Unbidden (The Evolution Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

said encouragingly.
    “No, wait!” Rochelle cried as Theo turned his back on her and swept away, leaving her with David still attached to her elbow. She wanted to wrench free, she needed to talk to Theo. Every man in the room strained to watch her progress through the room, making the constant pressure of David’s grip almost comforting. She hazarded another glance at his face. He looked deadly serious, using both the stature of his body and hard, direct stares to force curious noblemen out of their path.
    Then Louis loomed before her, notable in the crowd because he had space around him to breathe and a stout chair he stood beside. He was tall and thin, with the fine features she imagined his father, Charlemagne, would have had. He wore red, and his fingers gleamed with golden rings, but she could not absorb much more because he glared down his aquiline nose at her, then raised full eyebrows expectantly. Belatedly remembering her mother’s instructions, she knelt on the floor, folded her hands on her legs, and dropped her head in obeisance. Perhaps she imagined David’s fingers lightly squeezing her shoulder before he moved across the stone floor. She watched his brown boots stop next to Theo’s rather garish green shoes. And she felt very alone.
    “You are Rochelle of Alda?”  Louis the Pious boomed.
    “I am, sire,” she answered meekly, just as her mother had told her.
    “Have you noticed you are the only woman in this hall?”
    Yes, she was alone and vulnerable. A quiet murmur passed through the room, sending a chill down her spine. She stared at David’s boots. She did not know why, except that, to her, they were the only normal things in this crazy room, with their simple color and light scuff marks.
    “Answer me.”
    “I did not notice, sire.”  Of course I noticed I am the only young woman amidst hundreds of the most powerful men in the Carolingian Empire! she wanted to shout.
    “Well you are . It is a great honor I bestow upon you.”
    She bobbed her head to acknowledge his statement, though she did not feel particularly honored, kneeling like a supplicant on this hard , damp stone.
    His voice rose louder . “A great honor to you, your family, and your estate. Your home shall become my stronghold for Alamannia, which in turn shall be part of the inheritance for my youngest son. You must help me protect the land for him. It is rightfully his, because I wish it to be so!” 
    She hoped he did not expect a response this time, and was relieved when he continued talking.
    Rochelle tried to pay attention, but she was not informed about politics, nor could she determine how anything in his speech related to Alda. She wondered inanely if he had taken special lessons on projecting his voice to fill this room. He lectured about the greed of his older sons, the fickleness of his subjects, the importance of defending the land in his name. She startled when she heard her name. “I have been wronged, Lady Rochelle. Gravely wronged!  Now that I have reclaimed my throne,” he shouted, “I will not be removed from it again!  Never again.”
    The stone of the floor dug into her knees . Her feet were going to sleep. She glanced at him from under her lashes. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was watching the crowd, testing their reaction to his speech. This wasn’t about her at all. He was using her interview – if it could be called that – to announce his strategy for holding a region of his empire for his fourth son.
    Rochelle dropped her eyes again as he ad dressed her directly. “You know why I called you here. You will form a union with a warrior I have already chosen. He will train local men, protect and control your estate, and God willing, give you offspring more submissive to his wishes than my own are to mine. You will report to the chapel immediately to sign the betrothal documents.”  The thrum of chatter filled the room. And just like that, he dismissed her. Betrothal documents?  Protect?