Page 10 of Veil of Winter

The Holy Scriptures said that God was love. Love was an emotion, was it not? But perhaps love was the only worthy emotion. It was all so confusing.

“Go on and get some sleep,” Elyce said to Ysabeau, noticing her eyes were a bit bloodshot and her lids droopy.

“Wake me before you drink the potion.”

“I will.”

Ysabeau lay down on a small bed in the corner of the room while Elyce worked on a tapestry she’d been embroidering. When she grew tired of that and her thoughts began to tangle and spin with all the things that might go wrong, she took up her pen and started to write out her thoughts, as she often did when her mind was unsettled. After half an hour of writing her feelings, she began to write how shewishedshe felt.

I am at peace and happy at the prospect of taking control of my life and the lives of my people. I am confident God will wake me up at the right time, not too early and not too late. God will help me prevent King Claude from gaining control over Montciel and my people. My people will be happy and content, able to tend their sheep and live their lives in freedom, and I will know that I helped bring that about. Andsomeday I will find enough favor with God for Him to give me my own love, a husband who will love me, even with all my weaknesses, strong emotions, and impulsiveness, and who will not be cruel to me, will not ignore me, and will not use me for his own selfish interests.

Her chest did not feel so tight after writing that.

The rest of the night she alternated between singing softly to herself while walking around the room to keep herself awake and writing prayers and her favorite scriptures.

Finally, when it was time to take the potion, she woke up Ysabeau, who helped her dress in her most elaborate gown, which she was to wear for the wedding. This way no one would have to dress her for burial.

Then Elyce took the vial and drank it.

The grainy liquid tasted bitter and earthy. She swallowed it all and hid the vial at the bottom of a trunk.

Ysabeau turned away as a tear dripped from her eye. She was trying to discreetly wipe her eyes with her hands as Elyce lay down on her bed. Poor Ysa.God, please comfort her and don’t let her worry so much.

Elyce stared at the wispy canopy overhead and prayed for God’s protection, provision, and grace.

I know I don’t deserve Your favor, God, but please save me for the sake of my people.

Her heart beat extra hard and extra slow at the same time, causing an ache in her chest. Her fingers and toes tingled as hereyelids became so heavy she couldn’t keep them open. Her body started drifting . . . drifting . . . then suddenly convulsed, shaking her awake. She drifted again, then jerked awake again. She felt so strange and uncomfortable. As she drifted for the third time, she prayed silently,O God, let me fall asleep.

Darkness dragged her down... down... and sleep overtook her.

Three

Gerard still could hardly believe he was in Montciel. It had happened so fast.

He’d prayed like he’d promised Delia he would. And while he was praying, he began to speak praises to God that he had memorized from the Psalms. As he stared at the cross above the chancel in Dericott Chapel, he suddenly saw a vision of a young woman lying down.

The woman was beautiful, her brown hair spilled out on the pillow around her head, and her eyes were closed. People were standing all around her, crying and wailing. When he walked into the room, they all stopped crying and looked at him. They held out their hands, their eyes pleading. “Help us,” they said. And then the vision vanished.

Gerard had squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force the vision to come back, but all he could do was remember it—the sleeping woman and the people crying and pleading with him.

God, what does it mean?he asked.

Go toMontciel. Help PrincessElyce.

It was not an audible voice, but the words had to have been from God. Gerard had never seen a vision like that before. And if it was from God, Gerard could not possibly ignore it.

He spent a long time praying, asking God exactly what He wanted him to do, why He had chosen him, but there were no other words, no more instructions, no more visions.

A word from God. A vision. There were so many stories of knights who prayed and were granted a vision about a quest God was sending them on, but Gerard never imagined it would happen to him. The whole thing excited and invigorated him. He was going to Montciel on a quest from God!

But now that he was here, in Montciel, he felt unsure where to go and what to do. Who was he, after all? Only the brother of an English earl, a foreign knight in this country, with nothing to recommend him except a letter from his sister, who at least was a duchess.

He was a good swordsman. He was capable as a knight, and he had proven that he was brave in battle. But unless there was a war between Montciel and Valkenfeld, he would need diplomacy, not battle skills. And diplomacy was not something he’d studied as a knight in training. That was more his oldest brother, Edwin’s, domain.

Thankfully, he had been able to convince one of his friends, Sir Oswalt, to come with him. Though they had become knights at the same time, Sir Oswalt was a couple of years older than Gerard. He was quick-witted and was an advocate of mindingone’s own business, so Gerard was surprised he of all the others had agreed to come.

“Why did you say yes to this mission?” Gerard had asked him.