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CHAPTER 8
In the morning, I wassummoned to stand before the king.
Not to the Great Hall where court was held, but to a private meeting chamber in another part of the castle.
I bathed my wounds then dressed slowly, choosing clothes that would cover all of the marks. My body was aching and sore. My head still felt as if it were in a fog.
When I dropped a silver braided girdle on the floor and leaned down to pick it up, my vision flickered in and out and I nearly heaved up the remaining contents of my stomach.
With great effort, I pulled out the wooden chair from my desk and sank into it. I could not do this. The only thing I was fit for was lying in bed all day. The next day, too. And possibly the entire week.
But I had no choice. Arthur’s summons could be about any number of things.
He might have learned of my forays into the forest with the hunters.
Had the bodies in the marketplace been found? Had Draven done what he had threatened and gone to Arthur? Had he told him all of what had happened? Even about the hunters? Despite promising not to?
Or worse... perhaps Florian’s father, Lord Agravaine, had already presented his petition for our marriage. Would Arthur grant such a thing when our own father had already promised me to the temple?
The people of Camelot expected not a royal marriage but a consecration. How would they react if Arthur decreed the former heir of Pendrath was to wed?
I pushed myself out of the chair and finished buckling the belt around my waist. I had chosen a high-necked blue tunic with long sleeves that fell to mid-thigh, and long black breeches with dark tanned leather boots.
Now I moved to stand in front of the long gilded mirror off to one side of the room and looked at my reflection. For once, I had not bothered with a cloak or a hood. While I had tunics that were hooded, I knew Arthur would demand I lower my hood in his presence.
For once, I had left my long gray hair loose instead of braided. It fell around my shoulders like a heavy curtain. Conveniently, it concealed the bruises around my throat more than a hood would have.
I tugged at my sleeves, wishing they were even longer. Should I have worn a cloak after all? Or tied a scarf around my neck?
I glanced at the clock on my desk. I was going to be late. Arthur hated tardiness.
Istepped into a largechamber with stone walls and a high vaulted ceiling. My boots made soft clicks on the floor.
The room seemed quiet at first.
A large oak table lay near a row of arched windows. I glanced at it with interest, seeing a sprawling mess of maps and scrolls. I wondered what Arthur had been working on. I hoped he and his advisors were trying to come up with a solution for the food shortage. But considering Lord Agravaine Emrys was his foremost councilor and cared only for consolidating his own power, I had my doubts.
I turned towards the far end of the chamber. The sound of a woman caught my ear.
Specifically, the sound of a woman wrapped up in the final throes of her own pleasure–or one who wished a man to believe she was.
At the far end of the chamber was a raised platform with a throne-like chair. There Arthur sat. There was a woman on his lap, her dark hair tumbling down her back as she raised and lowered herself.
I slowed my steps, not wanting to come closer. But even as I did, she slid off his lap, fumbled with my brother’s breeches, then tugged her skirts back down her thighs and stumbled down from the platform.
