Richard was not here when I arrived at the bridge, which was unusual.
I walked to its centre and looked down smiling as I remembered his words describing the water flowing over the jagged rocks and how the sunlight on the forming bubbles made them look like diamonds.
“If they were real, I would sweep them up with a net,” he said. “Then I could be worthy to marry you and give you the life you are accustomed to.”
I told him it did not matter. I had loved him since the first time I saw him tending the roses in the garden as I took my walk, escorted by my lady-in-waiting. Then as I embroidered, sitting by the window in my room, telling her it was because of the lack of light, but so I could watch him digging the dark brown soil; a man of the earth.
I arranged to sneak out of my rooms when she had her afternoon rest. Richard had suggested meeting here, hidden from the castle by tall trees.
Sometimes we sat below the bridge on the grass bank and ate cherries that he had picked, our lips stained bright red with their sweet juice.
But our gentle romance took on a new urgency when my father announced I was to be married to a ten-year-old boy.
“It will seal the bond between our two great Houses,” he said. “And you cannot expect your older sister to marry one so young. She must bear a child as soon as possible after she is wed.”
I knew at that moment that it would be many years before I felt the fulfilment of those desires that had been awoken in me by Richard. I had to choose; a marriage to a child who would enjoy sword practise with the knights far more than my company or a commoner who loved me with passion.
We arranged to meet here. Richard had purchased a horse. We would mingle with the crowds of peasants as they left the castle after their day’s trading; dressed in ragged clothes, my face muddied and hair loose and straggled, no-one would recognise me.
. . . A distant sound brings me back to the present. My heart leaping, I turn to face Richard, but he is not there; just Father with my lady-in-waiting hurrying towards me.
Why today did I have to disturb her from the light sleep that precedes slumber?
But she must have known earlier what we had planned, or why else would my father be with her?
. . . Now I know you will not come, my dearest Richard. Now I know you lie in some damp dungeon awaiting your fate.
I have no choice.
I lift my skirt and stand on the bridge. I sway as I hear them shouting to me but I ignore them, my eyes fixed on the diamonds I can see in the water as I fly down to rest my broken heart amongst their beauty.