As elusive as his stone soul, I could not fathom his need of me. With his regal bearing, and chiseled features that caused other women to swoon, his choice of betrothed was fodder for rumor and speculation among the court. I was not considered any great beauty. My skills in kitchen arts and healing gift seemingly my only attributes, since my dowry was meager at best.
His coterie tried to dissuade his decision, conspiring to sway him with clandestine trysts with more willing and attractive prospects. He shunned their attempts, claiming his allegiance to me and our matrimonial contract.
I knew no better offer was forthcoming, my pool of potential suitors was shallow. Gentry and titled, my offspring heirs to his land and name, I would not decline his proposal. In time, I hoped passion would blossom between us.
No matter how handsome or gallant, my love did not fly toward him, hollow and cold as he was. He was not unkind, there was simply no affection. I was his wife in name only. If not for our wedding night sheets display, we would not be married in the eyes of God either.
One winter gloaming, frigid as my marriage bed, I could not sleep. Gathering my ermine robe around my shoulders I roamed the manor halls hoping to find some spirit to save me from my misery.
An amber glow emanating from the library drew me forward. Listening from the arched entryway, I heard muffled groans. Thinking I had found my spirits, I stepped into the room only to discover where my husband’s real desires rested.
It took a moment for them to notice me standing at the head of their bearskin rug, then struggle to cover their nakedness. Light from the banked fire lit my face, making my smile more sinister than I intended.
A master and his squire are intrinsically close, but this would be scandalous. I would take my own lover unchallenged by the morrow.


Nice! I appreciate how there was no judgement from her, just the sense of freedom to follow her heart. Makes me wonder what put them together to begin with and what happens from here now that he knows she knows his true love.
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I wanted to imply that theirs was an arranged marriage for convenience. Who knows, I might bring them back in future stories.
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I like the classic voice in this. The “big” words emphasize the work, I have no problem reading, but I doubt I could write with such a clear voice. I like how his betrayal gave her the freedom.
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I didn’t want her to be a victim, using his indiscretion to her advantage.
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I’m always a fan of things left unsaid, of ambiguity, and of letting readers draw their own conclusion. I enjoyed this very much, and–with no graduate degree–had no problem with any of the language. I like your style and appreciate your respect for your readers.
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I like when an author lets me fill in blanks too. I’m such a word nerd, and love using different words, ones I feel convey exactly what I want to say.
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This is a terrific story. So well written and so cleverly captures the voice and (what I imagine) the manner of speaking. What a great job!
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Thanks Lumdog. I always appreciate when you stop by.
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Loved the voice in this. This was equal to Phillipa Gregory imho! 😀
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I’ve read some of Gregory’s period pieces, so I will welcome that as a lovely compliment. Thank you.
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So glad you ended it that way! Was not expecting it, but delighted.
Tara, email me kymm59@gmail.com if you want some structural crit.
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I like when I can surprise my readers. Thanks for the offer…
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I like how his betrayal gave her freedom to explore other ways out of her misery. That would be shocking to happen upon, though!
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It would be a shocker, but it explained a lot of things for her.
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