The next morning, the camp was alive with the sound of sharpening steel and stomping hooves. As I stepped out of the tent, the air felt different, heavy with the eyes of hundreds of men.
Sir Aldwin was the first to approach, his face etched with a mix of relief and lingering concern.
He looked at my neck, where the laces of the hat Lord Kaldric tied hid the marks of the night before, and then at my hands.
"My Lady," he began softly, "I… I wanted to ensure you were well."
Before I could answer, one of the King's personal knights walked by, clapping Aldwin on the shoulder with a boisterous laugh.
"Oh, leave them be, Aldwin! Can you not see the glow? Our Commander simply let his passion get the better of his discipline. Don't let their 'intensity' ruin your innocence!"
My face burned a deep scarlet. I forced a shy, practiced smile, remembering Lord Kaldric's command to play the part.
"Sir Aldwin is merely being a good friend," I murmured, lowering my gaze.
Sir Aldwin looked between us, his ears turning red as he sputtered an excuse and beat a hasty retreat.
By nightfall, the tension of the road had settled into the communal warmth of the evening meal.
We sat at the long benches with the other high-ranking officers and the King's inner circle.
The plate before me held a generous portion of roasted meat, but my stomach was still knotted from the events of the last twenty-four hours.
Beside me, Lord Kaldric sat like a statue of iron, eating with a mechanical precision.
Without a word, I used my knife to slide my portion of meat onto his plate. It must be a gesture of submission, a way to play the doting wife to them but since he loved it, I slid my portion to his plate.
Lord Kaldric paused, eyes narrowing as he took a bite of the meat I gave first. He didn't look at me, but he picked up a large, crisp red apple from his own tray and placed it firmly on mine.
"Here," he muttered.
"Thank you," I whispered.
The exchange didn't go unnoticed. A younger knight across from us leaned forward, grinning.
"My Lady? Are you not hungry? You've given away the best part of the meal!"
I froze, my mind searching for a graceful lie. I couldn't tell I gave it away because he loved it- What if he rejects it next time?
But, it was Lord Kaldric who spoke, his voice steady and surprisingly light, working as a soothing balm on my wretched heart.
Oh silly me and this heart.
"That is her tactic," he hummed, not breaking his stride as he cut into the meat I had given him.
"She gives me her meat so that I am too full to complain when she steals the fruit." I blushed as the people around us gave us mischievous looks.
"Really?" the knight laughed. "Why the apples, My Lady?"
I opened my mouth to say I love them.
"Because she loves them," Lord Kaldric answered for me.
My heart stopped, an unforeseen fluttering bubbled in me. A wave of astonishment mixed with delight rushed in me. I glanced at him shyly, my eyes wide with shock.
He noticed?
Amidst all the rage, the shouting, and the cold silence, he had noticed that I always reached for the fruit? He had noticed a detail so small, so human?
Lord Kaldric felt my gaze and impotent to endure the intensity, he held my hat and tugged it down.
"Eat, Ardelle, eat."
A suppressed smile spread on my features, biting on his apple first as he ate mine first.
I was honestly shocked how beautifully his one action sways me to forget every heartache and focus entirely on the 'one' good thing.
I was taking small bites, savoring the fruit, the taste, the juice. Tonight's apples were scrumptious, I didn't want them to finish.
Abruptly, Lord Kaldric stood up and reached over to Sir Aldwin's tray, snatched a second apple from the startled knight's plate, and tossed it toward me.
"Hey! That was mine!" Aldwin whined, looking at his empty tray in betrayal.
"You can have it back," I offered his apple back to him with a giggle but Lord Kaldric's glare sealed his mouth.
"No… it's alright, Lady Ardelle."
Lord Kaldric ignored him completely, sitting back down and focusing on his meal as if nothing had happened. I caught the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
I clutched the apple to my chest, a genuine, radiant smile breaking through my façade. My hand instinctively extended towards Lord Kaldric.
"They are amazing tonight, My Lord, here, take a bite."
He froze, his gaze was quickly on me with a questionable glance, probably shocked at how I could offer what I absolutely adore to him.
Did he think I was that selfish?
He didn't argue, placed his hand under mine to steady my hand and took a bite from where I did.
My hands felt numb abruptly, heart beating madly against my rubs, staring at the man who continued his meal like nothing happened
Meanwhile from My Liege to everyone else was staring at the Commander doing something… human-like.
Later that heartwarming night where I was sure it was nothing but a performance to him. For his position, if he had to act like the most loving husband, he would.
It was freezing at the camp, the wind howling against the canvas of the tent. I sat on the edge of the cot, my stomach cramping with a dull, insistent ache that made me want to curl into a ball.
I was trying to be silent, but as I stood to find a clean cloth, I felt the unmistakable, warm stickiness.
I looked down. A small, dark smear of blood had stained the hem of my shift and the edge of the white rug.
I panicked, my breath hitching as I scrambled to hide the evidence before Lord Kaldric returned from his final perimeter check.
The tent flap snapped open.
Kaldric stepped inside, his armor clanking. His silver eyes swept the room with a soldier's instinct, and in a heartbeat, they locked onto the floor.
"Blood," he pointed, his voice instantly dropping into a combat register. He was at my side in two strides, his hands seizing my shoulders.
"Where are you hit? Did a scout breach the perimeter? Answer me, Ardelle, where are you hurt?"
"No! My Lord, it's nothing, I'm not hurt." I tried to explain softly, my face burning with a heat on how to tell him.
He didn't listen. His hands were everywhere, checking my arms, my waist, his expression frantic and wild.
"There is blood on your clothes, Ardelle. Do not lie to me while you bleed out in my tent. Tell me how this happened."
Was he… panicking?
"I am not bleeding out!" I shrieked, pushing his hands away, pulling away from him.
"It's just... it's a woman's matter! It's been more than a month, already late. I am on my days, My Lord."
He looked at the blood on the rug, then back at my flushed face. His pupils dilated, and he stepped back, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his sword.
"A woman's matter? Days? Already late?" he repeated, his voice laced with a sudden, sharp suspicion.
"You have no wound, yet you bleed. You are not dying, yet your body weeps crimson." His eyes narrowed, filled with a primal, superstitious fear.
"What trickery is this? What witchcraft have you brought into this camp, Ardelle?"
"Witchcraft?" I gasped, my jaw dropping, realizing he had no idea what I was talking about.
"My Lord, surely.. you.. you cannot be serious, right? You have libraries, you have read… no?."
"My mother spoke of women who could curse the ground they walked upon with blood," he hissed, his face pale, almost drawing his sword and the click served as a final trigger on my patience.
"That is a terrible lie to cover up your sorcery. Who are you truly, Ardelle? What dark pact have you made–"
"Enough!"
The exhaustion of the road, the cramps in my belly, and the sheer, staggering stupidity of his words finally snapped the last thread of my patience.
"I am not a witch, you empty-headed knight!" I screamed, standing my ground despite the terrifying aura he projected, glaring at him as he went completely still.
"It is a cycle! Every moon, a woman's body prepares for a child, and when there is no child, the blood must leave! It is nature! It is how every human in this camp, including your precious King, came to be!"
Lord Kaldric stood motionless. He blinked, my words came too surreal to his hollow head. His face was of pure bafflement as if I had just hit him with his own claymore and he was dizzy.
"Is that–"
My glare hardened, another scream ready to make him leave and do something about the blood.
His mouth opened, then closed.
He looked at the blood again, then at me, his brain clearly struggling to process a piece of information that didn't involve strategy or steel.
"Every... moon?"
"Yes! Every moon! For days!" I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.
"I am in pain, I am tired, and I am certainly not casting a spell on your rugs! Stop barking all the time!"
For a long, agonizing minute, the only sound was the howling wind. Lord Kaldric's silver eyes darted around the tent as if looking for an escape route.
The man who had faced down twenty bandits without blinking was now visibly trembling at the mention of a biological process.
"I... I see," he muttered, his voice sounding strangled.
He didn't say anything else. He didn't mock me, and he didn't apologize, obviously. He simply turned on his heel and retreated from the tent with a haste I had never seen from him, even in battle.
I sank back onto the cot, letting out a long, shaky breath. I heard him outside, barking an unnecessary order at a startled guard just to have something to do.
"Empty-headed knight," I whispered to the empty room, a small, weary smile touching my lips.
He could handle an army, but he couldn't handle me. And for the first time since Sernic, the air in the tent had become less… heavy.