Princess' Knight

By Rhonda Leibel

Elisa Fahrtost strongly believed in the fairy tales of love and romance, and dreamed of her happily ever after with her gallant knight. Finding herself alone and afraid, and running from the only family she had, she found a path that would link her to a chain of memories beyond her wildest dreams.

Thaddeus Morissent dismissed the musings of others, and was content to remain the carefree spirit. After seeing her infidelity, he would not love anyone for his own because they were trouble. He hardened his heart and swore he would never be chained to only one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 9, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514455586

Rhonda Leibel

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:Rhonda Leibel is an aspiring new author, regaling her tales of historical romance and love conquers all. She resides on the Canadian prairies with her husband and lovable pets. Also read her inspirations, Princess Knight' and Deep Beauty and Contract for Love.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

…ashes to ashes, dust to dust… The preacher’s words were still prevalent in her mind and she was greatly accustomed to hearing them. There had been three funerals in as many months starting with her Aunt Clara, her mother’s sister, who died along with her stillborn child. Bertram and Clara, the newly wedded pair, although they were both near fifty, were overjoyed with the prospect of becoming parents, because they had both thought it would never come to pass, given that they had both married so late in their lives. They took all of the necessary precautions to protect the bundle growing in her womb, with Uncle Bertram not allowing Aunt Clara to lift anything, from the moment he was informed of the news. He even moved both of them to a room on the main floor temporarily, so she wouldn’t have to climb or descend the stairs.

When he wasn’t in the vicinity, the servants were given stringent instruction, that she be given anything she requested, and there was always someone stationed outside of her bedroom door, or sitting with her in one of the many rooms that occupied the large manor. He wouldn’t allow her to travel at all, so he brought everyone to her, so she could visit frequently. In the last two months of her pregnancy, she wasn’t allowed to get out of bed, unless it was to relieve her call to nature. He attended to bathing her himself, and then he only attempted a sponge bath, for fear she would slip and lose her balance by stepping in and out of the tub. His grandiose efforts would become futile, as the pregnancy at her advanced age proved to be very turbulent on her frail little body, and the birthing, assisted by the midwife, was lengthy and excruciating.

In the end, the sizable male child was born with a blue-gray pallor, and was not breathing. Uncle Bertram was at her side, holding the unmoving, stillborn babe, with his heart-wrenching tears tumbling onto the blanket that he was swaddled in. The midwife encouraged Aunt Clara to press on to expel the afterbirth, but then Aunt Clara’s eyes closed, and her body went limp. Her insides seemed to be gushing forth, and the white linens were becoming more and more reddened with her blood, at a distressing rate. The midwife was unable to impede the bleeding, and Aunt Clara perished before Uncle Bertram could say good bye to her. He collapsed in an eruption of sobs against her chest, while still holding the babe.

Her brother’s untimely death, only three weeks afterwards, was brought about by a homeless person whom he had befriended on the outskirts of a small village that he had been travelling through. He observed the beggar on his entrance into the village, noticing the threadbare clothes, and the dirt-smudged skin. The man looked Halim in the eyes pleadingly from the ground, as Halim sauntered past him on his horse. Halim reflected upon the man’s misfortunes, as he was padding his own belly full with a hot meal, and quenching his thirst with ale. He purchased another heaping portion, and a jug of ale, and offered it to the weary vagrant. Halim then sat with the beggar, while he watched him gorge on the food he had graciously accepted. The vagrant lapped up every crumb, and Halim was content with his virtuous feat.

He endeavoured to encourage the man to spend the night inside the inn, with Halim compensating the innkeeper for the room. The vagrant refused, so Halim resolved to spend the night on the side of the road with the man, as a gesture of good will, deeming the beggar to be no better or worse than Halim himself. While Halim was asleep, the vagrant used Halim’s own dagger to slit Halim’s throat, leaving him to die. He took everything Halim had, including his clothing and his horse. The townspeople discovered Halim’s body early the next morning, his blood already dried in a puddle surrounding him.

Lastly, and most regrettably, was the death of her dear mother Anastasia, who had passed suddenly in her sleep. She just stopped breathing one night, five weeks after her brother’s brutal murder. Anastasia Fahrtost had taught Elisa so much, and it was still difficult to accept that she was actually gone. Elisa would never be able to go to her again with her many thoughts and queries. Elisa was just coming of age, and there were still a world of things left for her to discover and explore. Anastasia had conveyed her knowledge on many subjects to appease Elisa’s thirst for learning, but now Elisa had become dependent on her father to provide fulfilling responses for her inquisitive mind.

Brehem, her father, was many years older than her mother, but they had loved each other greatly, which was tremendously evident in everything they had sought to do together. Her mother often regaled the tale of how she was snagged by this man, and she embellished the story when she would tell it over and over again to Halim and Elisa, her pride and joy, whom she had adored with every breath. Brehem and Anastasia had met at a celebration, they had both attended, and the buttons on Brehem’s coat, had snagged on the lace of her mother’s dress when they were waltzing. At first, Anastasia was worried about her dress ripping, and unravelling. Brehem seemed simply amused at the blush it brought to her face. He was chuckling, causing his mid-section to jiggle, which made it more difficult for Anastasia to unlatch the button holding her captive against the stern, yet spirited, man. She said it was the smile that emerged from Brehem, when their eyes met while trying to disengage from each other. She knew he was much older than her, but she was in love. Of course, Brehem would discount her version of the story each and every time, saying that it was she, who deliberately hooked them together, as she was smitten with him, but it always ended with him smiling deeply into Anastasia’s eyes, recalling how he had fallen for her in the very same moment that she had fallen for him.

Elisa was two years younger than her brother Halim, and he doted on his little sister, deeming her with the endearment, ‘Lil Lisa’. Little was exactly what Anastasia and Elisa were. Small, delicately framed, both with ivory skin, and blue eyes. Anastasia had long, light brown hair, and Elisa’s long, curly locks were a darker brown. Brehem and Halim were the very same in distinction. Both of them towered over the ladies in height and brawn, and Brehem had curly blond tresses that hung to his shoulders, with green eyes, and Halim also had green eyes, with straight mousy-brown hair, which he preferred to keep shorter, parted in the middle, and combed back.

In Elisa’s fifteenth year, she had suffered extensive losses, as well as her grief-stricken father, whom had taken to drinking his heartache away, making it improbable to see him outside of his room in these past months. Elisa, on the other hand, kept the memories of the loved ones lost, in her every, waking thought. She felt it would keep her closer to them by not forgetting what they meant to her, and she longed for her father’s strong arms to hold and comfort her while she talked and thought about them, but was forced to find her own relief, by crying herself to sleep every night.

Elisa was now at a marriageable age, but if a husband had not previously been arranged for her, she was able to accept courters with her father’s approval. This involved Brehem allowing any gentleman callers to solicit a visit with his daughter, but he was required to be present for the reception. Each time a suitable caller was announced, a servant would notify Brehem that his presence was requested below, but in his constant drunken stupor, the answer was always no. The servant would return to the disappointed would-be couple with the resounding answer. There were a goodly number of callers at first, but as the months passed by, there were less and less. Obviously the callers had moved on to other available ladies, as they were too impatient to wait, and they had stopped coming by at all anymore. She did not want to defy her father’s wishes, and there was no one that she had seen that she wanted to ‘snag’ anyway.

Elisa’s grief was mending slowing, and she was able to reminisce more frequently now with a smile rather than a frown. The running of the household had been jointly shared by her mother and father, with her father ultimately having the final say with the ordering of goods, and the seeds for the crops that would be planted. Her mother’s expertise was her garden, which she had tended faithfully every day, eliciting a profitable vegetable and herb crop, to be admired by all. She had started with a small plot just outside of the house, but expanded the area every year, enticing more and more seeds to germinate, in the soil she determinedly weeded. The rows were perfectly aligned and not one unwanted plant could be found. Elisa and the servants would try to keep the garden as immaculate as her mother had, but they did not share the same passion for it. The garden would produce well enough, but it was sorely lacking her mother’s touch.

With Brehem notably ignoring his duties as master of the household, the responsibility of the property had fallen on Elisa’s shoulders. Brehem would not even answer his door anymore, when Elisa would try to secure answers to her questions. She took it upon herself to pour over the books, to ensure that everything was right with the properties. Her mother had taught her to read and write, so this was an easy task for her, and she was proud of her accomplishments, without the beneficial guidance from her troubled father. She had found the odd discrepancy, but queried the servants, and tallied their inventories, and all was made right.

She took over the selection of the meals that were prepared, and often pitched in to help, as she had grown up with many of her loyal servants, and it also gave her someone to talk to, and ask the questions that she had wanted to ask her mother. They were there for her with anything she needed to know, and she also found out the latest gossip from those that thrived on the need to pass the rumours on to others along the way.

New linens were purchased by the bolt and she spent many hours honing her skills as a seamstress, mimicking the actions of her many skilled teachers. She made everyone that she knew at least one new outfit, including herself, then made an elaborate blue brocade coat, outlined with glittery silver thread. She was extremely proud of her talents, and hoped her father would appreciate her efforts, and realize she had become a very promising catch for a suitor. She requested all of the servants to perform a thorough cleaning of the manor, including washing the stone walls, and scrubbing all of the floors. In the spring, preparation around the perimeter of the building was done, and planting of herbs, spices and vegetables commenced. Everything had been done to show Brehem that she was capable as a lady, and worthy for marriage.

The concern for Brehem’s wellbeing was mounting with each passing day. The servants would leave a tray of food outside his door, and sometimes it would be gone in the morning, but more often than not, it was left for the mice to eat. The only time anyone heard from him was when he had run out of ale. His harsh bellow echoed throughout the stone building, and it brought forth many of the servants, scurrying to do his bidding. Most just felt sorry for him, thinking he just needed a little bit more time for his heart to mend, so they would bend over backwards to please him, and ultimately, gave him what he wanted. Eventually, Elisa devised a plan, that Brehem would not be given anything else without him specifically speaking to her first, so the requests he made of the servants were denied; thus forcing him to make his appeal to Elisa. However, her ruse did not work, and he simply slipped out of his chambers in the wee hours of the morning, when the household was asleep, and procured his necessities secretly.

They realized their plan was thwarted when they noticed large hunks of cheese or meat were mysteriously missing from the cold cellar, and the door was left open, leaving an identifiable trail of bread crumbs from the cooking area to his room. Disappointed that their cunning plan did not work, and he still would not budge from his room with anyone’s prodding, they didn’t even consider requesting anything of him anymore. The cleaning of the entire manor was to include his bedroom, but he had put up such a fuss, yelling at anyone who tried to enter his domain, so they simply bypassed it.

Well, no more! Elisa, and the seven servants, converged on his room one morning, and they were not leaving until the room was thoroughly cleaned, the bedding changed, the room aired out, and Brehem himself was bathed and shaved. They were all armed with cleaning rags, mops, and each person carried one pail of hot water, to fill his tub. They opened the door, as he never locked it, because they had all respected his privacy, and he had trusted all of them to never enter without being beckoned. The foul smell wafted from the room, and assailed all of their nostrils. At first, they thought he was dead. Just a large bump atop the bed, the bedcovers had fallen to the floor, surrounded by many empty jugs of ale, scattered among piles of clothes, which probably could have stood up by themselves, covered with the stench of rotten food, stale ale and filthy body odor.

Sadie, the eldest and dearest of the servants, entered first with a, Mr. Fahrtost, sir? Please, let us help you.

No response was heard, so she flung open the curtains covering the window with a "swoosh", so the sunlight could permeate the room. Elisa and the remainder of the servants still standing at the door were in awe, when the sunbeams softly carried the stirrings of the dust that covered the room, to settle on the littered floor.

Please sir. Mr. Fahrtost? We are here to–- Sadie was abruptly startled and cut off when Brehem cleared his throat.

What are you doing? Close those shades! Brehem yelled as he brought his arms up to cover his face.

No sir, I will not! Your repugnant odor is hideous because you have been lax to attend to yourself! You have been avoiding everything and everyone by spilling ale down your throat to drown out your pain! Enough! Get up! Get up and let us clean up this pigswill! Sadie remarked confidently.

How dare you– was all Brehem was able to say before he was abruptly flung from the mattress to the floor, with a Hrumph. Elan and Abril, the only two man servants, had been instructed earlier to fling him from the bed at Sadie’s signal.

As Brehem held his aching head with one hand, he rolled over and grabbed Sadie’s plump ankle with the other, and exclaimed, You have no right! You will be punished for this!

Elan and Abril were prepared to flee from fright, their eyes rounding as big as saucers, as they had never before defied the master, nor listened to or obeyed Sadie to do the equivalent.

At least you are talkin’ now. We know you’re not dead, but you sure smell like it. Sadie continued with her round of insults.

Sadie merely shook off the weakened hold that Brehem had on her ankle, and motioned with a wave of her hand for the rest to enter. They began to fill the tub with the steaming water, and they stripped the bedding with sour faces and placed it outside the bedroom door.

Elisa walked over to her father and bent down to cup his face in her hands, saying gently, I’ve missed you father.

Brehem stared at his daughter, trying to recollect why he was in such a dishevelled state, and why all of these people were in his room when he was sure he had not made this request, and questioned how long he had been in this incorrigible state, now able to smell a reeking putrid aroma. In Elisa’s eyes, he saw his wife, his beautiful Anastasia. He momentarily scanned the room but could not see her. Where was she, he wondered? His face softened