The Heavy Crown
Bath, England - May 1140
It was an odd day in many respects. One might assume a royal wedding to be the talk of the entire realm and the celebrations surrounding it to be full of pomp and circumstance. This did have some flavor of that but it was subdued. Every great Lord was invited and none had refused such was the match being made between the King and his young bride of Lancaster. Even Prince Eadgar had traveled from Gelre to witness his uncle’s nuptials. And yet, the great hall did not buzz as it might for such an occasion. Every eye did seem to be on the fifty eight year old Eadward and the sixteen year old Margaret.
Eadward sensed it acutely and took great pains to be chivalrous to the young girl that could easily be his own granddaughter. He had not wished a grand ceremony though it would have been poor practice to have anyone other than Archbishop Rædwulf of Canterbury wed them. The feast itself was less of an affair than it might have been so as to downplay the awkwardness. True, the food was sumptuous so as to please his Lords, but Eadward had suggested a strict flow of wine and ale be considered so no one might get too drunk such that they might say something to cause embarrassment for his new wife...or himself for that matter.
The minstrels played less bawdy tunes and the dancing was kept to a minimum while Eadward found conversation with young Margaret sparing. She was pleasant enough and duly deferential to the King...perhaps too much so. She did nod and smile when spoken to but kept to her shared trencher and did not overindulge in her drink. In short, she was very quiet and this also disappointed Eadward. He was not sure what he had expected, but it was not this.
His son Æthelric and his daughters Wynnflæd and Hereswith had been most kind to Margaret, though Wynnflæd did show a spot of haughtiness when Hereswith had been placed closer to the bride due to her marriage with the Lord Chancellor. Yet none had shown a disfavor to the young girl that was now to be their step-mother. Of course, it was Hereswith too that doted on the girl as she dressed and tried to get Hextilda to help boost Margaret’s spirits with a giggle when she seemed out of sorts. There was a happiness in that at the least.
Yet looking around the hall, he saw the timid smiles upon his Lords and Ladies. None with a skewed eye, but some sure question sat in their gazes he was certain of it. A turn showed to him a tilt of the head by the Lady Ada as she herself did smile and hold up her cup. It was strange to him that of all the curious gazes he considered, hers was the only one that was not so. Ada had been most charming and eloquent as she spoke on her sister during the feast and praised King Eadward as the finest man she might ever imagine to wed her younger sister. Even the dreaded name Wulfrun was boasted as ever loving of the King and might readily cheer at such a happenstance.
A lie, he knew. But Ada had been convincing and Eadward continued to watch her as she sat with her young husband Lord Eadric of Kent. They seemed pleased with each other and touched every now and then in a loving way. What might have been, he thought to himself. And then he considered the other...what had been. Married off to his brother at the same age as her younger sister was now...only to be met by her husband’s death not long after when she knew him not at all. A short and sad marriage by all accounts. Yet even then, most did not scoff. Uhtræd was the bold one. He might do as he pleased.
Eadward took a drink of his ale before turning to smile to his new young wife and tried to push that jealousy away. Besides, Ada had even made a point to show forth with a gift for the King’s wedding. Multiple gifts, at that. There had been no quarrel about the dowry and every piece was accounted for as promised. Further she had proffered a fine set of silver plate used by her great-grandfather Eadwin so that both her sister and the King would be served in the Mercian style, as she called it. Finally, she had called forth her Earl of Derby to relate to the King his final gift of a victory over rebellion to those parts.
All in all, it was a fine showing by the Lady of Lancaster and Eadward wondered why she of all people might be the only one of his great Lords to offer such grace at this time? None dared offend, yet none also showered them both with such great effect. Even his own brother Beorhtmaer had been somewhat standoffish about the whole thing. Not a poor word said...but a look. One he knew only too well. And even Beo’s sons...Thurfrith and Wihtræd both had offered their congratulations but there remained something behind their eyes...as if it might seem offensive to them in some way. They did smile but beyond that remained not their usual joviality.
A turn to his right showed him Lord Berold, perhaps his most trusted counselor. Yet even he was close in discussion with his older brother the Duke of Flanders whom Eadward knew that Berold disliked with intensity. Why was he not with his friend Lord Harold who sat quietly next to Hereswith at the now even as she jabbered away? It was all rather strange. A day that should be jubilant was seemingly one of mere course and all actors were simply playing out their parts.
Eadward took another drink and thought about his late wife Judith. He wondered if this was what she had in mind when she tasked him to marry once more? Likely not and was reminded of it even further as he looked towards Lord Harold and his daughter as they sat near to their young ward, the little Duchess of York Cynethryth. A compromise match that was no simple thing in the making as Judith had been steadfast about this young woman that now sat to his own side. It was Margaret that Judith had wished for her son Æthelric and now, Eadward had married her for himself. There was irony in it all. If there was self pity, Eadward tried to put that too from his mind as he kept a fine smile for all to see, yet it lingered under the surface and he was only saved when his nephew from Germany stood to speak.
“I fear that I do not come bearing all of these fine gifts offered by your other Lords, Your Grace,” Eadgar looked out to the hall before turning back to the King, “Yet I did so wish to be here for this day and can offer you at the least one passable trinket.”
All eyes in the hall were upon the Prince at this time and he did not have the knowledge that they did when he pressed forward, “I did so respect the late Queen as she was so very kind and generous. I may only hope that your new lovely bride is so honorific and as I look upon her, I cannot see how that might ever be untrue.”
Margaret offered a polite bow of her head but Eadward raised a brow as he looked out to the hall and some few did the same in return. Eadgar did not sense his faux pas at mentioning the late Judith and pressed forward, “I would ever wish a Lady so lovely as this to begin her reign as Queen with nothing but peace so I do present to you from my brother, and the son of yours, a lasting peace in Germany, Your Grace. My father’s son does send his respects and many thanks for your great hardships during this long time and would have you know that the struggle is now won. He wishes you nothing but happiness in this new life, Your Grace, and I would echo that a thousand times.”
Rather than a cheer, there was a subdued applause within the hall but Eadward followed gamely, “You do me more honor, my Lord, by standing before me now and at this time than anything other. Your words do bring us both good cheer...and us all. I thank you and England does as well. Do not leave us before we have chance to speak more privately as I do wish to send great words of cheer to my nephew Oscytel in Meissen.”
There were some claps in the hall for the clever diplomacy, but Eadward sat once more with a tired visage as he kept a smile to his German nephew. He looked over to his new young wife and she allowed a yawn herself as the hour did grow late. Where in the past and in other circumstances, there might have been great cheer at this moment with many chanting all about the bedding, all knew that it was not to be tonight. Eadward merely held a hand up as he stood once more and gestured to the door of the hall leading towards his bedchamber.
“I am sorry not to give you a show this night, my Lords, but I do think that my Lady wife be tired and there be no need for...the other.”
There was not a soul in the hall that was sad of it. Least of all Margaret as she smiled and stood as well. With a nod towards the King, she was led off by her new ladies and he moved to follow but then stopped once more to look out upon the crowd before him, “You do honor us both this day, my Lords...my Ladies...and I am most pleased. We have now a Queen of England once more, and I do think we shall all honor her in every way.”
Eadward did not wait to judge their faces as he moved from the hall but once away, he wondered. Were those the right words? All of his life, it had been the very thing that made him who he was. Those very precise words. But this day was so odd...so...unnatural. As he made his way to his chambers he kept the thought and even upon entering, he allowed his grooms and valets their work as he kept his mind to the other. It was only when she entered the room that he let the thought go and looked upon her as she was.
Her ladies kept hovering around her as the King stood tall and his own men began to back away and waited for their dismissal. Eadward showed a nod and Margaret allowed them to pull away her covering robe to allow for her sheer shift to show her nubile young body beneath it. He quickly snapped his fingers and all attendants made haste to leave them alone as Eadward stepped back in some admiration.
Margaret was of middling height but showed some weight to her waist. Her breasts seemed full under the slight gown but her legs were slightly stunted. She kept her head down as if she were being judged and that was indeed what was occurring but Eadward finally stepped to her and tried to hold at her trembling hand.
“I know not what to call you...my dear,” Eadward offered with a gentle smile, “Should it be so formal as Margaret...or might you prefer Meg?”
She finally raised her head to show him deep brown eyes and lashes that beat quickly, “You might call me whatever you like...Your Grace.”
“You might wish for something more tender,” he tried to be kind, “Mayhap Eadward...or Ned, if you wish. Please...”
Margaret instinctively offered a quick curtsy, “You are my King, Your Grace. That is all I may know.”
“And my Lady...” Eadward shifted to pull her a bit closer, “...you are now my Queen.”
She was uncertain at first and pulled away as she blushed without saying a word. Yet her slight nod did allow Eadward a fresh chance as he took a step towards her and reached out to hold her hand once more. It remained trembling, so he pulled his other to rest on top and offered a gentle smile, “You need not be afraid, dear Meg. I have been blessed to have three sisters and two daughters who have surely felt exactly as you do now...”
Margaret was cautious as she looked up to him and asked with reticence, “And your Lady wife?”
That was uncomfortable but Eadward tried to hold his smile, “Is that what does concern you? You are now my wife, dear girl for I was rather unlucky to see my late Judith pass on to the Lord.”
“I mean...” she questioned with her eyes and spoke softly, “...that you were married to her at a young age...were you not?”
“Yea, that is truth,” Eadward was unsure of her query.
Margaret tried to formulate the right words, “And...did she find you...gentle?”
“I pray that she did,” Eadward held back a grin as he now understood her concern, “Yet only the Lord Almighty does know as she never did confide such worries to me.”
With a stretch, the new young Queen lifted to her toes and offered Eadward a small kiss upon his chin. It startled Eadward and he nearly pulled back but did not wish her any alarm so he leaned forward and returned the gesture to her forehead. Margaret then offered a smile of her own and stepped back from the King to unlace the top of her shift, allowing it to fall away and leaving herself fully vulnerable. Eadward could only stand there, seemingly frozen in place with a look of surprise on his face that unnerved her.
“Do I...” Margaret suddenly found a worried look, “...do I disappoint Your Grace?”
Eadward slowly shook his head from side to side as he found a slight grin, “Not in a million years do I think you may offer such, dear Meg. Never was an old man like myself ever so pleased to be graced by the likes of your lovely spirit and form. And I do tell you, my Queen...my name is Eadward.”
Margaret looked to him with slightly sad eyes but a smile nonetheless, “Then I shall do my duty as such...Eadward.”
All of the haunting eyes, pressing concerns and harsh scrutiny of the day seemed to fall away as he bent to give her a sensitive kiss to the lips and one she tentatively accepted at first before warmly embracing it. This one would be different he could tell instantly in the touch and though she might never...would never...be what he had seen and felt before…
Passing strange that such an odd coupling should feel so right and proper as it did at that moment. Yet all of their worries seemed to melt as they both did tenderly within each others arms.
