Authors Note: This story although may contain SOME real characters, is completely fiction. There is no truth behind it and is a work of my imagination.

The Crusade

It was the year 1249 and Emily DeHoghton was six years old when it happened, when her life changed. Her mother Sarah had died in childbirth along with her baby brother, and a week later at the request of King Henry III of England, Adam DeHoghton (Emily’s father) moved both himself and his daughter to live in the royal castle. It was either this or sending Emily to a nunnery. Being the King’s financial advisor it would have been inconceivable for him to raise Emily alone, he was always at the castle, always available to the King day or night, when ever needed. Being an only father now, it would be best for Emily to grow up living among royal and nobility. She would receive the best lessons in school and grow to know the customs of a noble miss. Who could have guessed that the death of her mother would be the double edge sword in Emily’s life? On one side was the never ending grief that would cause Emily to cry herself to sleep every night for years to come; on the other was the opportunity of a lifetime to bring ones family to another status on the hopes of marring a noble. Emily DeHoghton was six when her life changed, and she was six when she first meat him.

--

Standing at the entrance of the castle, they were a sight to be seen. Of course Adam DeHoghton had been here many times, walked through the gates and the halls of the castle without a second thought, even as if it was his home by the way he navigated the maze. But this time was different. This time, coming to the castle meant more than just his occupation as the Kings financial advisor, this time it really did mean home.

He was a tall man of six feet with night black hair that grayed on the sides by his temple. His eyes were once the color of a Jay bird but with age they dulled, becoming less bright as the lines around his eyes became deeper and heavier. At one point a person would always have been able to find a smile on his face, but today just as the eyes, lines were only visible. His body had taken a toll as well; the forces of gravity had won. The once vibrant young man was now seen as a middle aged man who had experienced hardship. Even though emotionally he didn’t show the effect of his wife’s death, physically all on lookers knew. With the little personal belongings he and his daughter had he carried in is left hand lightly dangling from his finger tips while his daughter hung to his right. His eyes were blank and he moved without emotion as he guided his daughter through the dark halls to the sitting room of the King.

The spitting image of her mother is what Emily was. She was tall for six and thinner than the other girls. This though could be due to the fact that for a week she has barley touched food. Her days only consisted of mourning at her mother’s grave and laying curled up on her bed with her only doll. Emily’s hair was dirty blond that grew dark in the winter and streaked in the summer. Her eyes were brown with a tint of blue that was visible in the sun and matched her olive skin perfectly. Even at six it was known that one day Emily would be seen as one of the beauties of England.

As Adam DeHoghton and his daughter entered the chamber Emily was quick to notice all the books that lined the walls. Compared to nobility, the DeHoghton’s were considered little more than mere peasants, but as a benefit of Adam’s job he was allowed to some of the great resources of the kingdom; which on many cases he bought home and taught his daughter how to read from. There was a fireplace that had two great sheepdogs asleep in front of it, claiming their beds. Then there was the King, a big man, not as tall as her father, and much more round in the stomach and waist. His hair was light brown and wavy with just as much gray as Adams. There he stood looking out the window to the land he ruled and the city that claimed allegiance to him as King.

“King Henry…” Adam spoke to announce himself as the king turned to see who stood behind him. Of course he had heard the door open and the people’s steps as they drew near, but he knew who it was and dreaded to see the look of his old friend whom he had not seen since the day of his wife’s funeral.

Just as the King suspected, his dear friend looked warn. He had not known what it was like to loose a wife for he was still married to the mother of his four children, his Queen Eleanor. The thought of being is the situation of never seeing the love of his life again caused him pain and he knew he would never understand what Adam had been through.

“Henry you remember Emily, my daughter…” Henry felt horrible. For years he had known Adam. They meet at the early age of 16 when Adam acted as a messenger for the kingdom. Quickly they became friends, the best some would say, the King even putting his dear friend through school so he could have a craft. He loved his friend and only wanted the best, but when Adam married Sarah the situation changed. She was now the most important part of his life and he wanted to spend all his time with her. This hurt the Kings feelings for he did not understand at the time why a man would want to occupy all his time with just a woman. The marriage distanced the two friends. Even though the King gave Adam the title of Financial advisor, he never made any attempt to be apart of Adams life outside of the Castle. This being the reason why he called on him so frequently, took him on so many business trips, and insisted on him always being available. The King felt bad now for taking up his friend’s time for his own selfishness. He wanted Adam all to himself, and now he paid with his guilt.

“Of course I do, you know I have children your age. Maybe when you get settled in I could have you introduced to them.” The King walked towards the girl and bent to one knee. He knew that he was not acting as a King should toward a little girl, but he desperately wanted to make up his selfishness to Adam and his daughter. If it meant treating the young miss like he would his own Margaret and Beatrice then he would.

Emily stayed looking at the King from her father’s hip, her arm wrapped around him. She did not say a word or even acknowledge the fact that he was crouched on one knee in front of her.

“EMILY….” Her father hissed, but it did nothing, she didn’t move.

“It is alright dear friend, I shouldn’t expect so much at a time like this when…” (BANG) there was a loud noise and all bodies turned toward the door.

“Father, tell Margaret that one day I will be King and if I wish I could have her head for the way she teases me!” A young man said as he made his way stomping exaggeratedly through the door to the King not even noticing his father was in the presence of company.

Still on his knee the King took his attention from the girl to the young man, keeping his calm he slowly stood and mouthed his apologies to Adam for the interruption.

“Father” the boy said coming to the King’s side, “Margaret teases me. She keeps saying that you and mother never wanted me and that the only reason I’m here is because you found me on the side of the road and would have felt guilty if you didn’t take me! And that is the reason why I look so different from the rest of my family?” He pouted, flaring his arms around to emphasize the point he was bringing, glaring at his father in hopes of getting a reassuring smile.

At the first noise of the young boy Emily shifted her body behind her father. As the boy’s ramblings continued she took secret glances at him. She could tell the difference in the King and the Prince. Contrary to the King, the boy had dark brown straight hair that at night could be mistaken for black, and piercing grey eyes. His face was oval unlike his fathers round one and it could already be seen that one day he would indeed be very statuesque and much taller than his father.

“My boy, I can assure you that you were not found on the side of a road. Your sister just teases you; don’t let her get the best of you. Remember, being a King one day means that you will have to be able to handle situations, I will not always be here to take care of everything.”

“Yes father…but what do I do?”

“Let’s see if you can take care of this one on your own, but nothing too drastic!” Putting his had on his son’s shoulder he turned his son to face the other bodies in the room.

“Edward you remember Adam DeHoghton?”

“Of course father.” The young Prince held out his hand to Adam as any young royal would to show respect to a person who holds company to the King.

Shaking Edward’s hand, Adam took his other and pulled the hiding girl out from behind him, even though she begged not to be seen. When in view for the young Prince to see her, she hid her face behind the doll she cherished so much just hoping that this was all a dream.

“Edward this is my daughter Emily DeHoghton.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Edward proclaimed reaching for the girls hand to show the same respect he showed her father.

“How old are you?”

“Six.” Emily said quietly.

With cheeks the color of cherries, Emily kept her face hidden but stuck her hand out as her father had shown her.

“Emily, this is my son Edward. He is the oldest out of my four children being the age of ten. Tomorrow when he is done with lessons I will have him show you around and introduce you to the other children.” The King said with a smile on his face. Both children turned to the King quickly as if mortified, Edward for the fact that he felt he was a young man and had no business showing a six year old around, and Emily because she had never been in the presence of a prince before.

--

The next day as promised by the King, Edward did show Emily around. He took her to the castle gardens, the library, the kitchen, the maid’s court, the dinning room, and even showed her some of the many secret passage ways that weren’t really secret. Edward as directed also showed Emily where her bed chambers would be from now on, because it just wasn’t appropriate for her to be sleeping with her father on that side of the castle.

When entering the room a maid that sat in the corner stood to greet the young Prince and the girl.

“Hello Prince Edward.”

The girl looked to be around the age of 15. She was beautiful but plain at the same time because of the clothes she wore. Her hair was red, and she had blue eyes and fair skin. She was well growing into a woman with the curves of her hips and the fullness of her breast.

“Mayra this is Emily, she is to be your new mistress.” The prince said not even glancing at the young woman.

“Yes Prince.”

“Emily,” the prince called away from the window, “this is Mayra, if you need anything you are to ask her.” And with that he left.

Emily was shocked. The room they had given her was meant for a Princess. The bed was huge and had been carved out of the finest wood. The bedding was quilted with cotton sheets, nothing like the wool ones she had at home that made her itch all night. At the window, Emily could see all the kingdom and now knew why the King would want to look out his. In the room there was a fireplace and even a private bathing chamber. She didn’t know how to feel. If her mother wouldn’t have died she would still be at home sleeping on her little mat, but she would have her mother. Was it okay for her to feel happy about being given such great amenities on behalf of her mother’s death? Was she trading in one joy for another?

That night Emily lay awake clutching her doll. It was a cold night so she snuggled herself under all the blankets that lay on the bed and watched the fire blaze. She missed her mother and now that she was away from her father and by herself in this big room she could not fall asleep. On many occasions she found herself thinking of Edward. She had never thought a boy to be cute or even attractive before, so she didn’t know how to perceive her feelings for him. Did she love him? Did she even know what love was; she knew her father loved her mother. She didn’t think she felt that way.

--

For the next nine years Emily grew up in the castle. She went to school with Princess Margaret (who was three years older) and Beatrice (one year older) and played with the young Prince Edmund (two years younger). Beatrice soon became Emily best friend and was caught on many occasions getting into trouble together. They were always seen playing in the gardens and laying around the library reading stories to each other. If they were together people knew that they were up to something. At night Emily and Beatrice would often sneak to each others room and gossip about Margaret or the maids and how terrible they were.

Being older Margaret never truly accepted Emily for in her mind Emily was always a peasant who received good fortune because of her mother’s death. She hated the way her father and mother swooned over her as if she was their own flesh and blood, giving her the life she didn’t deserve. And so she made it her goal to remind her that she was nothing more than a maid herself from the day she arrived at the castle. Often did Margaret make Emily run her maids errands when nobody else was around, telling her that disobeying the Princess had the penalty of death. Being young Emily really didn’t know better and so she would always follow Margaret’s orders even if it meant humiliating herself.

After the day Edward showed Emily the castle, there were never many words shared between the two. He was always cordial and would say “hello” or “how is your day”, but besides that no interest was ever shown from his side. And really the only time he ever saw her was when Emily was with Beatrice who Edward did adore very much. As hard as it was, Emily never shared her liking of Edward to her dear friend, scared of the response. And finally after years of never interacting with the Prince, Emily felt her feelings for Edward were just that. Just feelings of a young stupid girl who fell for the first boy that came along. That was until the day Emily ran into Margaret.

It was at the age of twelve when Emily was making her way at night to Beatrice’s bed chamber when she felt her doll being ripped from her hand. Turning around she was surprised to see Margaret standing there with the doll in one hand and a torch in the other.

“Aw is Emily DeHoghton still sleeping with a baby’s toy?” Margaret mocked in a child’s voice.

“Please Margaret give me back my doll, my mother made that for me.”

“Oh she did.”

“Yes, so please give it back. I’ll do anything to have her!” Emily begged, her eyes swelling up with tears.

“You little bitch; you think you could do anything to make me happy?”

“I could try.”

“Okay…this is what I want.”

“Anything!”

“Take off all your clothes and go to my brother room, and tell him I wish to speak to him at once.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes, go to Edward’s room naked and tell him I wish to speak with him.”

“I could never!”

“Then I guess your doll here is just going to have to be burned.” Margaret said calmly moving the doll to the torch she carried.

“NO, I’ll do it.” Emily cried the streams of tears evident on her rosy cheeks.

Slowly Emily undressed from her nightgown and walked towards Edwards bed chambers with Margaret following her. She felt degraded and lower than trash, just as Margaret had wanted. She could hear Margaret snickering behind her.

“You’re just as flat as this wall here! There is no way any man or beast would ever want a stick like you, don’t you know that a man wants something to grab, something to hold on to. You’re just like a little boy.”

As Margaret lean against the wall outside Edwards chamber holding Emily’s doll and nightgown she pointed towards the bedchamber door when Emily looked back at her with pleading eyes.

Pushing against the door she crept into the room to find Edward, just like his father, looking out the window at the kingdom he would one day rain over. Thinking the person who entered his room was just another maid to feel his bath or bring him is nightly reading Edward paid no mind.

Standing in his room naked, Emily kept her eyes down and her hands over her private parts as best as she could. Margaret was right, Emily was flat as the walls, her breast could be described as mosquito bites and her pelvic was still hair less. Softly she announced herself.

“Prince…” She sniffled.

“Yes...” Turning around Edward now at the age of sixteen just looked at Emily. He was surprised to see her standing there as if she had just been born.

“What do you think you are doing in here like this?” He roared. “You must leave NOW!”

“Princess Margaret is calling upon your company.” She said clear but with her discomfort visible for there was not one spot on her cheeks that was free from the salty liquid that flowed down her cheeks.

With the mention of the Princess name Edward knew what was happening. He had known how evil and unjust his sister was, so at once he took off his own shirt and came to Emily wrapping her in it. Emily accepted the plain undershirt gratefully, even if it was thin, it was still better than nothing.

“Where is she?” Edward asked as he held onto Emily’s shoulders and even gave her a slight hug to let her know he understood.

“Waiting outside sir.” She looked to him as he went to grab another robe that hung in the bath chamber and wrapped this too around her, letting her know that it was okay.

Leading Emily outside Edward wasn’t surprised to see sister standing there with a big grin on her face. He saw that she held Emily’s clothes and doll and remembered the doll to be the one she had the many years ago when he first meet her.

“Oh Emily dear, you went back on your word.” Margaret said cheerfully lifting both the doll and Emily’s clothes to the fire.

“Please stop…” she lunged forward but before she could even come in contact Edward had rushed forward and grabbed the torch in one hand pushing it to the side and his sister’s neck in the other.

“You must know that father and mother will hear about this!” He hissed at his sister, his face red with anger, his gray eyes hating the sight before him. “Give her stuff back.”

Without a word from her mouth Margaret threw Emily’s belongings down to the floor and fled from her brother’s grasp, shocked that he would dare touch her the way he did. How could he dare pick that bitch over her? When Margaret was out of sight, Edward turned towards Emily who still blushed with embarrassment. Picking up her belongings Emily turned to head to Beatrice’s room, when she felt Edward grab softly to her elbow.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” And without another word Emily walked away.

She knew now that her feelings for Edward were real. Just watching him stand up for her made her stomach spring to life, and even though the situation was embarrassing, she still couldn’t help sneaking in private looks of him. He was everything she ever wanted, but being twelve made all these feelings still just as complicated.

The next morning Emily heard from Beatrice that Edward went to his father and mother about the situation and that from now on if Margaret said anything to Emily that was rude, nasty, or disrespectful, Emily was to report it directly to the Queen so proper punishment could be administered. It felt good to know that Edward did this for her. From that day on, secretly every night Emily slept in the shirt that Edward gave her, it smelled of him, and her feeling grew that much more for him.

--

Two years went by and Emily was now fifteen. After the situation in Edwards bedroom Margaret kept her avoidance and Edward just as before said his “hellos” and “goodbyes” but that was it. It had gone back to just like before when she felt invisible to him. The only thing that did change was Edward. He had grown into a man and was tall and had muscles from learning how to fight and ride horses. His face was strong with very distinguishing features; he was everything a person would expect a prince, the future king, to be.

During lessons Emily was called to the King’s chamber by her father. Upon arrival she was greeted by her father, King Henry, and another man whom she had seen around the castle before. His name was Duke Liam Humphrey, and he was the King’s war advisor. He was a short man of about five feet six inches and very fat. He was older with all his hair turning gray and falling out. His eyes were brown and plain and just like her father, gravity had won.

“Hello father,” Emily greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, “King Henry,” whom she gave a hug, and then finally bowed to the Duke, “Duke Humphrey.” She stayed quiet knowing the roll of a woman in the castle, especially when in the company of a stranger.

“My dear,” her father started, “ the reason I have called you today is because the King was approached today by the Duke and asked if as a reward for going to The Crusades this upcoming month if he could have a wife to come home to in return.” Emily bit her lip and lowered her eyes. She knew what was coming and did not want to hear it, she wanted to run away, but for some reason her legs did not move. She was scared. “And when the King confronted me with the choice of having you as the Duke’s wife I was more than happy to oblige, being accepted into the Duke’s house is a great honor and you will be happy to accept this decision.” Those were the final words of her father; Emily bowed and looked to the men standing in the room.

“Emily dear, you may leave now, we must discuss the arrangements.” The King said with a smile on his face.

Slowly turning, Emily left the room and once out of sight of her father and the others, she sprinted to Beatrice and told her of the dreadful news.

“Don’t worry Em, the Duke is going to the crusade, and you did say that you were his prize when he came home, and let’s face it, there is a good chance he won’t be coming back.” Beatrice condoled her friend, rubbing her back and saying everything she knew.

--

After her sentencing Emily felt all was lost. The Duke had indeed gone to The Crusade with the hopes of having her when he returned, no matter how long it took. She spent the next two years watching Edward and the many women that came and went from his bedchamber with lustful eyes. She wished just for one look, just for a glance of acknowledgment from Edward. She was still in love with him just a deeply as she had ever been.

For the two years that Emily watched little did she realize that she herself had developed into a woman. Her hips grew wide for childbearing and her waist grew thin giving her the womanly figure she always desired but yet wasn’t even aware that she had. Her bust had grown large and plentiful; many complimented her on how she would be able to rear many a child. But to rear children from the Duke was a horror to her, to have sex with a man as him was a terror to even think about.

It was the day after her seventeenth birthday and Emily still at night went to Beatrice’s room for comfort and she still carried her doll. She had found it nice to have a companion at night, to not feel so alone in her big room all by herself. She knew it was childish and immature, especially for a woman who was engaged to be married, but she cherished these last few moments of freedom where she chose which bed she slept in and who was next to her. At night Emily always walked quickly with her head down and her arms tightly clutching her doll to her breast. It was dark in the halls and very easy to get spooked. Turning the corner Emily felt as if she had ran into a wall. Dropping her doll and falling back she felt herself being caught. One hand caught her wrist while the other wrapped around her waist with the hand wresting on the small of the back. If someone were to see they would say it was a lover’s embrace.

“I’m so sorry, please excuse me…” Emily looked up to come eye to eye with Prince Edward. Being much shorter than him, she cranked her neck to see him. There was no emotion on his face; he just looked at her, holding her close.

“Watch yourself.” Was all that he said, but still he didn’t loosen his grip of her waist or wrist. Looking over her for the first time in years, the Prince saw the woman Emily had become.

“I will Prince.” She said in a whisper, unable to disconnect her eyes from his.

It seemed forever they stood staring at each other, him holding her in his arms, she with her free hand placing it on his shirt at his chest. Her breathing became slow and synced with the Prince. Their bodies somehow became closer and Emily could feel every muscle in Edward’s body pushed against her. Her heart beat so hard and fast she was sure he could hear it.

“Prince, are you coming…?” Neither of them heard the door of his room open, but it had and in the frame stood Mayra. The prince let go of Emily and stepped away. Emily unable to move just looked from Mayra to the Prince in hopes that her own mistress wasn’t sleeping with the Prince, her Prince. But there she stood, in the frame in nothing more than her undergarments, beautiful.

Bending over the Prince handed Emily her doll and walked off towards his bedchamber without a glimmer of emotion where a willing Mayra stood waiting. Not looking back, Emily continued walking to Beatrice’s chamber, the doll again placed at her breast. Little did she know, that before entering his room, the Prince stopped at the door and watched as Emily walked off, admiring her and everything she had become from the little girl that he knew.