An Uncertain Choice

I knelt before the altar. The coldness of the chapel’s stone floor had penetrated the prayer cushion as if to say I’d prayed long enough for one evening. And yet I couldn’t make myself leave. Not even knowing that my guests were feasting without me on Midsummer’s Eve.

There was something in my heart that demanded I seek God’s guidance — ?even though I’d already made my resolution while Trudy dressed me.

In my chamber, with my nursemaid’s advice echoing the abbot’s, I’d decided to continue the course that had been set out for me these past four years. Why change things now? Not after I’d already planned and prepared for a life in the convent. Not after my soul was at peace with the decision. Not after I was so close to the time when I must go.

What did true love matter anyway? Hadn’t I gotten along just fine without it? And besides, I was looking forward to my life of devotion to God in the convent, wasn’t I? The abbot had already hired laborers to begin clearing land near the monastery to build an abbey. It would become a safe haven for unwanted women, a place I could oversee. It would be an exciting new part of my life.

Certainly, I’d have to move out of the castle. And I wouldn’t be able to take my wardrobe or many of my belongings, except for some of my personal items. But I’d decided that I would use the opportunity to sell many of my possessions so I could give more money to the poor. After all, everything would still be mine. I could do with my things as I pleased, especially when I turned eighteen and could make all the decisions on my own.

And yet . . .

I fingered my long strand of prayer beads and bowed my head lower. No matter my rationalizing, doubts lingered.

In the quietness of the chapel, without Abbot Francis Michael or Trudy or the duke advising me, I could finally hear the whispers within, the still, small voice of God that came when I blocked out everything else and listened for it.

What was he saying?

I couldn’t deny that I’d been interested in the knights who had ridden along with the duke. Or that I was curious about what it might be like to speak with the men and get to know them. And in a deep place, I had to admit I felt longings from time to time to have a family again, to have a husband and children of my own. I’d simply never allowed myself to dwell on such longings. I’d known that to do so would only stir up dissatisfaction with the course set before me. Why think on what I couldn’t change?

But the truth was that I suddenly had the power to change the Vow. At least that’s what the duke claimed. What reason did I have to disregard his words? I trusted him like I would my father. He had no motivation for harming me.

Did I owe it to myself and my parents to participate in the duke’s test before making an irrevocable choice? After all, I wouldn’t want to live the rest of my days in the convent always wondering if I’d made the right decision. If, after the coming month, I failed the test, then I could begin my time as a nun without any doubts. I could embrace my future with a completely devoted heart.

At the clank of metal behind me, I raised my head and peered over my shoulder to the open door of the chapel. There stood the duke in his surcoat, and next to him, covered from head to toe in his plate armor, was one of his three knights.

With a nod at the knight, the duke stepped just outside the doorway so that in the darkness of the hallway his outline showed him standing guard.

After a moment’s hesitation, the young knight started toward the altar, toward me, the steel plates of his armor jangling with each step.

I rose and brushed down my gown, my heart tapping a strange rhythm in anticipation of having a conversation with a man who wasn’t one of my servants or the abbot.

“My lady,” came the whisper of the knight from behind his helmet. “Please forgive me for disturbing your prayers.”

“There’s naught to forgive. I was almost done.”

He stopped several feet away. Though his helmet was raised, in the dim light coming from the candle on the altar, I couldn’t see past the shadows to glimpse his eyes.

“You’re not at the feast along with the others?” I asked, trying to untie my tongue.

“No, my lady. I’ve just returned from visiting the bailiff as well as the sheriff.” He spoke so softly that I had to quiet my thudding heart to hear him. “And I’ve discovered more information about this morning’s torture.”

At his news, my self-consciousness fell away. “You’ve visited my bailiff and sheriff?”