Keller awoke well before dawn the next day, startling himself awake because he had been sleeping so deeply that, for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. He awoke with Chrystobel in his arms, his face buried in the back of her head, and in his disorientation it took him several long moments to not only place the room but the woman in his arms. It was his wife, and he was sleeping in the bed she shared with her sister.
Lifting his head carefully, he looked around the chamber. It was dark, with the fire reduced to glowing embers, and it was still very dark outside and very quiet, so he assumed it was well before the soldiers roused for the morning shift. His gaze moved to Chrystobel, sleeping so peacefully against him, and he smiled faintly as he thought back to their love making. It had been so sweet and delicious, and as he lingered on it, he realized that the event had taken him to an entirely new level of emotion. He had been fond of Chrystobel before, but now… there was something more to it. Kissing her exposed shoulder very, very carefully, he cautiously disengaged himself from her and silently went in search of his clothing.
He found his breeches, boots, and padded tunic, quietly pulling them on as he moved for the chamber door. Next to the door, in a pile, he could see his mail and armor along with his broadsword in its scabbard. When he picked up the hauberk, he noticed that it had rusted somewhat because he hadn’t had it cleaned immediately. Collecting everything into his big arms, he unbolted the door with great stealth and slipped from the chamber.
As he stood on the landing outside of Chrystobel’s door, he was curious where Izlyn slept since the girl was so attached to her sister. Undoubtedly she returned last night to sleep in her chamber and, finding it bolted, sought out another safe haven to sleep in. He should have been more concerned about the girl and felt badly that he hadn’t considered her once he finally had his new wife all to himself. On a hunch, he quietly opened the door across the hall, the master’s chamber that Chrystobel had cleaned out for their use, and poked his head in. It was dark in the room but he could clearly see a small figure on the bed. Taking a few steps into the chamber, he recognized Izlyn all wrapped up in a heavy coverlet with an old servant sleeping on the floor at her feet. Smiling faintly at the girl, and glad she was sleeping somewhere safe, he slipped from the room and down to the first floor below.
The rain from the previous night had let up and, as he emerged into the bailey, the sky above was bright with stars. He headed towards the two-storied gatehouse where there seemed to be some activity going on as the guards walked their posts for the night. He was still holding his hauberk and mail coat when he entered the guard house and managed to locate two young squires who were sleeping on the floor. The boys had come in with Gart and Rhys, but Keller confiscated them to clean his mail while he went about his duties of arranging an escort for the funeral mass. One thing in particular he had to do was seek out George to see if a coffin had been made.
So it was busy work in that brief hour before dawn and, somewhere in that hour, he’d managed to find George, whom he put in charge of loading Trevyn d’Einen into his coffin, and Gart, who was just coming out of the keep as the eastern sky began to turn shades of blue and pink. Keller and Gart had a brief conversation about the agenda for the day and when Keller mentioned heading over to the kitchen to ensure the morning meal was being prepared, Gart informed him about the cook’s death the day before. Gart also mentioned his concern about the death and, together, the two of them headed over to the kitchen where Keller was shown the secret stairs that led down to the concealed entry in the gorge, the very stairs were the cook allegedly met her death.
Keller very quickly decided he didn’t like that entry in the least and left Gart behind in the kitchens to figure out a way to either plug it or protect it. Keller didn’t want to leave the castle, thinking it was well protected when, in fact, it had an Achilles’ heel.
As Keller returned to the bailey in search of his remaining knights, Rhys and William, who’d had the night watch, came off the battlements and swore they would be able to ride escort for the funeral mass in spite of the fact that they hadn’t slept all night, and Keller took them at their word. In the past, he’d known Wellesbourne to be awake for two straight days and perform flawlessly. The man needed little sleep to function. Keller put Rhys and William in charge of forming the party that would escort Trevyn d’Einen’s coffin into Machynlleth.
With the knights in motion and the escort party forming, Keller headed back into the keep to rouse his wife and her sister. As he mounted the stairs to the first floor, he could hear scurrying above him and his wife’s soft voice. Chrystobel was awake and as he neared the top of the stairs, Izlyn raced from the master’s chamber with something in her arms that looked like a dress or coat. Already, the women were awake and organized. He followed the girl into the smaller chamber where she and her sister were evidently very busy.
It was warm and fragrant in the chamber, with a bright fire in the hearth and two fat tapers lit against the early morning dimness. As Keller stood in the doorway, he found he only had eyes for Chrystobel. Like an angel, she looked radiant and beautiful at this early hour and as he gazed at her, thoughts of the previous night came rolling into his mind again. Although Keller was a worldly man who had seen and experienced more than most, he had never experienced a touch like Chrystobel’s. There was something about her that seemed to strengthen him and weaken him all at the same time. He couldn’t explain it any better than that. All he knew was that, somehow, she had gotten under his skin and he wasn’t the least but sorry about it.
As Keller stood there and stared, Chrystobel caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see her husband standing just inside the door. When their eyes met, she smiled sweetly at the man, giddy as she had never been giddy in her life. She had awoken a short time ago, noticing that Keller was gone but taking a few moments to lay in the covers, warm and cozy, recalling the night before when she’d finally become his wife in the literal sense. Keller had touched her body in ways she’d never imagined possible and even as she thought on it, her cheeks grew warm with the recollection of the giddy pleasure he’d given her. It was an entirely new aspect of life she’d never known to exist.
Once averse to the marriage, now she couldn’t remember when she hadn’t been married and loved every moment of it. Her expression must have given away her thoughts because Keller seemed to have the same warm expression on his face, too.
“Greetings, Lady de Poyer,” he said, his voice low and soft. “You are looking lovely this morn.”
Chrystobel looked down at the dark green surcoat she was wearing, the same one she had worn yesterday.
“Thank you,” she said, a faint blush mottling her cheeks. “And… and you? Are you well this day?”