Edith and Joan

     The moor seemed to stretch forever as Edith stared bleakly towards the rapidly darkening horizon. There was nothing much to look at, and she was becoming more restless by the second as she desperately attempted not to fidget and attract the unwanted attention of her guardian and lady-in-waiting, Joan. Edith was beginning to grow bitter towards Joan due to her sharp rebukes at the slightest misdemeanour, such as when Edith sighed or shuffled her feet, and jealousy for Joan’s own perfect rigid stillness and tranquillity, despite the fact that they had been travelling since their break at midday.

     Edith stifled a guilty sigh at her imperfections and attempted to pass the time by studying Joan’s impassive face. It was lined with life- all the smiles and frowns that Joan had ever expressed, all her worry over her restless and precocious charge, and all the breaths she had ever breathed, had left their ghost upon her features. The line of her jawbone led Edith’s eye to the proud posture of her neck. It was regally held, like a queen’s, like the rest of her body, and it left Edith thinking how, in many ways, Joan was probably better suited to her new position than she was herself.

     When the only light was coming from the moon, and the only sounds that could be heard were the eerie hooting of the owls and the noises of their wagon- the splashing of the wheels against the muddy road, the creak as the rusted metal scraped along the body- the silhouette of the imposing castle began to grace the horizon. Edith gazed at it with trepidation. She had been here before twice in her fifteen years for a stay on her way to the country. However, both of those times, she had had her mother and father with her, and the owner of the castle had shown no interest in her at all.

     The wagon finally began to make its way up the hill that led to the castle. The light momentarily disappeared as the ancient oaks that lined the road cast the travellers into shadows. The wagon slowed, then jolted to a stop before the doors of the manor. The driver sprung down and proceeded to help Edith out of the cart, with Joan following closely. The driver pulled out their luggage then knocked on the doors. Inside, the sound echoed around the entrance hall and the steward ran forward to admit the guests. He was immensely excited by the arrival, which had been gossiped about and eagerly anticipated by the servants for weeks. He stared openly at Edith, making her feel very uncomfortable.

     “Welcome,” said the housekeeper, giving both Edith and the steward a start. She reminded Edith of Joan. She had the same posture, the same propriety, and the same seriousness about her. She looked sensible, dutiful and very efficient.

     “I’m Mabel, the housekeeper here, my Lady,” she said, addressing herself to Edith. “The Master’s told me I’m to give you something to eat and drink if you care for it, and then show you to your room. He’ll see you in the morning. Is that agreeable to you, my Lady?”

     “Yes, thank you,” Edith murmured.

     “The dining hall’s through here, my Lady, unless you’d like a smaller room.”

     Edith hesitated, unsure what she was supposed to say. Though all at least twice her age, the room’s other occupants were looking at her, awaiting her instructions.

     “Perhaps a smaller room will serve us better, as we are only two,” she stammered.

      “Certainly, my Lady, whatever you like best. There’s a suitable room through this way.”

     Mabel began to show them to the room. Edith swept along behind her, and Joan followed closely behind that. They were let into a small room, and a few minutes later, a small meal arrived. Edith was starving and longed to devourer the bread and meat with her hands, but a warning look from Joan told her that that sort of behaviour was not allowed. Even though eating with your hands was commonly accepted and there was only themselves and a servant in the room, she would have to demonstrate more control. She took up her knife and fork and ate in a way that Joan usually praised as “dignified”. Today, however, she was expected to do without recognition. Edith knew Joan felt it was embarrassing that she had to be praised to act in a way that was refined. Edith felt bad when Joan was ashamed of her. As Joan had raised her since birth, she was like a second mother to Edith, albeit a second mother with whom she could be in a bad temper and boss around. Once they had eaten, they were shown into their room. Edith was extremely tired and fell asleep almost at once after entering the chamber.

     The next morning, Edith was woken by Joan’s gentle shakes. She got up, and Joan dressed her in a long red dress, then braided her hair and wove jewels into the design. Edith adorned herself with several heavy necklaces and bracelets. Each time another decoration was added to the outfit, the sense of occasion dawned on her, and Edith got more and more anxious until she had never been so nervous in her life. Edith was shaking with worry and agitation as she descended the many flights of stairs to get to the dining hall.

     Outside of the hall, she paused and took a breath as her presence was announced. The doors flew open and she walked in a little too quickly because of her nervousness. Joan made a small disapproving noise behind her, and the servants, for many of them the first glimpse they had of Edith, looked a little surprised. Edith had to pause rather abruptly as she took in the splendid decor of the room. Candles were placed on every surface, held in magnificent candelabras of gold and silver embellished by semi-precious jewels. Intricately woven tapestries hung from the wall, depicting historic battles and biblical scenes. The furniture was made of oak, beautifully carved and polished. There were glass windows to keep out the cold of the winter, creating a beautiful effect as the colours reflected around the room. Edith’s eyes gazed hungrily around the room, admiring all the adornments, then fixed themselves on a dark haired figure who was sitting casually at the largest table.

     He was watching her intently. Once she had stopped examining the hall, he looked her over. His eyes swept down her figure and then up again to consider her face. Once he saw the anxiety in her eyes his features softened. He raised his arms, wordlessly inviting her forward.

     Edith came, hesitantly. “Your Majesty,” she said, curtseying.

     “My Lady,” he replied. There was a pause.

     “How have you found your welcome here?” the King inquired, breaking the silence.

     “Most hospitable, Your Majesty. Thank you for inquiring.”  

     “And your journey?”

     “There were no difficulties, Your Majesty.”

     Edith was so nervous that she felt as if she was about to faint. She was trembling from head to toe as she addressed her King. He saw this, and in an obvious attempt to make her more comfortable, began to speak again.

     “Come now, we have been through the formalities. Since we are soon to be wed I do not think you can object to calling each other by our Christian names. My name is Henry and I wish for you to use it, and I will call you Edith.”

     “Certainly, Henry,” Edith stammered, very surprised.

     Henry smiled and they made further small talk over breakfast before Edith was dismissed without incident.

     Once she was back in her room, Edith began to pace the floor with vigour. This disgusted Joan, who loudly objected.    

     “My Lady! I ask you, what would your mother say if she could see you running around like a servant? You are the daughter of a duke and the future queen! Can’t you begin some embroidery, or call for a deck of cards or a chessboard, or go down to the chapel and spend some time with your devotions? Really,” she added beseechingly, “Your fretting is making me quite uneasy.”

      “It needn’t,” admonished Edith. “You have nothing to fret about. You are not marrying a stranger or becoming queen. However, if you will get me ready, I will take a turn around the garden.”

     Joan hurried to obey the crustiness in her mistress’s tone and they dressed for a walk. Out in the garden, Edith made for some large stone stairs that led to a little grove where they could be mostly undisturbed. Edith strode down the steps, leaving Joan to hasten behind. Unaccustomed to walking with speed, and not as young as she would have liked to be, Joan lost her balance and tumbled down the stones. She had twisted her ankle, wounded her head on the hard ground, and blood was flowing freely from the various cuts and grazes that she had sustained. Edith flew down to where Joan had fallen, calling for assistance with very unladylike volume. The servants within hearing distance came quickly to the scene, assuming that Edith herself was injured.

     When they got to the bottom of the stairs and saw the problem for themselves, they relaxed slightly. At Edith’s insistence and persistent loud weeping, they pick Joan up and carried her to the castle. They had barely even come inside when the King met them, having come to see what all the commotion was. He surveyed the scene calmly, and then made his way over the where Edith stood. Taking her hand in his in an attempt to comfort her, he asked her gently if Joan had been with the family a long time. Edith nodded mutely.  

     “Was she your nurse?”

     “Yes,” Edith moaned.

     “I had servant like that too,” he told Edith softly. “Her name was Mary. She was dearer to me then my mother was.” He paused to look at Joan. “Don’t trouble yourself. She will be very well cared for here.”

     Edith smiled through her tears, pleased that he was trying so hard to cheer her up. It was the first time in weeks that she had smiled as she had been so stressed about coming to the King’s castle. 

     “Thank you. I do appreciate it very much.”

     “There’s no trouble about it. And we must try to get along well now, mustn’t we?” he asked.

     “Yes, indeed,” agreed Edith, with a sidelong anxious glance towards the room where Joan had been taken.

     “You may go and see her.”

     Edith gave him a very thankful look then rushed over to Joan.

     “I’m so sorry,” she began to cry. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you or for you to hurt yourself!”

     “My Lady, everything is alright. I’m very glad, though, that you appear to have gotten over your anxiety towards your future husband! It was working me into quite a state! Really, as you can see, he’s nothing to be afraid of!”

     While Edith’s mouth was floundering, trying to work out how to properly reply to such a speech, Joan shot her an approving look. Edith was extremely pleased- Joan had not approved of anything she had done for days on end.

     “My Lady! Close your mouth at once! What undignified behaviour! I ask, what would your mother say? Indeed!”

     Edith closed her mouth obediently and curled it into a tiny private smile.