Departure for Scotland

On that cool July morning the final preparations were being made for the departure of Baron Juniper Whiteblossom and his adopted son Rudolph to the great lands of the Scottish baronage.

On the other hand, starting from the royal palace of Warwick at six in the morning, up to crossing the borders with Scotland and reaching the fortress of Edinburgh would have taken five hours.

So the two would arrive at their destination at eleven in the morning, just an hour before lunch.

The Baron had already warned his bride of the drastic change the night before, of how she could not come with them by order of the princess and of how he should take the baby with him.

Abigail was initially upset by that news, she had cried for a long time and Juniper grieved so much that he swore if there was anything, even the slightest, to take his wife with him, he would immediately do it.

It was a difficult period even for little Rudolph.

He had already opened his eyes to the world, looked at his surroundings, he had already recognised the face of his mother and his presumed father and had just begun to throw his first toothless smiles at them.

Juniper already knew the little one would suffer greatly from the absence of his mother to which he was already accustomed, he might have forgotten her at a certain age but both of them agreed that the little one should leave with his father.

They had no alternative, on the other hand, or to leave the castle or in other ways they would have been beheaded.

In addition, although it had been difficult for Abigail to give up her beloved child, she was sure in Scotland he would be safe or at least better than locked up in walls and used as a hostage.

No, she didn't have to be selfish, she had to give her son freedom, even knowing, perhaps, she would never see him again.

It was half past five, the black, gloomy, almost funereal-looking carriage awaited father and son in the royal courtyard, on the white and contrasting gravel pebbles that covered the huge floor.

Juniper struck twice on the door of the room, where Rudolph was being raised at the time, he was sure Abigail was there giving the last goodbye to her baby.

The sky was dark, covered with grey clouds, it slightly saddened the surroundings.

As the young man opened the door to the room, as expected his wife was sitting there, on the comfortable and woody rocking chair and on her lap, she carried in a white bundle of sheets, the body of her child.

Abigail looked at Rudolph's delicate, sweet face, his little reddened cheeks, his dark red almost auburn hair that make him look so much like Gilbert, his father, his grey eyes.

She looked at him with tears in her eyes, her child was sleeping, unaware of what was happening.

Juniper placed one of his hands on his wife's green dress, as part of his golden curls was being blown by a faint wind.

-Greet him...- the young man calmed her gently placing one of his hands to gently caress the baby's soft cheeks -Abigail, my love, I would love to do something for you...if I could take you with me, with Rudolph, I assure you I would-.

At those words Juniper noticed how transparent tears were falling on the freckled and pale cheeks of the Duchess, which she soon wiped with the back of her hand.

She didn't want to wake up or make her baby nervous so she got ready to place the little warm bundle in her husband's hands.

She smiled, she didn't want to leave a certain impression of her, not to him, not to her baby, so he just pretended.

-Take care of Rudolph for me- her bright green eyes soon met those of the Baron, they sparkled sadness but on the one hand she hoped of a better future for their child.

The hands of the two intertwined, squeezed, touched -I beg you, don't let him miss anything and remind him of me if he forgets -.

Juniper slowly shook his head, smiled falsely, clutching the small bundle to his chest, Rudolph still moaned slightly in his sleep.

He was probably having a bad dream.

-Rudolph will never forget you- the Baron reassured her again, calming his wife as much as possible -he will never have another mother but you-.

At those words Abigail untied her pendant from her neck, the precious pendant representing the red rose, adorned with precious stones and placed it in her husband's hands, she smiled again.

That pendant was the symbol of her family, for generations before her, she wanted him to keep it as a souvenir for him and for her son.