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M elissa rubbed her sweaty palms together, closed her eyes to calm her roiled stomach, and prayed it would hold the contents of her breakfast. Lady Agnes sat beside her on a bench outside the royal chamber. Her father and Lord Roker stood near the door in a hushed conversation.

She had dressed carefully, resorting to her favorite rose kirtle of soft wool. The tunic was a deeper hue of wine with tiny emerald birds embroidered along the edges and collar. Melissa knew the color of the thread highlighted her eyes, and the rose and wine shades accented her creamy skin.

The herald appeared at the door. “The Duke of Sunderland. The Earl of Garrick.” He nodded to the women. “The Countess and Lady Garrick.”

“There has been a mistake. I arranged for this audience.” Roker’s volume increased as he spoke. “This issue should be settled among men.”

“Her Highness requested the ladies be present,” said the herald with a shrug of his shoulders. “I only relay the order.”

With great effort, Roker rearranged his face. He turned to Melissa with gritted teeth and held out his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”

She nodded, keeping her hands hidden inside her rose tunic, and rubbed the lemon balm with such force the leaf crumbled in her pocket. No comfort there. With a deep breath and a false smile, she rose and accepted his escort.

The four had entered the room, and were halfway to the dais, when she heard Rolf’s voice. “I have an audience with the King.” Over her shoulder, she saw the guard shake his head and close the door.

“Did he think I would allow him to attend this appointment?” A malevolent chuckle rumbled in Lord Roker’s chest.

“He is not to be part of the audience?” She looked again over her shoulder at the thick oak door. You are a wizard. Do something.

“Come now, as your betrothed, you should have more faith in me. It is time to end this nonsense. You may thank me later.” Charles licked his lips then his eyes softened as he spoke, “You are an innocent, and the low-born mongrel has beguiled you. I forgive you, my love. I will deal with the wizard , later.”

Melissa tucked her free hand back into her pocket and clung to the crumbs of the leaf. She would get through this. Please legs, do not fail me. The two couples bowed and curtsied low in front of their monarchs. She looked to the queen for support and received an encouraging smile.

“Rise and declare your business, Roker.” Henry sat casually on his throne in tan hose and a dark brown tunic.

He leaned sideways toward his wife, a leg hanging over one arm of the chair; his elbow leaned on the other.

Eleanor reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I thought this was to be decided after my coronation? We have more important matters of State to attend to this afternoon.”

“Your Majesty, I seek approval for my betrothal, arranged by my dead father. I have with me the signed documents that prove Lady Melissa Garrick has been my intended for eight years.” He reached inside his tunic, pulled out a paper with the earl’s seal, and extended it toward the king.

“This should make matters clear for you.”

“Should it, now?” Henry swung his leg back and forth and rubbed his copper beard. “A piece of vellum signed by the usurper, who sat on my mother’s throne, should make things clear to me?”

The duke moved toward the dais. “Sire, if you would just look at this legal document—”

“Did I request you to approach me, knave?” Henry’s voice boomed across the room.

Charles gave an impatient sigh but stepped back. “I can read it for you, Your Majesty.”

Melissa’s fingers turned to ice as her betrothed spoke with such arrogance to his king. She saw the anger flare in Henry’s gray eyes and felt a pang of fear for all of them.

“Now, you do not think I can read? God’s bones, man, you try my patience.” The king’s neck was a deep rose, and the color slowly spread to his face.

Lord Garrick’s eyes widened. He gave his daughter a slight shake of his head. She dropped her hand to her side, happy to be free of his touch. Where was Rolf? She needed his strength right now.

“You do not look well,” Eleanor said, and leaned down toward Melissa. “Get this girl a stool.”

“You are too kind, Your Highness. I fear I am overwhelmed by my first visit to court.” Melissa accepted the seat without argument. She fanned herself, buying time.

Eleanor smiled in understanding. She laid a hand on her husband’s wrist and gave him a dazzling smile.

“May I deal with this matter, Your Grace? I detest the thought that this man might ruin your good humor.” She whispered loudly in his ear.

“I put such effort into making your spirits rise this morning.”

Henry let out a guffaw and slapped his thigh. “My sweet, whatever your heart desires today.”

“It is not my heart’s desire that concerns me.” Eleanor addressed the four subjects in front of her.

“Are all in agreement to this betrothal? Have the terms been decided upon?” The queen nodded as both men murmured their consent. “And you, my dear, have been given a rare opportunity. Do you approve of the match being arranged for you, or do you prefer someone else?”

Melissa could only stare at her sovereign as she tried to force words from her parched throat. A wolfhound appeared from the back of the room, distracting the party. He padded up to Eleanor and laid his head on her lap.

“Down, Goliath,” she ordered, and reached down to stroke his fur.

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes; a tremulous smile fluttered upon her lips.

“I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but—”

The hound let out a long howl. Henry chuckled and Eleanor reprimanded the animal. “Hush now, Goliath or you will have to leave.”

Melissa looked at the dog. His eyes pinned hers, and she recognized the brown flecks in those golden orbs. Rolf! Sweet Jesu, it was Rolf.

The wolfhound held Melissa’s gaze. Search your heart!

“I ask you again, Lady Melissa. Have you made a choice?”

All doubt vanished and courage surged through her. Her decision made, she braced herself for the consequences. “If given a choice, I choose Lord Rolf Arbrec.”

Her father stared at her in disbelief. The duke let out a roar. The blood drained from Melissa’s face.

“Sire, these past weeks have been a strain on my daughter. She is not herself. The advantages to this betrothal —”

“ I shall decide what is or is not advantageous in my court,” Henry interrupted with a crash of his fist. He turned to his wife.

“I know from my own experience that a contented and satisfied wife is a prize in itself. You have claimed your favor, and I have given you authority in this matter. What think you, madam?”

Melissa held her breath. It was unheard of for a woman to decide her own future. Would the king uphold his wife’s decision?

“I believe the Duke of Sunderland, such a loyal servant of the King, deserves an obliging bride, Your Grace. Lady Melissa, are you sure you wish to decline the offer?”

It was too late to turn back now. Stand strong! With a deep breath and what she hoped was a contrite smile at Charles, she answered in a bold voice, “Yea, I fear I cannot pass over such a gift as Your Highness has extended me,” she answered. “I would hate for you to waste a favor from the King.”

Eleanor grinned and nodded in acknowledgement.

The duke gripped Melissa’s arm with such force, she cried out. He swung her around to face him and shouted, “You ungrateful bi—”

The wolfhound snarled as Charles lifted his arm to backhand her.

The dog charged Roker, his teeth clamping onto his wrist and ripping the sleeve.

Blood dripped onto the duke’s light blue tunic, spreading in a slow, uneven circle.

He stared in disbelief at the stain, pulled a dagger from his belt, and raised it at the dog.

Agnes cried out, rushing for her daughter. Lord Garrick reached for the duke’s blade.

“Enough,” bellowed Henry. “Goliath, down.”

The dog backed away and lay down at the queen’s feet. Melissa’s heart pounded. He almost killed Rolf . She wanted to throw herself on that furry beast and kiss his whiskered mouth.

“Your Majesty, that dog attacked me. I was merely defending myself.”

“I saw no attack from Lady Garrick. You dare to raise a hand to a woman under my protection? On your knees!” His order surely could be heard out in the courtyard. The king turned to his wife. “My love, are you well?”

The queen appeared shaken, her palms protecting her belly. “I believe so, Your Grace. But my heart does pound fiercely.” The king laid a hand over hers and patted her stomach. Eleanor turned her attention back to the duke.

“Chivalry is highly regarded in this court, my lord. From what I have seen, you require more practice in the art of gallantry,” Her tone was icy. “Mayhap you would be more comfortable among those with rougher manners.”

“My apologies, Your Highness. I do not know what came over me.” The duke kept his head bowed, his tone penitent.

“We accept your apology, only because of your father’s loyalty to my grandfather and the large army you inherited.” Henry pointed at the duke. “You will need those forces when you help quell the unruly elements of Ireland.”

Roker’s face went pale. “You cannot banish me to that island of pagans.”

“A long rest here in the dungeon would be preferable? Or a crusade?” The queen asked sweetly, one eyebrow raised. “I suggest you do not provoke my husband further.”

Henry looked at one of his advisors standing nearby. “Please see that the Duke of Sunderland is given whatever he needs for provisions—a unit of my soldiers will accompany his forces. He will be providing supplies for his own army, of course.”

As the guards escorted the duke from the room, he paused before Melissa. “I apologize for my unexpected temper. I do not blame you, my love. I know he has bewitched you.” He traced his finger down her jaw then leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “This is not over. We shall meet again.”

Her chin went up, and she kept her eyes on the wolfhound in front of her. Melissa would not let him see her fear, as he was removed from the chamber. The man had changed from day to night and back to day again in the blink of an eye.

Henry cupped his wife’s cheek with his large, freckled hand. “Methinks you will make an exceptional regent when I am busy at war. Well done, Eleanor.”

“You are too kind, my love. I only responded as I thought my husband would, if it were in his hands.”

He rubbed her belly with both hands. “I hope all my sons have your wit, my dear. No one will accuse our family of being dull.”

***

The Garricks stood in the corridor in shocked silence at the events of the day.

“I cannot believe that Roker might have done harm to our daughter. If not for the Queen’s mongrel.

..” Lord Garrick shook his head and held out his arms to his daughter.

“My dear, I do not condone such disobedience, but these seem to be strange circumstances.”

“Oh, my lord father, I did not want to go against you but—”

“I have been asking my own questions this past week about the duke. He is not quite what we think,” Agnes said. “There may be even more to the story.”

Rolf stood at the end of the hall, listening to the exchange between the Garricks. He hesitated to interrupt, not knowing if her father would yet accept him. Melissa had maintained great courage—and he loved her for it. By Christ, he loved her.

Lord Garrick saw him as he pulled his daughter into a hug. Rolf watched him nod to his wife, who leaned over and whispered something in Melissa’s ear.

With a sudden cry, she spun from her father’s embrace, picked up her skirts, and ran into Rolf’s arms. He lifted her and swung her around, howling like a wolf.

She laughed as tears streamed down her face. “We are free.”

“Aye, my sweet,” he said, and kissed her wet cheeks. “We have set the course but have not finished the journey.”

“Do you not love me?”

“With all my heart.” He set her back on her feet. “But now you must meet Merlin.”

“I am ready, my lord.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. “I hope so.”