If Not For The Knight

Regan strolled back toward the village, admiring the flowers in her basket. She was pleased with how the yellow primrose complimented the blue of the wild hyacinth she had finally found. She had wandered far while collecting them and would surely be punished for being away from the cottage all day and neglecting her chores. She was confident that she could convince her father to be lenient. After all, the flowers were for her bridal headpiece; she had wanted to find the prettiest, freshest flowers possible.

Indeed, he would not be angry about that. She sighed deeply, unable to hide, even from herself, the heaviness in her heart. She had been promised to Edgar when they were but children. Both had known that they would be married one day. It was just hard to accept that the day had finally arrived. Edgar was a good man and had pleasing features. He was well respected and worked hard in the Lord’s stables. The cottage he built for them was not large, but it had enough room. He could care well for her and the children they would one day have together. The reason for her melancholy eluded Regan. After all, it should be the happiest time of her life.

She knew she had no choice in the matter; it was how things were done. There was nothing wrong with Edgar; she was very fond of him but could not help but feel sad that this was how it had to be. In her daydreams, Regan always envisioned being swept away by passion and love, but try as she might, she could not make herself feel anything more for Edgar than friendship and affection. She had gone to pick the flowers, hoping it would help settle the matter in her mind, but she was unsure if it had.