “I love you, Gabrielle. If I do die, at least I want everyone to know that much.”