Always Anyways...

More long days of waiting....Nearly 6 days I have been waiting for my brother Woosley to give me clearance to go into the port town. However each day the answer was the same, no. Camp life is so very boring, which in essence is a blessing. The men manage to keep themselves busy with patrols and preparations, with practice and training. But for women there is little to do but sit idle. I am not one for empty hours, and I have found myself drawn to the medical tent, to tend to the men with more serious wounds. I would do the little I could to ease their suffering, or in a few cases, ease their passing. As the days continued, less men were lost and the rest were simply stuck waiting for their bodies to heal as best they could. Men were also stuck coming to terms with their new bodies, minus hands or legs below the knee. It was shocking for me to see this in such quantity so close. But this was always something my father sheltered me from. My service to my brother's men seemed to please Woosley, so that was a positive reaction as well.

However, as I was serving in the medical tent, I noticed a nun leaving with fresh bandages and water. My eyes followed her as she entered into Lord Gannon's tent. The following day, I waited and took the supplies from her personally when she went to leave, offering to tend to the Lord myself. When I came in, Lord Gannon was resting, his eyes closed tightly. I wiped down his face in his sleep, noticing that he was suffering from a small fever. When he awoke, it took a moment for his eyes to focus on my face, but he smiled, "God has sent an angel to tend to my sins." I just smiled back and did what I could to care for his wounds. That first day I stayed late, seeing that Lord Gannon ate and drank before I helped him return to his bed and drift back to sleep.

And so the next few days were filled. First tending to the men in the medical tent, and spending the rest of the afternoon and evening in the company of Lord Gannon. Our time together was a quiet one, as he would mostly rest, but there were tender private moments between us. Lord Gannon and I would speak of our thoughts and our minds, speak of dreams and the future of the lands, whatever topics came to our minds. He would touch my cheek with his hand, rubbing it softly when I would draw hear to bandage him. He would press his lips into my palm as I would try to cool down his face. I never stopped him and often a smile would slowly creep over my face as if I was unable to stop it. These personal times together gave me great joy, to feel connected to someone, to feel wanted, treasured and missed. I felt something warm spreading through my chest each time I would go to see Lord Gannon. And each night, I would drift off to the crackle of the fire with a smile on my face from the tingles where Lord Gannon had touched my skin.

Quietly something special grew in the gentle shelter of Lord Gannon's tent, until one particularly windy day that had a bitter edge to the air. The timid sun had faded behind the horizon and cold took the advantage with the absent source of warmth. I was desperately trying to see that Lord Gannon was warmed, but it seemed there were not enough furs or cloaks to fight back the bite of the night air. I even gave over the wolven fur that Lord Gannon once gave me to see that he was warmed as I struggled to build the fire ever higher in his tent. The evening was turning into night and I still had not retired to my own tent. Lord Gannon bid me closer and pressed his hand against my cheek, "Do not let such worry cloud your beautiful eyes...I will pass through the night without issue." I pressed his cold hand against my cheek, "But I feel the cold in your touch...I must do more." He shook his head at me, "No....you have done enough. More then enough...have my squire bring me more wine and I want to see you warmly tucked away yourself." I gazed back into his eyes, seeing the drops of fever already gathering on his forehead, "I should stay....tend you through the night." Lord Gannon shook his head, "No my precious...no..." I was attempting to argue when I felt a gust of cold wind and saw the fire's flames flicker around a shadow. Lord Kenrick stepped into his cousin's private chamber, "My Princess...I beg of you to retire." He said as he entered. But I could see his eyes quickly move from me to his cousin when he walked into such a private moment. I quickly shifted back from Lord Gannon's bedside as he spoke in agreement, "Good Kenrick, please see that this beautiful creature is taken back safely. And this wolven cloak....it is hers." He said, as he lifted it off the pile. Lord Kenrick did not answer at first, but he took two large steps over and nearly tore the cloak from his cousin's hands, quickly placing it around my shoulders, "Princess....please give me a moment to speak to my cousin." I looked back in his eyes and nodded, taking the cloak in my own hands and stepping out. I threw a few more logs into the already dangerously large fire, determined to warm Lord Gannon the best I could. But through the tent material, I could hear carefully hushed but firm tones going back and forth. It was no simple conversation and Lord Kenrick burst out a few moments later. "Please my Princess...the air is turning badly this night." I nodded to Lord Kenrick's concern over me and did not linger any more.

Soon I was back in my own tent, and this time it was Lord Kenrick who was fussing over my fire, trying desperately to make it as high as possible. I reached out and placed my hand on his arm, "You have done so much...I can tend my own fire." I murmured softly to him. He turned and there was a pained look on his face, "Princess..." I smiled gently at him, "Yes my Lord?" He looked down before looking back at me, "I feel that you should know...Lord Gannon's wife is with child, and is a mere few months away from bearing him a proper son." The words hit me like I had been thrown from a horse. Air escaped my lungs and they burned as if on fire. I turned away from him attempting to control my raging emotions. But I am a royal, and I have trained for this. "Of course....he speaks of her often. I am so glad that God has blessed them with a son." I lied so well, so convincingly but yet there was still pain in Lord Kenrick's voice, "I am glad for my cousin as well, if his wife was not in such poor condition, I would see that she would tend to him instead of you. You honour my family with such devotion to your people." I kept my back to Lord Kenrick as tears poured from my eyes, "It is I who am honoured by your family's devotion to my father's crown." Lord Kenrick attempted to say more, but soon marched out of the tent in silence.

Only then did I crumble before the fire, burying my face in my hands. A fool....such a fool....my chest ached and my head pounded as I felt like a foolish hand maiden. I should know my Lords better. I should know of these things. But I am clearly so desperately out of touch with my kingdom. Perhaps I no longer deserve the crown of Princess for I barely know my lands at all. But above all, above all the doubts and the pain, I felt betrayal. Betrayal from a man who claimed to know my heart so well, How? How could this be??