Love Letters by Emily Murdoch

almost fell off his horse with surprise, but his experience as a horseman allowed him to stay on. “Do something?” He repeated, trying to maintain his composure. “Do what?”
    Catheryn smiled. Her gaze flickered over to him, but then her head was turned as she caught a snatch of birdsong from their left. “For all your knowledge about people, Selwyn, you know very little about me. I’m not going to stay here waiting for someone to eventually write a poem that includes their name at the end. When I find out who is writing them – and I will find out – then I will be able to ask him exactly what his intentions are, and then make a decision. Either I shall marry him, or I shall not.”
    Selwyn laughed. “The decision is that simple?”
    “Why not?” replied Catheryn. “I only get to make so many decisions in my life, so why waste time on them? I do not know who is writing them – therefore it could be someone…” Her voice grew quiet at this point. “It could be someone who truly loves me.”
    “You believe that to be true?”
    “I believe it to be possible.” Catheryn smiled, and her voice returned to normality. “Why shouldn’t I? It is rather a nice idea to think that someone could be in love with me.”
    Selwyn did not reply, but instead looked more carefully at her. Catheryn noticed his gaze, and blushed slightly, but did not say anything.
    Selwyn couldn’t work her out. The more he looked, the more she changed, and it was not just the dappled light that the trees gave them that altered her. Every time he saw her, he spoke to her, she changed.
    “I just don’t want to end up like my parents,” Catheryn confessed awkwardly. The nervousness of her tone caught Selwyn’s attention, but by the sound of her voice, she didn’t know whether to continue or not.
    “Why not?” he ventured quietly.
    Catheryn took a deep breath. “I probably shouldn’t even talk about it,” she said sadly. “Not that it’s forbidden, just…it is probably not seemly for me to speak of my parents in that disrespectful way.”
    Selwyn waited for her to continue speaking.
    “Their marriage was all arranged for them,” Catheryn said in a rush. “I know that they are not…completely happy. I sometimes think that it would have been better for them if they had had their own choice in the matter.”
    Selwyn did not know what to say. Marriage was a complicated topic amongst equals, but between Catheryn and Selwyn… For his people, it was not a case of class or wealth, but who was available. They lived in small worlds, in small villages, and you were more likely to wed your sister’s friend than a person that you had never met before.
    “I must go back,” Catheryn said, looking upwards at the sun. “I promised my lady mother that I would return before midday, and it fast approaches.”
    Selwyn nodded his assent, rather than speaking and allowing his feelings to be cast bare. They turned their horses around, and began to meander back home.
    “Catheryn? Catheryn!”
    Their return was heralded by her father’s voice.
    “Catheryn come here quickly!”
    Both Catheryn and Selwyn encouraged their horses faster, but it was Selwyn who reached Ælfgard first.
    “What is it my lord?” Selwyn said curtly. “Is everyone well? Has my lady been taken ill?”
    By now Catheryn had also arrived, breath slightly lost but eyes bright.
    “Is my lady mother ill?” She repeated, falling rather than dismounting from her horse.
    Selwyn quickly dismounted to help her up, but before he could reach her, she had righted herself. A faint blush covered her cheeks, and Selwyn knew enough not to speak of her slight inelegance.
    Ælfgard tried to reassure them. “Fear not, none I know of have taken sick.”
    Catheryn breathed a sigh of relief. Their local healer had succumbed that winter, and there was a degree of nervousness in the area as no one had yet replaced her. One of their servants was expecting her first child, and Catheryn had