Age of Faith
Episode 6
Lillia Castle, Spring 1153 Lillia Castle was captured, fortunately without losing any lives. From his bed, Uncle Artur had ordered the suspension bridge lowered to receive Duke Henry's troops. Now they were inside, exhaling a foul smell into the hall and voicing their voices to the ceiling. Holding a high chair in the pulpit was Henry himself.
However, it wasn't the excited man who brought Annyn's gaze over and over again. It was the bodyguard sitting at the lower table. The talk in the hall was that, although destined for the monastery, the death of his brothers in the war between Stephen and Henry had made the boy an heir.
From a family strongly opposed to Henry's claims in England, he had been captured by the duke's army for a penny a night while on his way to Wulfen Castle. Such hope must have been his father's that Wulfrith could turn him from a sickly puppy into a wolf, but it wouldn't have come without much effort and pain.
And now that he's going to be detained in Lillia, it probably won't come at all. Annin peeked closer. She was slightly taller than him, who had risen to five feet three inches in the four years after Jonas' death, and her hair was almost as dark as hers.
Not much on the building, because not much on hers. "Mistress," a familiar and warm voice spoke on her elbow. He met Rowan's gaze. Despite the aging years in his eyes, there was something more than he had ever seen.
The man she was about to sit on the English throne had been allowed into Lillia. “Rowan?” "Duke asked for your presence." Henry's gonna see her? During her three hours in Lillia, she did not admit it even though she directed the servants and had done her best to see the mistress of the castle.
Bitter humor attracted him. Lady of the Castle, but behind her chain necklace and mother's bliaut—drawn as Henry walked into Lillia—she wore a tunic and slang. And for that he sweats. He pulled the corset from his moist skin. "I'm worthy?" he asked in a voice that was more hoarse than the scratches four years before. “Secretty men who turned into women.
”Hope there is time to style her messy hair into braids, she breathes into her small chest. "Then to Henry I have to go." He started passing Rowan but stopped. "Pray, hurry up and tell my uncle that I'll see him soon." Hoping that Uncle Artur, who had been bedridden for the past few months, did not let his heart down due to the events below, he crossed the hall.
As more and more people had long sided with Stephen, the following years were made with disappointment for his uncle, though more out of fear of the king who would one day be made by Stephen's son Eustace.
He turned his eyes to Henry. A calmness suitable for a woman, she reminds herself, small steps, small smiles, small movements, small sounds, small talk. While inside, his heart was racing. He should have been born a man. No matter how she tried to Uncle, it wasn't in her to be a woman.
Will that ever happen? If Jonas is still alive, perhaps, but his murder leaves little for the body of the woman he has been given. Lifting up her skirt, she avoided children whose stomachs were covered in Uncle's wine and beer. As he climbed into the pulpit, Henry stopped at the edge of his cup and looked at it with large gray eyes.
As he descended to the bench, Henry observed him with such intensity that he was afraid he was looking under the bliaut and chainse to the tunic, hose, and —He gasped. Inhaling the scent of wine, Henry sat in front. “There is wrong?” Pretending to cough, she wiggled her toes under her skirt. He forgot to replace his worn-out boots with sandals.
Has anyone seen? He slipped his feet under the bench, called out an apologetic smile, and patted her on the neck. "Tickle, that's all." He sat back in the high chair. "You're not ugly, Miss Annyn."
Although his words were unexpected, he maintained an expressionless expression. What response is he looking for? She could agree she wasn't ugly, but she wasn't pretty either. Plain is a better word for someone whose face is mediocre under pale spots, which is *********** not larger than apple parts, which is not, and the range between the waist and hips is almost unchanged.
"Why aren't you married?" She flinched and immediately scolded herself for failing to hide her feelings. Jonas must be disappointed. “ Rest assured, Miss Annyn, even if you are old enough, I will find a suitable husband for you when I become king. Someone who will rule Aillil as he should.
” Although her anger was more on her plan to marry him than freedom allowed, she also did not like to be talked about as if she was an old woman at the age of eight and ten. The old woman did not swing a sword, tilt a quintain, or hunt. And they certainly don't wear men's clothes.
Maybe Henry wouldn't be a good king. He chuckled, and he realized he had revealed himself again. "Ho, you don't like that!" Be careful, he will soon be your king. Still, he couldn't agree as Uncle would have suggested and as Rowan wanted. He picked up a small smile that was suitable for a woman. "Do you want the truth, my Lord, or a lie?" Henry grinned.
“Only that's the answer I need, Annyn Bretanne. Now, where's your loyalty?” He let go of his stiff smile. "You have my loyalty, my lord." "Like I got your brother, eh?" Sensing the attractive color of his cheeks, he asked, "You know about Jonas' stand?"
Although he shrugged, he caught a glimpse in his eyes of what seemed like planning. "A good king knows his people, Annyn Bretanne, and I will be a good king." And he will no longer talk about Jonas. He clenched his hand. "I'm sure you'll do it, My Lord.
" Henry took a piece of bread and bit it.“What does your uncle, Annyn Bretanne think?” It was strange, but he did not order Uncle Artur from his bed, nor went upstairs to confront the castle lord.
It was as if Uncle had no consequences. And maybe he didn't. Not only did he retreat from Henry, but he would not be long in this world. The last one made him sick. “Anny Bretanne?” Although he never found his name offensive, it was annoying because he intended to
