The Brat Page 0,1

brat. In fact, her actions had earned her that very nickname at court. Judging by the servant's reaction to the idea of merely fetching the female, it seemed gossip must be true.

"Becker," Edward barked, and an aide stepped quickly to his side.

"Aye, sire?" the man murmured. "Is there something amiss, sire?"

"Aye." Edward announced heavily. "My wife has decided 'tis time for Murie to marry."

"Ah." The servant was well-trained and merely arched one eyebrow, pursed his lips, then breathed, "Oh dear."

"Aye, exactly," Edward muttered. "This news is not going to be well received by the child."

"Nay, well... Nay, I fear it will not," the servant admitted carefully.

The king's expression was glum.

"However, she is well past the age of marriage, sire," Becker pointed out. "Perhaps 'tis indeed time she marry." Edward sighed. "Aye. 'Tis time. There was no way for me to win the argument with my wife and convince her to put off the matter."

"Hmmm," Becker murmured. A moment later he said, "Well, perhaps Murie will take it better than we fear, sire. As I say, she is well past the age when young women usually wed. Surely she has realized it would eventually come to pass that she would be forced to do so. Mayhap she has already resigned herself to it."

"Do not be ridiculous," the king snapped. "We have given her everything she has ever wanted, and never once made her do a thing she did not wish. Why would she imagine that would change?"

"Aye, this is true, my lord," Becker agreed. "And I fear, by all accounts, that Lady Murie does not wish to marry. She has said as much on several occasions."

Edward nodded unhappily. "I am not looking forward to the coming interview."

"No, I would imagine not, sire," Becker said.

"She is a charming child, but can be quite ... difficult at times."

"Indeed, my lord."

King Edward shifted in his seat, then muttered, "Stay close. I may need you."

"As you wish, my lord."

The moment the two men fell silent, Osgoode clutched Balan's arm and whispered excitedly, "Did you hear that?" Balan nodded slowly. "It would seem the king is finally going to force the Brat to marry."

"Aye," Osgoode murmured. "Aye." He was briefly lost in thought, then pointed out, "She is very rich." Balan peered at him with dismay. "You were not thinking that I - ?"

"She is very rich," Osgoode interrupted. "And we do need a rich bride to bring Castle Gaynor back to its former glory." Unhappily, Gaynor Castle was in desperate need of coin to rescue it from ruin. The Black Plague had, in laying waste to a good portion of England, decimated the Gaynor and its nearby village. Half of the servants and villagers had died in horrifying waves of pustules and fever. Most of the other half had fled, either out of fear or in search of happier circumstances. There was only one solution: Finding their own villages and servants ravaged by the plague, many wealthier lords had given in to desperation and offered high wages to anyone who would work for them. These were the lords who'd replaced the people they'd lost to disease.

Gaynor had once been a wealthy estate. Unfortunately, Balan's father had spent a great deal of gold on installing a new fish pond two years earlier, and that had been followed by a wet season the summer before the plague, which had further eaten up their resources. By the time the Black Death hit, Gaynor was in no position to match the offers made by more fortunate holdings. They now found themselves without the manpower - or even the coin needed to bring in temporary manpower - to reap the harvest. The better part of the crop this year had rotted in the fields, further crippling the castle and its remaining inhabitants. They were in desperate straits.

On top of everything, Balan's father had been among the many who had perished when the plague rolled across the country, and Balan had inherited the man's title, castle, what loyal servants remained and all the attending troubles. Now they where all looking to him to return Gaynor to its former prosperity.

" I," Balan corrected sharply. " I am the one who needs a rich bride, I am the one who has to live with whomever I marry, and you are quite mad if you think I would even momentarily consider marrying the king's spoiled goddaughter."

"Well, I realize it would be a trial," Osgoode conceded. "But we must all make sacrifices in this