1 Chapter 1: The Virgin Widow
It’s hard to imagine being a widow at twenty-one—a virgin widow at that.
But as his mother, Caystance Bokstein, and three younger sisters, Francine, Carla and Anna, led me to his pyre, torch in hand, I came to understand that is exactly what I was.
My husband’s features in life made him a handsome man. Even without being the eldest in the Bokstien line, his broad shoulders and wide chest, his dark blond hair cropped short and his mesmerizing hazel eyes made him bedtime favorite to many tavern women in the village.
Then again, having a fortune to spill all over them must have sweetened the prospects.
In death, Marius Bokstein’s image reflected the nature of the man inside; cold, hard, grey, and unfeeling. Happy to be cruel to the weakest in his family.
The weakest being me, his wife. But nobody else seemed to see that.
As his widow, it is my right to light the pyre and send him on his warrior’s journey into the heavens. The dark veil over my face hid any betrayal of my true feelings of relief that he was gone and hopes his afterlife landed him anywhere but the heavens.
I placed the torch into the middle of the stacked wood branches just beneath him and watched the flames take over his body. I took several steps back as he burned and with him the cruelty, the beatings, the harsh words, and the humiliation of the past six months. But also any security I had of maintaining a roof over my head and food in my belly.
His mother sobbed and his sisters sniffled, but it was his pregnant mistress that took up all the attention once his body became fully engulfed.
“Why Marius? Why did you leave me!?!” she wailed.
I had half a heart to try and comfort the woman who was four years my senior and had never been good enough for Marius’s mother until he died without placing a baby in me as his heir. His mother blamed me, but I wasn’t too young to know if he’d wanted me to have his baby, he’d have slept with me instead of Chantal and a number of other tavern women once in a while.
I’m certain he thought he had more time.
‘If you’re not showing with child in the next month, Sasha, you can pack your bags and go back to your father.’ His mother’s words plagued me as I looked at Chantal’s swollen abdomen.
The only thing worse than a husband that doesn’t love and won’t touch you is a father that sold you to his cruel family and could sell you to someone even worse. At least as Marius’ widow with a child I’d be left alone. As another man’s property…
I couldn’t see that I had any other option as I hurried through the Hamstead Village under a hooded cloak in the middle of night, my face hidden behind black lace. My destination being the war prison. Holding a bag of my husband’s coin in my hand and a promise of more for guards who agreed to allow me access to the prisoners captured during the same battle in which my husband fell.
“What for?” one asked.
“Does it matter?” I replied, tossing him the bag of coins.
“Which one?” the other guard asked with a grunt.
I took my time going from cell to cell, the guards opened each door and I examined heavily sedated broken and bloody men. I felt my heart sink as one after the other seemed unfit and undesirable. And then one caught my eye.
Chained alone in his room at the very end of the row, the prisoner sat against the wall. Even seated it was apparent that he was much cleaner than the rest of them.
“Why is he chained up?” I asked. “None of the other prisoners are.”
“The village magistrate ordered those pretty silver bracelets for him specially. The sedative doesn’t last as long on him as the rest.”
“I see… How far can he move?” I asked.
“He can reach about halfway. I have the keys to those right here on my belt,” he pointed. “I locked him up tight myself.”
I stepped into the room and stopped halfway. “Hello.” I took another step closer.
“Careful!” a guard yelled and then laughed as I jumped in reaction. “He may bite.”
The prisoner began to stir awake.
Rolling my eyes in annoyance, I stepped even closer. Reaching towards the prisoner, I shook his shoulder. His skin was tight and smooth over his relaxed muscles. He mumbled something in a language I’d never heard before.
“Are you sure he’s a prisoner of battle?” I asked, confused.
“He’s in here ain’t it?” came the reply.
The prisoner’s long golden hair hung shaggy on either side of his face as he worked against the sedative to lift his head. He opened his eyes and shot their golden light into mine. Time stood still in the seconds that he fought to focus on me. My breath caught in my chest and the pace of my heart rate quickened. I felt a pulling in the center of me that nearly threatened to tear me apart with its impact. And then he closed his eyes and slumped over into sleep once again.
Immediately, I knew this would be the man I wanted to put a baby in me.
“I’ll have this one,” I said hastily as I backed out of his cell. "Keep him chained but not sedated. I’ll come each night at midnight and return home before dawn each day.”
The following morning, I took a trip to breakfast with Caystance and her daughters .
“I received word from Marius’s uncle today,” she began as I took a seat with them at the table. "He wants to know when to come to meet the new Master Bokstein.”
“It’s still early,” I said, resting a hand on my abdomen. “He should be here by next summer.”
“That man won’t wait that long to come. I’m sorry, but if there is no heir, Marius’s uncle will have claim to the title and fortune. We will all be penniless. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”
“No, Mother Caystance. You will see, my child will save us from all of that.”
“See that it’s true. I hate to see my son’s heir come from the belly of that tavern woman, but better a tavern woman’s belly than no belly at all,” she commented.
It didn’t seem to matter that the tavern woman could have been carrying any other lonely tavern dweller’s child. If I didn’t come up pregnant, she’d have my spot and I’d be out on my own.
“You’re still young and beautiful,” she tried to console me before I left, letting me know that she didn’t have much faith in the baby I promised.
