The Heiress of Baylin
Chapter 5

I awoke in a haze the next morning, wrapped in Brandon’s warm embrace. He was lost in a deep, blissful slumber. The rising sun cast a beam of warm light through our one glass window. I could hear the sound of birds chirping from the trees outside. The moment was so peaceful that I wished I could stay in bed with him all day. But it was then when I heard the murmuring of faint mumbling coming from outside. The sound made my stomach drop. I listened carefully, hearing the low bellowing sound of horses breathing. We were not alone, I determined fearfully.

“Sweetheart,” I whispered, nudging Brandon.

“What is it?” he grumbled, not opening his eyes.

“Wake up. Someone is outside.” As soon as I said this, his eyes flashed open. He immediately jumped out of his sleep. “Listen. Here that?” I pointed out. He sat up, listening intently.

“Oh my God,” he murmured under his breath. “Mary, stay here,” he ordered me, stepping out of bed. He quickly slipped on some trousers and a shirt.

“Be careful,” I whispered after him. He nodded before he exiting through the door, his sword ready in hand. I held the blanket over my mouth, tense.

“What is the meaning of this?” I heard Brandon’s voice rise angrily outside. My curiosity took over. I jumped out of my bed to peer out the window, surprised at what I saw. Tents were propped, set up all around our cottage. There must have been over twenty of them. They possessed the Baylin banner on the outside. Horses were tied to posts beside each one. Men in peasant clothing were walking around, talking with one another like it was their land and they had a right to be here. They looked to Brandon who was standing outside our door. They gave him a look as if he were invading their space instead of the situation being the other way around.

“We are here for Mary,” they announced.

“What are you speaking of? This is my house and my house alone. Mary doesn’t live here,” Brandon tried to lie to protect me.

Their eyes flashed to the window and I quickly ducked in response.

“She is in the window,” I heard one of them point out. Shoot, I thought critically, they spotted me. How could I be so stupid? I pressed my ear to a crack in the wall to listen further.

“She is my wife. Leave here at once!” Brandon demanded.

“Relax, we’re not here for that purpose. We have all accepted that we must be celibate for the remainder of our natural born lives. We are here because we have been searching the land everywhere for our savior and our queen. We seek to follow her as the disciples once followed Christ.”

“What?” Brandon seemed taken aback.

“Her survival is a miracle and we believe her to be an angel of God. She is the symbol of the rebirth of humanity, our messiah.”

“Oh, dear God…” I overheard Brandon grumble, annoyance in his tone.

“Exactly,” one of the men replied.

Brandon reentered the cottage, shutting the door firmly behind him. He found me crouched on the floor below the window.

“They don’t intend you harm,” he said, grabbing me from under my arms to lift me back to my feet. “They just think you’re their spiritual leader or something…”

“I heard,” I told him. “They must be here because of that boy that spotted me.”

Brandon seemed lost for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

“What is it, sweetheart?” I wondered.

“Maybe this is actually good…” he suggested.

“What? Why would this be good, Brandon? They’re invading our space!”

“Because it means extra protection for you and our future child.” When he said this, something clicked in me. I realized that he was right. Up until now, the duty of protecting me had fallen upon his shoulders and his alone. As wonderful as our solitude had been, at least now the burden of this job could be shared, split amongst others.

“I guess you’re right,” I sighed deeply. “But I prefer our quiet life alone, just us. We’ve been so happy the last couple of months. I don’t want any extra men interrupting our life.”

“I don’t either,” he breathed. After a moment of silence, I deliberated, letting this situation sink in.

“I mean,” I said thinking out loud, “at least we’d be safer if any Estrian guards were to discover me and seek to take me away from you. They want to unite me with the king. It’s just…”

“That won’t happen,” Brandon stated adamantly, pulling me into his arms. “As long as I’m breathing, that won’t happen.”

“But that’s also what I fear…”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I explained, gazing up at him from under my lashes.

“Don’t worry about me, Mary. I was a member of the royal guard. I can take care of myself.”

“I know but – ” he cut me off, placing a finger to my lips.

“I’m here, Mary. I’m fine, understand?” he released his finger and I bit my lip before nodding in response. Still, a dominant part of me worried for him.

The presence of my worshipers caused a major rift to our usual routine that day. I felt uneasy about stepping outside so I kept to myself inside the cottage. Brandon also remained inside but occupied himself, working on the crib that he had just started constructing. I sprawled across the bed, bored.

The men outside started chanting my name, beckoning me to come out and greet them. Brandon turned around from his project to gaze at me from under his lashes almost pleadingly. He appeared saddened.

“I guess I’m forced to share you,” he said.

“You still think it’s good that they’re here?” I questioned.

“Ugh, I don’t know.”

I arose from the bed to walk over and wrap my arms around him for comfort.

“Should I go out there?” I wondered, mainly because I worried they might try to break down the door and enter with force.

“I’d prefer that you do not. However, I’m also not going to ask you to stay in here forever. You don’t deserve to be locked away in another tower. Plus, they might not take no for an answer.”

“I don’t want to go out there,” I told him.

“I know you don’t.”

“High and mighty, Queen Mary of Baylin, please grace us with your presence! We are your humble servants!” They chanted. I suddenly felt uneasy in my stomach and liquid was beginning to bubble up in my throat but this had nothing to do with the situation outside. This was different. Oh no, I thought horrifyingly, morning sickness. I had been told that this was a normal process for pregnant women but did not know when it typically occurred. I hadn’t expected this to overwhelm me so soon. What was I to do? I couldn’t vomit inside. I placed my hand over my mouth and tried to swallow it down but the feeling was too strong. Oh, no! Why now?

“Oh, God,” I croaked.

“What is it, dear?” Brandon worried. I darted outside to a cheering crowd that was ecstatic only to witness as I vomited. The bile spread embarrassingly across the ground in front of them. My face burned with humiliation. What a way to make a first impression. Brandon flocked to my side having seen what had just happened.

“Oh, dear God! She has fallen ill!” one of the many men shouted.

“Oh, no, she caught the plague! Our last woman will die! All is lost!” screamed another, almost stirring panic amongst the rest. Brandon rubbed my back soothingly, chuckling to himself wryly at the others.

“Why do you find humor in this?” One man asked Brandon angrily.

“My fellow men, please be easy for there is no reason to fret. My wife is suffering from a common condition,” Brandon explained. The crowd seemed to calm from this.

“Pray, tell us, is she with child?” one asked hopefully. Brandon nodded in response.

“Praise God!” they all cheered. The men erupted in excited chatter.

“Oh let us pray for daughters to be delivered from Mary’s womb!” I heard many of them sing and then they clustered into groups, gathering in prayer. Before the outbreak of the plague, the delivery of healthy boys was once considered a woman’s greatest contribution in life. It was a little strange though understandable that this dynamic had shifted and I was now encouraged to produce girls. Still, I felt uncomfortable that my womb was the center of everyone’s discussion.

“God bless you Mary!” someone else shouted, as though my pregnancy were a direct gift to him. I wanted to crawl back inside the cottage and curl myself into a defensive fetal position against the embarrassment of all the attention.

The presence of the men was disrupting in the following couple of days. I wasn’t free to go about my usual routine without having eyes focused on me constantly. I did not wish to be worshiped. Perhaps some women would have basked in the attention if they had been in my position but I never asked for followers. I desired a simple life like the one in which I was raised. I did not wish to be anyone’s queen. Brandon and I shared compatibility in this area. I knew he missed our peace as much as I did. He tolerated the religious group for the sake of my protection and that of our expected child.

“Gentlemen, I’m fine here. Do you mind?” I hinted before undressing to wash myself in the brook. Brandon flocked to my side, shedding his shirt to join me for a swim. He flashed the men an ominous glare, warning them to steer away. They reluctantly turned their backs to walk away from us. I could tell by their icy glares that they were jealous of Brandon but they tolerated his claim over me as long as I desired it. As far as I was concerned, they didn’t have a say in the matter. Brandon was my choice and there was nothing that could be done about that.

Within less than a week, twenty tents turned to fifty and fifty became a hundred. Not all of the men were peasants. Some were knights and servants who had escaped the castle to join in what they called “The Rebel Cause.” I guessed that I was quickly becoming the symbol of this rebellion. Soon, Brandon and I’s private dwelling in the woods had become its own camping ground that surrounded our little cottage. Our private dwelling was becoming a figment of the past, replaced by a camp full of religious soldiers.

“I pray you,” the friar came out numerous times to plead everyone in fear, “take down your Baylinian banners. You will all be hanged if you are caught displaying them.” But everyone refused to do listen to him. It seemed that many were more than willing to die for the cause.

“We are Baylinian! We will not be conquered!” They often chanted with pride. As my child was forming in my belly, I worried about the risk that we were all under. There was a positive aspect of having this group stationing around us, however, which was the abundance of food, water and clothing that was provided. They were constantly bringing me gifts out of worship for my unborn child and I. They desired to keep me as comfortable as possible for sake the child that they prayed nightly would be a girl. Brandon had mixed feelings about all of this. For one, he seemed glad that I was being taken care of and guarded with extra protection. On the other hand, he wanted to be the only one taking care of me and he also seemed uneasy that I was surrounded by so many eligible men.

“I’ve told you many times not to worry. I’m only interested in you,” I reassured Brandon one evening while we were alone in our bed. Night was the only time we shared alone together, while the others were settled in their tents. Brandon and I usually relished any chance of being alone since it was an uncommon occurrence as of late. On this night, however, Brandon did not wish to show me affection. He rested on the edge of the bed, keeping away from me. It was evident that he was starting to grow increasingly more agitated by the day. His irritation seemed easily fueled. I scooted closer, trying to curl up next to him when he sharply pulled away from me. “What is it? Talk to me,” I urged him.

“Why did you choose me?” he wondered aloud.

“Because I love you,” I insisted.

“You can have any man you want. Why me?”

“You’re special,” I pushed.

“I fear that you will grow tired of me and desire another,” he explained. “Nothing is stopping you from doing so. You have so many choices in the palm of your hand…” A tear was released from one of his eyes as he considered this. “How can I compete with the world?”

“I have your child in my belly,” I reminded him.

“That won’t be enough. How can I be sure that the next child in your belly will be mine?” he deliberated.

“I only want you,” was all I knew to say to reassure him. It didn’t seem to help.

“I only want you,” I repeated when he remained silent. He continued to remain cold and distant that night until he fell asleep. I wished there was more I could do to prove my loyalty to him.

Brandon was angered again one afternoon when a group of men decided to help with completing the construction of our cottage. I was puzzled over his mood and why Brandon wasn’t more thankful for the assistance. After all, they were improving it, adding additional rooms. What could be wrong with that? While they were hammering outside, I sat with Brandon at our newly constructed dining table and asked Brandon why he was so hot about receiving help.

“Because, Mary, the cottage is my project. This is my domain and I am the man of this dwelling, not them!”

“But sweetheart,” I pushed, reaching for his hand, “they only desire to help.”

“I don’t want their help,” he barked. “I miss our life together, our blissful solitude.” I felt a strong wave of empathy wash over me. This wasn’t easy for either of us.

“I know,” I told him, “I do too.”

He stood up from his chair and wrapped his arms around me from behind. He pressed his lips to the top of my head and kissed it, the first sign of affection I had received from him in days. I took advantage of the moment, looking up towards him so that my lips made contact with his. I clutched him and kissed him feverishly. I desired in that moment to express my love and devotion to him. I wanted to reassure him that he was the man of my life and that there were no others. I pulled him toward our bed and he willingly obliged. We then rolled around together while I wrapped my legs around him, pressing my body to his.

“No,” he said, stopping us. I looked at him, puzzled and disappointed. “We can’t for sake of the baby,” he reminded me. I bit my lip, disappointed but I understood. I sighed deeply before releasing my grip from around him.

The men insisted that Brandon and I join them around a bonfire later that evening while the sun was setting passed the trees. They recited a prayer on my behalf, thanking God for my survival from the plague and wishing for the child in my womb to be born a girl who is also resistant to the plague. I think Brandon noticed when they did not include him in their prayer. The men then passed around some venison for us to eat. Brandon ate the meal reluctantly, flustered that he was not the one to hunt it and provide for us. I was beginning to feel a hint of agitation with him for not being more appreciative.

“I am glad we are all here,” stated an older man who introduced himself as Henry. His gaze flashed to me. “I think it is vitally important that we include Mary in our discussions since our world’s dire circumstance pertains to her. She may be a woman but I can tell that she has strength in her blood.” The glow of the fire enhanced the solemn expression on Henry’s face as he spoke, creating a dramatic effect. The other men also circled around the fire, listening to him intently, their leader. Brandon was sitting beside me, brooding over his food. I uneasily had to admit to myself that this meat was more tender and delicious than the meals that Brandon had supplied when he was the sole provider.

“Ever since the plague, we have all lost loved ones,” continued Henry. “I, myself, lost my dear wife and my daughter. Let us take a moment of silence to honor the memories of our fallen women.”

For a long minute, the only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fire as it demolished the wood in a pit surrounded by a circle of stones. I thought about how I had not lost any women at all. My mother was the only other woman in my family aside from myself but she had died in childbirth when she delivered me, my father’s youngest child. Thus, I never knew her. In the silence, I decided to commemorate my father and brothers instead since they gave their lives trying to shield me from the disaster of the world around us. After the moment of silence commenced, Henry continued his speech.

“Our lost women did not die in vein. Their everlasting presence remains in our hearts, nourishing us and maintaining our strength. It is my opinion that Mary’s survival as a Baylinian woman is a sure sign from God that our kingdom is on the side of the angels. Estria is a vile toxin, invading our land.”

“Estrian scum!” the others shouted in agreement.

“The Estrians might have taken our land for now but they cannot endure whilst we have the last remaining woman in our keeping.” The crowd of men erupted in a roaring cheer, the Baylin spirit still strong. Everyone seemed in high spirits with the exception of Brandon who still seemed to be glowering down at his meal. Henry sauntered around the fire, circling it until he was standing directly in front of me. The others watched him with earnest. His face appeared dark, no longer illuminated by the light of the flames.

“There are many,” he said to me, “who would gladly go to war for you, Mary. I pray you consider, lead our rebellion so that we may retake our land.”

“Mary is with child. I pray you not ask her to take up such a risky endeavor at such a time,” Brandon suddenly cut in, his voice on edge.

“Forgive me,” Henry said, “I did not mean to imply that she do it now. I meant to say after she has delivered the daughter of Baylin.” Anytime it was assumed that I was carrying a girl, I felt uneasy. What if I were to produce a boy instead? Surely this would be a cause for disappointment.

“I will consider it after I have delivered my child,” I told him, purposefully saying the word, “child,” instead of daughter to highlight that the sex of the baby was still questionable. The men cheered at my response, eager for battle. Once Henry had made his proposal to me, he concluded the speech and took his leave. I continued sitting with Brandon, hoping to try and raise his spirits.

“Brandon,” a boy approached him, “I heard that you are quite the handy man. I just wanted to praise your efforts on the cottage for I was told by word of mouth that you built it from a feeble shack.” This seemed to lift his mood slightly so I was grateful for it.

“Oh, well, thank you very much,” Brandon was pleasantly taken off guard by the approach.

“Will you tell me how you managed to do it?” asked the boy.

“Yes, of course!” Brandon suddenly delighted. When he left me alone for a few minutes to walk and talk with the boy about his accomplishment, I noticed a pair of piercing blue eyes gazing intently at me from the other side of the flames. He was tall with broad shoulders and big arms. He had thick, copper hair that fell in strands across his forehead. He was wearing stockings and a tunic just like the rest of them. When Brandon was far enough away, he sauntered over to boldly take a seat in his place by my side.

“Hello, Mary,” he greeted.

“Umm… hello,” I stuttered. He was so handsome and I felt a little guilty since my husband was not present while he was sitting so close to me now.

“My name is Edward,” he introduced, ducking his head in a slight bow.

“It’s a pleasure,” I responded politely.

“You’re very beautiful, Mary,” he whispered low so that only I could hear. The other men who were gathered around the fire occasionally glanced in our direction. My heart pounded nervously. Why did I feel a tingling sensation through my body upon hearing Edward speak in this manner? Did I actually take pleasure in his compliment? Was it wrong that I liked the way he was looking at me now?

“Umm… thank you,” was all I could manage. He scooted closer, sending my heart into overdrive. I should have responded by scooting away but for some reason, I didn’t want to. Why did I have a tendency to fall so hastily into a state of deep liking?

“I know you already have a husband,” he spoke quietly, “but, given the situation that our world is under, I think that you should consider having more than one man in your life.” I was taken aback by these words.

“What? You are speaking madness!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed. His attractive face was only an inch away from my own. He smelled like honey. For a moment, he was almost tempting… almost. I shook my head, erasing these thoughts. No, I thought firmly to myself, I am married.

“I don’t want more than one man in my life. I desire only Brandon, my husband.”

“Are you sure?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow. When he did this he looked very appealing. I swallowed before answering.

“Yes,” I croaked. He chuckled, seeming unconvinced.

“Well, let me tell you something, Mary. You’re very young and you literally have every alternative presented before you. You are in the luckiest position in the world,” his eyes turned to Brandon who was still in conversation with the boy, joined by a group of other men. “He seems to possess a great deal of insecurity. You’ll soon grow tired of him.”

His words provoked anger within me, perhaps because part of me knew there was some truth behind them.

“You are too confident,” I accused. He shook his head with a smug expression.

“No, trust me. You will and when you do, I will be waiting in the woodwork.”

“How dare you? I’m carrying his child!”

“It doesn’t matter. Curiosity will inevitably take over.” He then leaned in and whispered boldly in my ear, “I bet you’ll want to carry my child next.”

I shot up from my seat, my hands clenched into tight fists. I was furious. How dare he say such a thing?

“You just wait and see,” he finished with a laugh before standing up to walk away. I sat back down and crossed my arms, enraged.

“Hateful man!” I spat. Brandon left the conversation to rejoin me then, taking his place back beside me.

“What’s wrong, Mary? You seem flustered. Did someone say something to you?”

“Nothing,” I lied. He didn’t need to know. Brandon had already been uneasy as of late and I didn’t want to worsen it. He was, however, really talented at reading my facial expressions.

“No, something is wrong. What is it, Mary? Is it that guy who was just sitting by you?” He stared after Edward who was looking toward us smiling from about twenty feet away. I was surprised by Brandon’s power of observation. I hadn’t thought that he had noticed the man sitting next to me. I guessed that he had eyes at the back of his head, especially when it came to other men around me. “What did he say to you, Mary?” When I didn’t answer, this infuriated him. He stood up and charged towards Edward.

“No! Brandon, don’t!”

I chased after him, pulling on his shirt to try to stop him but he was too strong and easily able to resist my force. He shoved Edward by the shoulder, initiating confrontation. The surrounding men suddenly looked to them, watching with increasing excitement.

“Fight!” they cheered.

“No!” I protested.

“What did you say to my wife?” Brandon demanded to know.

“Nothing that she didn’t want me to say to her,” Edward replied simply, seeming to be welcoming a fight with him. The two men stood with their faces about an inch apart from one another, an aggressive stance.

“Please don’t fight!” I cried but I was ignored.

“You think you’re a better man than I?” Brandon challenged, snarling with his teeth.

“I don’t think you can satisfy her the way that I could,” Edward replied boldly, fueling the raging fire that Brandon already contained inside of him.

“Oh!” the spectators gasped laughingly.

Brandon rolled up his sleeves, clenching his hands into tight fists. Edward did the same. The other men started placing bets.

“50 Baylinian crowns on Edward!” shouted one.

“Brandon for me!” called out another. They cheered even more excitedly as Edward and Brandon began circling one another, posed for a fight. I looked to Brandon pleadingly. He glanced at me only briefly but his eyes were dark and heavily focused ominously on Edward.

“Are you sure you want to fight with me?”

“I’m a third generation soldier,” Edward scoffed, “I was born to fight.”

Edward took the first swing at Brandon and then Brandon tackled him to the ground. The men rolled with each other across the grass until they hit someone’s tent. Then they sprung back to their feet and continued throwing punches while everyone else stood around, encouraging them to keep fighting. I looked around trying to find a way to stop it. At the right moment, I rushed between them before they could throw another punch.

“Stop!” I screeched. I was standing with my back to Brandon defensively while facing Edward. Edward’s nose was bleeding and the blood was dripping toward his mouth. “If you hurt Brandon, you hurt me.” I looked around to everyone else who was watching. “That goes for any of you!”

“Let them fight!” someone shouted, adding to my exasperation.

“I am your queen and I demand the fighting to cease at once! Both of you are too hot!” I asserted, turning to Brandon. Brandon took a breath, inhaling and exhaling heavily. I could see in his face that he was slowly cooling. His cheeks were less flushed than before. “As you love me, as you all love me, do as I command!” I shouted, looking to all the surrounding faces. “Cool off at once. If there is to be entertainment, it must not be at my husband’s expense.”

“It seems that Brandon has his wife fighting his battles for him,” Edward laughed while the others joined in.

“I’m only stopping the fight for my wife’s sake. I do not wish to cause her too much exertion with my child in her belly. But this isn’t over,” Brandon growled at Edward through gritted teeth.

“I don’t expect it to be over,” Edward antagonized.

I examined Brandon’s face while we were alone together in our bed later that night after the catastrophe of the bonfire. He was purple along his cheekbones and around one of his eyes. His lip was also cut. They had one hell of a fight, I thought.

“Edward was asking for it. He’s too bold with you. I don’t like it.”

“I know but I don’t want you to fight.”

“Do you like him, Mary? He seems to think you do.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because he said he didn’t tell you anything that you didn’t want him to. Whatever that means…”

“He was pulling your leg, egging you on,” I reasoned.

“Yeah but still…” I placed my hand carefully to his bruised face. He flinched away from my touch. “Just be honest with me. Do you like him or not?” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Of course not. I love only you. You know that.”

“Forgive me, my love. My actions tonight were inexcusable. It’s just that I have been through a similar situation in my past.” He paused, sighing heavily. I waited for him to continue. “I once courted another woman for a short while before the plague took her. I had intentions to marry her before she cheated on me with another man. I suppose the scars from that experience still linger within me.”

Brandon’s story clicked in my mind. It now made more sense to me why he had been acting so on edge as of late. I supposed that in our situation, it would only be natural for Brandon to feel insecure and jealous. Like Edward had said, I had every alternative presented before me. Two kingdoms worth of men were practically within my grasp. It was an unfair position for my partner to take part in, especially when he had such a past. Brandon probably felt belittled as a man. I pressed my lips warmly to his forehead, kissing him softly so as not to harm his bruised skin. He was as sensitive on the outside now as he was within.

“I realize that I have not been very pleasant lately,” he whispered to me.

“You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” I placed his hand lovingly over my abdomen and added, “She forgives you too.”

He smiled widely at that.

“You really think it’s a girl?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “But I do know that she already loves her father.” Brandon beamed at me, his eyes bright over the tenderness of my words. He bent down to lean his cheek against my bulging stomach.

“I love you too,” he cooed to her. He spent the rest of the evening whispering sweet nothings to my belly. Not yet born and she was already monopolizing his attention. I suspected that I was going to have to share Brandon soon enough.

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