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oooo there's some shit coming in the next few chapters
enjoy x
word count; 2109
Rosamund
According to Finan, the Witan wished to speak about me of all people. Rumour never failed to reach me and, according to them, I was a bewitching subject. It seemed the Witan of Wessex spoke of nothing but Princess Rosamund, the girl who would be Queen. Whether it was of Gwynedd or Wessex was another question; many thought with how I was treating Edward it would be Wessex, but I disagreed. I was merely doing a service to my Father's wishes. It was somewhat ironic; I was a divisive topic; men either loved or hated me. But, alas, I knew one who was fully infatuated.
"Do they all think I've bewitched him?"
The Irishman nodded slowly, "Apparently the lad thinks of nothing but Princess Rosamund of Aquitaine." I was lying upon the grass, staring at the sky with Finan next to me. We were outside the walls of Winchester, in the country, and it was ever so quiet. I do so enjoy nature.
"What a compliment," I spoke, giggling like a young girl who'd just had her first kiss. "I know he cares for me, that much is obvious."
"Cares?" Finan questioned, eyeing me suspiciously. There was a connotation to the word that he clearly wished to investigate but I was not as direct as to pursue it. Finan, on the other hand...
"He has made it a pastime of ours to..." I pondered the right word, grimacing, "Talk." I said in a rather unconvincing voice. It was clear I was not as good of a convincing woman to Finan as I had hoped.
"Talk?" Finan scoffed loudly, repeating the word. He knew precisely what I was inferring and his tone suggested he did not like it, not at all. I nodded slowly,
"...Talk."
"That's like sayin' I pray to ya' every time I see ya'" Finan rolled his eyes. He was not a particularly pious man and thus I found the sentiment of Finan praying to me utterly ridiculous. "He told Uhtred only this morning that he has placed his hands on you many-a-time."
I repeated Finan's scoff. "He has done no such thing." I had hoped Edward was merely jesting; such words could provoke Owain to revoke my betrothal and that would not please my Father.
"Oh, really?" Finan spoke. "Your neck says otherwise." His eyes glanced down to the purple bruise Edward had left the previous night. It was stark and I could not hide it as a result of its location, prompting it to become a sign of Edward's intent. Nonetheless, they blamed me for the mark as if I had forced Edward to place it there with my bewitchment. Oh, men.
"Says the man who did the exact same to me but a few weeks ago." I shrugged. Finan cackled at my response,
"Tha' was different. You enjoyed tha'." Well, he wasn't wrong but I would not accept his vulgarity nor his implication.
