The Loneliest Ballad

Celia exchanged looks with an equally baffled Sabine, who stood as silent as a statue at the pavilion's edge.

"How has William fared over the years, by the way?" Sarai purred. "Is he still as stunningly handsome as he was in his youth?"

Celia nodded. "Very much so. All the ladies at court admire him, but he only has eyes for his wife."

"Then he's still wedded to the pagan chit?" Sarai's face fell.

"Well, yes. But you're wrong about Princess Camilla being a pagan. She attends chapel as frequently as anyone in the royal family, and I'm almost certain she's had all her babies baptised by the church as well."

"Babies?"

"Yes, four of them." Celia continued blithely. "Three boys and a girl. They're the most beautiful children you can imagine-"

"That's enough! Like hell I want to hear about the half-breed children William has sired on that woman!" Sarai was almost snarling.

"I'm sorry, but you asked."

"I asked about him, not her!"

Celia threw her hands in the air in a gesture of resignation. How the hell was she expected to know the history between the royal families of Islia and Havietten, let alone which subjects couldn't be mentioned in front of certain people?

I'm probably better off not making conversation with anyone for risk of saying something unintentionally awful, Celia told herself. Still, the thought of sitting in silence for hours on end next to an angry Sarai wasn't appealing either.

She even found herself wishing Tobin would return soon, just to fill the echoing silence.

"Where do you reside, if not here at St Ivan's?" Celia finally asked, hoping that living arrangements weren't also an upsetting subject for Sarai.

"In the countryside, about half a day's ride west. I purchased a manor house by selling some of my dowry."

Celia pondered this. The idea of a woman choosing - and being allowed - to live alone was completely new to her. Especially a young woman who could be remarried.

Was it lonely or was it liberating?

"What made you decide against returning to court?" she asked tentatively.

Sarai gave her a pointed look. "I had no desire to rejoin the fray here, especially after the scandal broke over Elias's arrest and then our annulment. I knew exactly how the courtiers would talk behind their hands about me, wondering if I'd been part of that fool's treason."

Celia nodded in understanding. She knew what it was like to walk into a room and be chilled by a breeze of whispers that dissected you.

"Besides, if I'd returned here, it would've reminded Father that I could be bargained off again." Sarai went on. "I was determined to avoid remarrying at all costs."

"I'm just, um, surprised, I guess. That you were able to assert your will over the situation." Celia spoke carefully. "Most young widows wouldn't have the choice."

"Those were troubled years here. There were lords in open rebellion and my father had his hands full bringing them to heel." Sarai said. "Father's greatest worry back then was your king would break your betrothal to Tobin. He was so busy protecting that precious union that he rather forgot about me."

"And you were never tempted to marry again? To seek a husband you could actually care for, children…?" Celia asked, thinking to herself that Sarai looked to be less than thirty years old. Definitely young enough to raise a family if she wished.

The older princess's granite expression, however, gave away her answer before her words did. "Oh lord, no. Absolutely not! Once you taste freedom, no woman in her right mind would be willing to imprison herself again."

The life Sarai was describing sounded exhilarating but also terrifying. Celia had never been taught to expect a life as a woman without a man's protection or authority.

And yet, she sat next to a woman who'd seized the opportunity eagerly and seemed happy with the outcome.

Sarai gave a sharp little laugh. "You're thinking about it, aren't you? What it would be like to awaken every morning, knowing you answer to no man. No husband or father to worry about disappointing. You can't even fathom it, can you? Few women can, especially royal ones."

"But you still have a father." Celia pointed out. "And even once he's gone, you'll have Tobin's authority over you as your king. It's not right to say that you have no master to limit you."

"True, but if I keep a low profile and live quietly, Father is happy to ignore his scandal tainted daughter. And Tobin? He's so lazy, he never gives me a moment of thought unless I stand literally right in front of him. Which I do as little as possible. Other than that, I'm free to rise when I like, dress how I like. I have no one's opinion to worry about and it's glorious."

"You're right. What you describe is beyond what I can understand." Celia admitted slowly. "To go from being constantly watched as a king's daughter to what you speak of…I couldn't even dream of it."

"And you'll probably never experience it either. Such luxuries are only for a woman whose good name has been tarnished." Sarai said cheerfully.

Celia immediately remembered Thea. Having been branded a witch meant she'd retreated from society and now answered to no one.

Was that freedom though, or just another form of imprisonment?

"I'm afraid a girl like you, without a spot of stain to her reputation, is quite stuck." Sarai sounded rather gleeful. "You'll be at my brother's beck and call until you die. Bearing his children and putting up with his whims. Should you outlive him, you'll either be married off to another master or spend the rest of your life in a widow's wimple, praying for Tobin's soul."

Celia felt her belly start to ache at Sarai's heartless description of her future. "No need to sound so pleased about it." she brooded.

Sarai merely shrugged. "It's the truth. A woman isn't just rewarded with a man's freedom for no reason. She must pay dearly for it. I did."

As did the witch, Celia thought.