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I watch her as she lifts the mug to her lips. Her eyes catch mine and quickly look away.
“We will stay here until I can be sure you are not followed. One or two days, at most.”
When the lady begins to protest, I cut her off.
“And then I will escort you to Breywood Castle.”
Her hand stills as she places the pewter mug back onto the table between us.
“You will?”
The delay will be difficult to explain. But I’d not trust anyone else with her escort.
“I will.”
“You believe me?”
“I am as certain as I can be without proof that you did not aid your husband in his most recent endeavor.”
Her tears surprise me. The lady has fought me, berated me, and despite knowing who and what I am, has provoked me still. Aye, she had been scared at first. And angry that I bound her hands. But she has stayed strong despite it.
I could withstand a battle-axe being swung at my head. A sword pointed at my heart. But tears. Nay, not them.
Wiping them away, she breathes in deeply and swallows to regain her composure. She does so quickly, reminding me this is no ordinary woman. I sit across from the eldest daughter of King Malcom of Edingham.
She’d been raised to become a queen.
“Father,” the serving maid interrupts once more. “I am to tell you the bath you ordered has been drawn. I am happy to escort the lady to your chamber.”
Hilla’s eyes fly to mine.
She asks the silent question, and I do not answer with words. Although I do not believe she will flee, tis still safest if she remains with me. Weighing the decision against the appearance of impropriety, there is no other choice.
The queen’s sister, duplicitous or nay, will not be harmed on my watch.
She does not move.
“As you’ve ordered it, I might very much enjoy a hot bath,” I say.
She shoots up so quickly, I cannot help but smile. Without further prompting, Lady Hilla follows the maid. Although my back faces most of the hall, I pull my hood up anyway, out of habit.
My brothers would do well to adopt this particular custom, the hood an easy way to remain hidden. None seem to look my way, thankfully. We will need to remain inconspicuous while we are here—too long a time, given my mission. I need to be away from here, seeking out news of the Merian court. Of the king’s nephew and Silvester’s whereabouts. This delay may prove a costly one, but there’s no hope for it. If we leave too soon, tis likely the men following us will be lying in wait.
Two days.
In two days I will leave to return her to court, as she does not appear to be a threat to her sister. In the meantime, I share a bedchamber with Lady Hilla. Who is likely at this very moment disrobing for her bath.
I pour myself another ale.
8
Hilla
Stepping from the tub, I take the drying cloth the serving maid left behind. Capable and efficient, she’d make a fine lady’s maid. For an inn such as this, in a small town with nothing near, save the border more than two days’ ride to our east, my needs have been more than met.
The meal, delicious. The bathwater, hot. The maid Coraline even left behind a bar of lemon-scented soap. Or perhaps, being my first time in such a place, I am simply as unworldly as my husband accused me of being.
This may be my first inn, but I am hardly sheltered. When Mother was alive we traveled the Isle. To Murwood End, even. To the Tournament of the Loigh. To the Highlands of Edingham. But when Whitley’s daily insult of “harlot” failed to rile me, he tried many, many others.
