Page 9 of A Most Forgettable Girl

“Yes, for that way, I will never risk jeopardizing my own feelings again.”

The Queen paused thoughtfully. “I see,” she said after a moment’s consideration. “Tell me of this misfortune you suffered in your...youth.” She and Magnatrude Bartree exchanged an amused look with one another. “For I find myself most interested.”

Almost without conscious effort, Gunnilde adopted a sorrowful expression. It was a subject she was most comfortable discussing by now, for she had talked of it often and again. “The tale is not an unusual one, Your Majesty,” she said modestly. “Our fathers’ estates were neighboring, and there was an understanding of sorts that when we came of age, we would make a match of it. Alas, his father died, and nothing came of it.” She dabbed her eyes, though in truth, she had no more tears to shed over Arthur Conway.

“I see,” the Queen murmured. “He made you promises and played you false, the knave.”

Gunnilde’s eyes widened. “Oh no!” she objected. “No, no, we were both young and the betrothal was never really spoken of all that much. It was simply something that we quietly acknowledged whenever we happened upon each other. Master Conway was always most agreeable in his manner, and I grew attached to the idea that we were destined for one another, that was all.

“Later on, his sister made an advantageous match, and it was agreed he could aim higher in his choice of bride.” She shrugged. “These things happen. I was embarrassed, and it was much discussed in our home county for a twelvemonth, until such talk happily died down.”

The Queen frowned. “You talk like a woman of sense regarding this,” she said slowly, “which only makes me more curious.” She shot a quizzical look at Gunnilde as though trying to puzzle something out.

“How so, Your Majesty?” Gunnilde set down her empty goblet. The Queen gestured at once for Magnatrude to refill it, and waited until this office was performed before she resumed her speech.

“You see, Gunnilde,” she said, “it makes me believe that your forswearing of husbands was not due to this youthful setback, for you took that quite in your stride.” She looked at her shrewdly. “I believe there must be something you are not telling me, is that not so? Some later event of more significance, perhaps?”

Gunnilde was still basking in the fact that the Queen had addressed her by her given name when realization of her words hit. Her breath caught in her throat and her cheeks grew hot. “B-but how did Your Majesty—? No one else ever surmised as much!” she stammered.

Armenal’s expression became complacent. “I am considered reasonably astute in such matters,” she said with a self-satisfied smile. “You see, much like yourself, I prefer to be the observer in life, but I have a good decade more of experience to draw upon. You must not reproach yourself,” she said kindly. “It was inevitable that I should find you out in your lie.”

“Lie?” Gunnilde spluttered. “Nay, it was not that precisely.” She squirmed awkwardly in her seat. “It was more like...” Words failed her and she fell silent.

“An omission?” the Queen suggested lightly.

“Yes,” Gunnilde admitted. She could not quite meet the Queen’s eyes and nibbled unhappily on her bottom lip.

“You have spoken to no one of this event? Except perhaps your very good friend Eden Vawdrey.”

“Oh no! I could not possibly—that is, I did not tell even my dearest friend of it,” she answered guiltily. “I did not wish to—to burden her.”

“I see.” The Queen sat back in her chair, steepling her hands under her chin. “But you will tell to me now this significant event, will you not?”

Gunnilde raised appealing eyes to the Queen. “Oh, please, I—”

“Do not speak of it yet,” the Queen said, holding up her hand. “I will even send away my good Magnatrude as a show of good faith between us.” She directed a glance at her lady-in-waiting, who rose at once from her seat and swiftly exited the room, shutting the door behind her. “You see? Now...” Armenal leaned forward in her seat, her eyes gleaming. “Tell to me, please.”

And just like that, Gunnilde told. She was careful to switch the setting to her father’s house, and to leave the knights in question faceless strangers. Wisely, she kept the substance of their conversation intact. Because of this, she knew her words bore the ring of truth, for when repeating them, her voice rasped with emotion she could not falsify.

The fire crackled and the silence stretched as the Queen sat in deep contemplation, her eyes half-closed. “Yes, now it all makes the perfect sense to me,” she murmured, then gave a dreamy sigh. As though emerging from her contented ponderings, she straightened up and clicked her tongue. “You have been through much, my poor Gunnilde. These knights they can be such swine.” She shuddered. “So brutish. So coarse. They outrage every common decency. Never will I understand the women who are impressed by such men.”

Gunnilde’s expression wavered. “Well, er, I don’t know that I would say that precisely...”

“And those two knights you overheard describing you so unbecomingly that time... You are sure you could not hazard a guess as to who they were?”

“Oh no, Your Majesty!” Gunnilde hurried to reassure her. “I did not recognize their voices; I dare assure you of that!” She lowered her eyes. “You see my father hosts an annual tournament, so our home is positively swarming with knights at that time of year. It could have been any one of their number.”

“Yes, that is a good deal too many to narrow down,” Armenal acknowledged sadly. “’Tis a pity we will never know the churl’s identity, but few maidens would have had the courage to confront them there and then. I suppose your heart failed you in the moment.” Her attitude in this was one of resigned disappointment.

Inwardly, Gunnilde breathed a sigh of relief. No matter how much heartache he had caused her, she would not expose Sir Ned for his ungentle conduct, not for the wide world! She felt badly though, for deceiving the Queen, who had been so kind and sympathetic to her plight.

“You must not regret confiding in me, my good Gunnilde,” the Queen said, misinterpreting her expression. “Indeed, it is a good thing, for in truth, you were in some hot water when first you came to me today.”

“Hot water?” Gunnilde repeated. Oh yes. In all the excitement, Gunnilde had almost forgotten she was supposed to be in disgrace.

“Yes,” the Queen agreed absently, “for you have been named as a guilty party in a serious affair here at court. There has been some pother and commotion over it this morn. Still, it is of no matter now, for I have thought of a very neat solution.” She beamed at Gunnilde, who was sat frozen in her seat. “And now, if you would just open the door and call to Magnatrude, then we may see about straightening this all out.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said obediently, rising from her seat, though she felt more bewildered than ever. Whatever could Queen Armenal mean? She crossed the room and called to Mistress Bartree, who appeared so suddenly, it was almost alarming.