A Lord and His Lady

by Samantha K. W.

“Say Ratlos,” the Lord mused from behind his stack of books, “how is it that I can have so much – practically everything in the kingdom – yet feel so empty?”

Ratlos looked up at his master, a worried expression on his face. “My lord, you should not feel so. You own every book and every piece of art that has ever entered through the castle doors. The best poets and musicians are at your beck and call all hours of the day. There is nothing you could ever desire that is beyond your grasp,” the servant tried to reassure the Lord.

Instead of looking assured however, Lord Leer sighed and paced over to the window, peering down at his kingdom below. “These people,” he grimaced down at the townsfolk, “they cannot assuage my suffering. Mere possessions cannot quench the thirst that has grown within my soul,” he groaned, turning to face the balding man. “What I really need, Ratlos, is a lover.”

“A lover, my lord?” The man blundered.

“Yes, a lover, a lady, a bride. What is the worth of my wealth if I cannot indulge a beautiful woman with it? What is the use of the peace of my kingdom if I cannot enjoy it with a lover? What is the point of all the soldiers’ lives that may be lost in our wars if they have no queen to fight for? ” Lord Leer let out a massive breath, his golden tendrils sticking to his sweaty forehead. Looking up at his servant, he saw that the man was merely befuddled by his master’s most recent desire.

“If that is what my lord wishes, I will arrange a ball. You shall be able to meet all the young ladies in the kingdom,” Ratlos suggested, his eyes hopeless.

“No!” The lord cried, shaking his head. He flitted over to a bookshelf in the corner and ran a pale finger over the books’ colorful spines. “Aha,” he exclaimed as he withdrew a crimson book. Nimbly, the Lord flipped through the worn pages until his eyes lit up and he laid the book on the table for the servant to see. “This is what I want,” he stated seriously as he pressed his finger firmly onto the page. “I have never felt something so great as this ‘love’ and am determined to posses it. It shall be mine Ratlos, old friend,” the lord declared.

“Yes my lord,” the man nodded.

Snapping his fingers towards the mess he had made of his study, Lord Leer exited the room, feeling as though nothing could tarnish his impending happiness.

☼ ☼ ☼

A fortnight passed before Lord Leer heard any word from Ratlos about the job he had assigned him. He was beginning to grown impatient and had taken to pacing about his bed chamber in his long purple cloak when the plump servant waddled in.

“Ratlos! Where ever have you been? It has been nearly two weeks now and I still have no lady to dote on,” the lord reproached.

Ratlos moved his lips to protest his master’s words but wasn’t able to muster the courage and turned his face shamefully towards the window. “Yes my lord, I’ve been away long.”

“Well,” the lord waited expectantly, “I’m assuming – considering your lengthy absence from the castle, that you have an excuse. What might it be?”

“I was fulfilling my duty to you,” the servant answered grimly. “Sir.”

At that, Lord Leer’s eyes lit up, and his brow relaxed. “You mean to tell me Ratlos, that you have found my bride?” The Lord inquired, suddenly polite.

The man nodded.

Happiness, victory, pride, greed - Lord Leer had never felt so empowered.

“Is she in the castle?” The Lord questioned, scanning the dark corners of the stone chamber with his eyes. Licking his lips, he rolled his head back and nodded, “Of course she is! I can feel her presence, her loveliness calls to me – we are practically connected already.”

“Yes my lord, she is but right outside that very door,” Ratlos gestured towards the wooden double-doors that led into the main hall.

Lord Leer glanced at the door and grew stiff with anticipation, his ring clad fingers tightening into pale fists behind his back. “Well then, good man, send the lady in. I shan’t keep her waiting any longer,” the Lord laughed, nervously combing his hair through with his fingers. With that, Ratlos turned and scuttled from the room, leaving the lord with nothing but his nerves. He knew little of love, but was determined to have it, even if he had to force the girl to love him. He doubted however, that it would come to that; no woman could resist his charms.

The door creaked open slowly and footsteps as light as angel’s wings fluttered a ways into the cold, stone room. Lord Leer, who had been pacing by the window, stopped upon hearing the noise and froze, his back facing the chamber’s entrance.

“My lord,” a gentle voice rippled across the room towards him. Ever so slowly, he turned to face the girl. She was, as he had ordered Ratlos to find, the loveliest girl in the entire kingdom. Her hair shone like spun gold and her lips were as two cherries, perfectly shaped for him to kiss. Her nose however, was so minute, as were her ears, that he feared she could neither hear nor smell anything. He was so overcome by the urge to protect this delicate sprite that he knew he must be in love, for he had never felt pain on another’s behalf before in his entire life.

“Bless the heavens! You must be a dream and if so, stay away, for I do not want you to pinch me - never do I wish to wake up!” The lord exclaimed upon seeing his love. “What, may I ask, is your name my angel?” The girl smiled, not immune to his charms and extended her slender hand.

“Rose, my lord,” she blushed as Lord Leer lowered his cold lips to her hand. Smiling up at the girl, the Lord led her to the window, never releasing his grasp on her wrist.

☼ ☼ ☼

For the next few weeks, Lord Leer indulged his beautiful bride in whatever her heart desired. The finest painters from across the kingdom were rode in to paint portrait after portrait of her magnificent form. He purchased the smoothest silk and the daintiest lace, out of which many dresses were fashioned to her liking. Night and day, the Lord lavished her with gifts and poetry, kisses and gentle caresses. Never having been previously in love however, Lord Leer fretted over the possibility of his failure as a lover, always going beyond what was necessary to insure his lady’s happiness.

Many nights he would spend, locked within his chambers, crafting Rose a new work of poetry, or fastidiously hand stringing a necklace of tiny pearls.

“Only the finest pearls from the depths of the bluest, virginal seas are fit to lay about my lady’s neck,” he would muse as he’d gently fasten the necklace.

“Thank you my lord, but I can assure you, this is really not necessary, I love you as you are. You need not spoil me with your gifts, though I do appreciate them so,” she would answer, as she always did.

Despite these comforting words that she so often uttered, Lord Leer did not believe she loved him. This doubt grew like a cancer within his soul, poisoning every thought of satisfaction that dared enter his mind.

“Ratlos,” the Lord whined one evening after supper, turning his handsome face towards the servant, a tortured expression upon his brow. “My lady - the fairest lady in the entire kingdom - is not happy. She smiles in response to my kisses and excites herself over my gifts, but I feel as though I am never enough for her.”

Ratlos did not know how to respond to his master’s complaint, and instead sighed theatrically, patting the lord’s massive shoulder with his chubby hand. “There, there, my lord! I have never heard such nonsense in all my years. You are the most powerful, rich, handsome man in the entire kingdom – if you are not enough for her, then I fear no one is.”

Lord Leer smirked, “True, true. But I am in love now Ratlos, and if she were to decide that there was another in the kingdom, more worthy than I of her love, I would surely die of a broken heart.”

“Well then, my lord, keep her close at hand and do not let her wander too far. After all, one never knows who is plotting evil against them until it is too late,” the homely servant advised.

“What’s this that you are suggesting, Ratlos? That someone in my own kingdom might attempt to court my bride and take her from me?” Lord Leer roared, outraged at the proposal.

Ratlos quivered and offered a hurried bow before speaking. “While I do not believe someone might be so unwise, I merely care for my master’s wellbeing and wish to alert him of all possibilities. Lady Rose is, in fact, the fairest woman in the entire kingdom –“

“Yes, she is far too exquisite for her own good,” the lord interrupted. “But she is mine and what belongs to Lord Leer, remains so,” he whispered murderously before exiting the room.

☼ ☼ ☼

Many months passed before the Lord had to worry about his bride again. He had purposefully been spending every daylight hour with her and in that time had made sure that he was the only man in her life. As a result of all the time he had been devoting to her however, his kingdom grew restless. Having not seen their lord in months, a riot broke out. The entire kingdom thundered with gunfire and smoke from the burning houses polluted the sky. Determined to keep an eye on Rose, Lord Leer watched his empire begin to crumble from his bedchamber window, not daring to leave the girl alone.

“Please, my lord, the villagers are threatening to break down the doors with your statue. You must do something!” Ratlos cried helplessly one morning.

“You are right, I cannot hide from this any longer,” the Lord sighed, walking towards Rose’s chamber as Ratlos eagerly followed.

Knocking lightly at the large, mahogany door, Lord Leer slowly pushed it open and traipsed inside. The thin, silk curtains were pulled tightly shut over the windows; Rose clearly knew the conflict raging outside was partly her fault and did not wish to look upon the bodies lying in the street, burnt and bleeding.

Sitting on her bed, she looked up at the lord expectantly, her eyes full of love. “Yes, my love?” she inquired sincerely.

“My lady,” he smiled apologetically, “I must go and stop this madness.” He immediately regretted saying it, for her face bent in sorrow as soon as the words entered the air.

“I understand. I will be here waiting for you when you return,” she smiled softly as she got up from her bed and did a miniature curtsy.

“Thank you, Lady Rose,” he nodded and turned to go. On his way out of the room however, he saw a small wooden ship figurine. The Lord remembered every trinket he had ever made her and this model, he knew at once, came from somewhere entirely different. “Rose,” he said, turning on his heel and pacing over to the small figure, “wherever did you get this charming ornament?”

“Oh that? That plowboy, Lucas, carved it for me. Isn’t it quaint my darling?” She chuckled, admiring the little ship from across the room.

“Yes, quaint indeed,” he mumbled as he locked the girl’s chamber door behind him. Slipping the key into his pocket, the lord marched down the hall towards Ratlos. “Ratlos!” he bellowed, “I will be leaving the castle shortly, and it is your job to make sure no potential suitors come to visit my lady while I’m away. I’ve locked her in her chambers, but her handmaidens can deliver her food through the door’s window. I’ll be back within a fortnight.”

“Yes my lord,” Ratlos stuttered.

“Don’t fail me,” Lord Leer yelled down the hall as he walked away, the tiny wooden ship cutting into his clenched fist.

☼ ☼ ☼

“My lady,” an exhausted Lord Leer whispered outside Rose’s door before quietly slipping the key into its lock. “I’ve just returned and I wanted to see that you are well.”

Rose had been sitting awake on the edge of her bed, staring hopelessly out the window. “That is good, my lord,” she spoke through thinly veiled sorrow.

“You are upset with me aren’t you? It is because I had to lock you in your chambers, is it not?” he asked.

“No, I love you very much and I will do whatever it takes to illustrate my love to you. I simply am hurt that you do not trust me,” she sighed, looking down at her tiny hands.

“Forgive me, it will not happen again,” he said as he left the room, looking for Ratlos.

The servant was found at the entrance to the castle, glancing around nervously. Upon seeing Lord Leer, the short man jumped and bowed, “My lord, I see you’ve arrived. How was-”

“You were assigned to watch Lady Rose…” the lord waited expectantly.

“Ah, yes. She was frequented by her handmaidens mostly, my lord,” Ratlos trailed off.

“Mostly? Who else visited my lady, Ratlos?” Lord Leer asked, his face growing red.

“No one questionable sir; a few stable boys, the chef’s son, the tailor’s apprentice, that’s all really,” he finished, fearfully looking up at his master’s face. “Oh wait, there was also that young master violinist,” he exclaimed, his eyebrows jumping up his forehead.

“And how did they get in?” The Lord asked venomously.

“They spoke to her through the window on her door, my lord,” Ratlos answered.

Looking out over the castle’s massive front lawn, Lord Leer noted the blackness of the night sky. “I have been called, along with my army, to assist in a battle two kingdoms over. Before I leave however, I want to see every man who even walked by my lady’s door hung,” he said quietly. “That’s an order.”

☼ ☼ ☼

“I’m sorry Rose, but I have to do this,” Lord Leer apologized as he led her to the dungeons. “You are mine and only mine, and in here, you will remain safe from the desires of lowly stable boys.”

“But they are my friends,” Rose protested, clutching at the Lord’s arm.

“Were. They were your friends,” he corrected. “You are my bride, and only I shall be able to look at you. I am doing this because I love you.”

At the mention of that word, her expression softened. “If it is for love, then I will comply, for there is nothing more precious to me than your love,” she cooed as he walked her into the cold, damp room, still holding onto his arm.

☼ ☼ ☼

The Lord stood outside the dungeon door, fearful of what he might find inside. He had been gone for over two months and knew Rose would not be happy when she saw him. He once again, removed the key from his pocket and unlocked the doors. Pushing them open just enough to peek inside, Lord Leer stuck his face into the crack. The only light in the room came from a tiny crack near the ceiling. The sliver of daylight it provided fell across the floor where the lord could make out a bony ankle sticking out from underneath a blanket. Relieved to see she had not been abducted, he flung the doors wide open and ran inside.

The room smelled of filth and urine, and if it were not for his desire to see Rose, he would have turned and ran. “Lady Rose, I have returned. I am so happy to see you, however I fear you may be cross with me,” he laughed nervously.

Upon hearing his voice, Rose pulled back her blanket and sat up against the wet, stone wall. The bones on her face were protruding violently and nearly half of her hair had fallen out. What remained was mousy and clotted with food and excrement. “You have truly returned, my lord. Oh how I’ve missed you so,” she smiled awkwardly, showing a gap where one of her teeth had previously been.

Ignorant of the changes in her appearance, the Lord smiled in return and stepped closer. “Can you tell me, my love, who has been visiting you?” he inquired, not having forgotten his initial reasons for placing her in the dungeon.

Rose looked confused, but obliged the Lord, “my handmaidens who bring me food under the door, I suppose. Then there is also the blacksmith, who’s been trying to fashion me a key for that lock so that I could see the outside. Nearly everyone in the castle, or so I’ve heard, thought you had died and were never going to return to free me. But I told my maids that you would,” she batted her eyelashes at him, “because you love me so. No one believed me, but I knew it.”

“This blacksmith, did he visit you often?” the Lord asked, ignoring everything else she had said.

“Why, of course, nearly every day,” she answered innocently.

Lord Leer nodded and turned to leave the room, taking no notice of the girl’s pleas for release as he locked the door behind him.

☼ ☼ ☼

“Ratlos, I suddenly find myself without need of a blacksmith. Actually, I regret to say that everyone in the castle, apart from you, Rose, and myself are of no need to me at all. All they do is spout words of discouragement at my lover, trying to make her forget her feelings for me,” Lord Leer mused as he flipped through a large book.

“Should I excuse them from their posts permanently, my lord?” Ratlos asked.

“No. I wish them to be hanged – I don’t see how they can do any good anywhere in my kingdom after blatantly disrespecting their king,” he nonchalantly responded.

“Yes sir,” Ratlos gulped.

☼ ☼ ☼

“This is the last time, I promise my love,” Lord Leer stooped over Rose’s fragile body and kissed her forehead.

She was too weak to respond, for the chefs and her handmaidens had suddenly disappeared and there was no one left to bring her any food. She simply nodded and mouthed the words, “I love you,” before watching as Lord Leer skipped from the dungeon and locked the lock behind him, happy knowing no one could get to his bride anymore.

☼ ☼ ☼

“My beautiful Lady Rose, I am home for good!” Lord Leer exclaimed as he turned the key in the lock to her dungeon chamber. “My lady?” he called out as he stepped into the dark room. There was a new smell, a smell that burned the back of his throat as he whispered her name into the darkness. Spotting her blanket in the corner, he raced towards it. His foot caught on something hard and he fell to the ground, his face splashing into a puddle of stink. He sat up and looked back at what had tripped him – an arm.

It was the thinnest, most fragile looking arm he had ever seen in his entire life. The skin was whiter than the clouds and the nails on the hand were curling over its fingertips. Reaching out to stroke it, he felt that it was cold. The lord crawled on his knees closer to the body, for that was what it was and pulled it into his arms.

“Ah, there you are my angel,” he whispered softly against the girl’s cold cheek. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He hugged the limp body tightly to his chest and felt as though for the first time, she was all his.