Eadgith does a favor for Leila's sake

Eadgith looked up from the fire in the King’s empty hall as the great doors opened.

“My baby!” her father cried. “This is a lovely surprise.”

The King merely bowed his head to her and then wandered off to stare out the window at the pouring rain.

“Why are you here all alone?” her father asked her after a kiss. “Has your sister been bothering you?”

“Oh, no. I’m waiting for Brit. We’re making a doll for Emmie, with little dresses.”

At this Sigefrith turned his head and gave her a weak smile from the window, which she hesitantly returned.

She had not spoken more than two words with him since the baby’s death. As much as the loss of his little pigwiggen grieved him, she knew that his great sorrow was his wife. She was convinced that the baby had been taken from her as punishment for her sins, and she was devastated beyond words. She had quieted greatly since the night of his death, but she was now, as Eadgith’s father put it privately, stark, staring mad.

“That’s sweet of you, baby,” her father smiled.

“I like to do it,” she said. “It’s almost as much fun as I had playing with my own dolls, when I was a little girl.”

“I only wish I had known you then,” he said sadly. “Aren’t you my little girl any longer?”

“I shall always be,” she smiled.

“Will you always be my little baby?”

“Always,” she promised, and she opened her arms to meet his embrace. But she thought he held her for a longer moment than usual, and she wondered whether he had not needed a hug more than grown men are generally expected to do. Perhaps the past few days of having the King as a constant companion had worn him down.

“I’m glad to have met you here,” he said gruffly after releasing her. “I was afraid I should have to go meet you at your brother’s, for I should not dream of making my baby come to me in this rain.”

“I came for Brit,” she pointed out.

“Brit is a Princess,” he smiled. “But I shall thank her for relieving me of this quandary. Baby, since I have you here, I must ask a great favor of you,” he said awkwardly.

“Oh, anything,” she said.

“I hate to leave so soon,” he said with a quick glance at the King’s back, “but I don’t like to leave Leila alone just now…”

“I understand,” she nodded firmly. What did he mean to ask her? Did he want her to keep a watch over Sigefrith?

“Baby,” he said softly, taking one of her hands in his own, “I want to ask you whether you will come home with me.”

“With you?” she repeated, thinking of the rain. And of Sigefrith.

“For Leila. The baby will be coming soon, and I…” He trailed off and began stroking the back of her hand with his other.

Eadgith hesitated.

“I know you’re a young girl,” he mumbled, staring at her hand. “I know you don’t know much about such things – I mean, I don’t know what your mother has told you.”

Eadgith nodded, trying to reassure him about that, at least.

“I don’t know whom to ask besides you. It’s so far – I can’t simply send for Matilda when her time comes. And I can’t ask Matilda to come stay with us for weeks, perhaps. There will be the nurses and the other women of course, but no ladies. I can’t have her attended only by servants, can I? That would do her a dishonor, don’t you think?” He looked up at her at last, and she was surprised to see something approaching humility in his eyes.

“I – don’t know…”

“I know it is a great favor I ask. Perhaps it is wrong of me to ask you to come for Leila, who is not your mother. Perhaps you are angry at her for… being who she is.”

“Oh, no! I am not angry at Leila. I – ” What could she say about Leila?

“Your brother is.”

“He doesn’t know her.”

“But you do.”

“Yes, I – ” What could she say? “Does she want me?”

“When I asked her whether I should ask you to come, she seemed very pleased with the idea. I believe she would like to have you. It is your brother or sister, you know.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But what will my mother say?”

“She will say something very cruel, what else?” he said bitterly.

“Would I not do my mother a dishonor thus?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I am placing you in a difficult position for Leila’s sake, aren’t I?”

Eadgith looked behind him to the King, hoping that he might turn and tell her father that he was mad – that one could not ask one’s first wife’s daughter to attend the birth of one’s second wife’s child – or even tell him that it was perfectly reasonable. She needed to be told what to do. 

But the King did not stir. Perhaps he had not heard a word, though their voices must have carried as far as the window.

“She must not be alone,” Eadgith said at last. “Perhaps if there were another lady you could ask… but if there is not, then I must go.”

“My baby!” he cried, and embraced her again. “You do love your old father, don’t you? to do this for me.”

“I don’t do it for you.”

He stepped away from her and held her at arm’s length, looking over her face with his darting hazel eyes. “You are my little baby still, but you are also a little woman now, aren’t you?”

Eadgith blushed and looked at the floor.

Just then a servant came to announce that she might come up to see the Princess.

“I shall leave tomorrow if the rain lets up,” her father said briskly. “Will that do? I shall come for you after breakfast, or send word if I do not go.”

She nodded.

“Come here, runt,” her father called, and Sigefrith came dutifully. “Tell me whether this little woman is not simply too magnificent to be mine?”

“She is too magnificent to belong to any man,” the King said quietly.