Love Letters by Emily Murdoch

 
    Chapter One
     
    “Catheryn!”
    The clear voice called out across the courtyard. Heads turned, and faces smiled to see a familiar woman rush past them, dress swinging in the gentle breeze that the summer had brought.
    But there was no smile on Eorwine’s face as she scanned the countryside outside her home for the daughter of the house.
    “Catheryn, where are you?”
    Catheryn could hear her, but she remained hidden below the dip in the field. She was lying on her back, glorifying in the sunshine that was pouring down onto her face. The winter had been long, and there was relief in every household that the summer had finally come to ripen their grain and to fatten their crops.
    Her mother’s decorum had drilled into her the necessity of wearing her veil to cover her hair, but Catheryn, at only seventeen summers, was still desperate to have her own way. She had pulled her long green robe up over her knees, and was lying on the soft grass, smiling to herself as she felt the caress of the sun on her legs.
    Being an only child was never easy, but for Catheryn it was somewhat more of a burden. Her parents, Hilda and Ælfgard, had gradually built what could only be described as an empire, and in the Anglo-Saxon realm of England, were becoming more and more important as their gold deposits and tapestry collection grew.
    It had meant many an evening speaking with their steward about the next harvest, or bartering with merchants about wool prices until Catheryn’s eyes had been too heavy to keep open. She had retired to her chamber, but the debate would usually continue into the night. It meant that Catheryn could not remember a conversation that did not involve a sum of money, and that her parents were more knowledgeable about the continental need for silk than their own daughter.
    Catheryn snorted as she remembered the evening before, when her father had given them all a lecture on just how important it was to be loyal to one’s king. Loyal to the King! Whenever she had seen the king – and it had not been many times at all – the most she had seen was a rather mature older man, who was quiet and preferred to be alone rather than process around his kingdom as he was forced to do. King Edward was not the sort of king that the Anglo-Saxons had expected. Their society was built on justice from the sword and honour on the battlefield; King Edward was more interested in fine cloths, prayer in his chapels, and quiet discussion.
    But despite the slight disappointment that all the nobles felt in their calm and prayerful king, they had all, just as Ælfgard had, realised the importance of connections and loyalty. And at just seventeen, Catheryn knew exactly what that meant: attending the royal court, and trying to insinuate their family into the royal couple’s intimate circle.
    “Catheryn!”
    Eorwine’s head was just inches away from Catheryn’s, and Catheryn started when she opened her eyes.
    “Eorwine!” Catheryn gasped, shocked to see someone’s face so close to hers.
    “Catheryn,” she said disapprovingly as she pulled away from her wayward charge, veil flapping around her face. “You are fully aware of what is happening today, and you chose this afternoon to go missing?”
    Eorwine was a lady on rather the larger side than the smaller side, and it took her a moment to catch her breath. She had evidently been running.
    “I was not missing,” Catheryn replied languidly, closing her eyes again and making no attempt to get up. “I have been contemplating.”
    Eorwine laughed through her panting, looking down at the wayward young chit. “You have your father’s wit, I see. Come on now – you must return with me, the preparations continue and we require your help.”
    Now Catheryn laughed, and it was a light, sweet laugh that seemed to echo across the field. “Eorwine, the king is coming. But he is not coming to see me, it is my mother and father that are the ones that invited him, and they are the ones that he