Rowan looked over Brynn’s shoulder, not quite at her. “He’s paying my dowry along with that of my younger sister. I’ll get to choose my own husband, too.”
“When did he dismiss you?” Brynn wasn’t sure why she asked. It seemed relevant, but she wasn’t sure if the question arose from honest concern or petty jealousy.
“Would you have rather turned me out yourself?” Rowan snapped.
Brynn remained impassive. “I don’t want to be your enemy, Rowan.”
“Then why did you come here?” Rowan’s tone turned hard, sharp.
“I’m sorry,” Brynn said softly.
“You’re a southerner. You don’t belong here.” Rowan made a derisive sound. “You know you don’t.”
Brynn forced herself not to react. She was used to the sting of rejection by now. “Are there many girls like you in the village and surrounding farms? Ones he’s taken to his bed?”
Rowan shrugged. “Not that I know of.”
Brynn lowered her voice, trying to soften her next question. “Has he taken any of the household girls? Or any of the village girls?” Brynn told herself she was asking these things because she was worried about Esa, but she knew deep down that wasn’t the only reason.
Rowan shook her head. “He keeps one woman at a time.”
“Are you sure?” As lord of Ombra, Cenric had full rights to the women in his household under law. It was the Valdari way of things, after all.
“Cenric has taken concubines. Maybe a few whores here and there.”
Brynn almost thought to ask Gaitha if she had ever bedded Cenric. But that question would be extremely inappropriate, even if Gaitha had been rather open about her past life.
“But not the household girls and not random village women.” Rowan sounded certain. “He’s a good man, Lady Brynn.”
Brynn closed her eyes. She hoped Rowan was telling the truth. “Thank you, Rowan.” Brynn forced a smile. “I appreciate your time.”
Rowan looked over Brynn from head to foot, like she was seeing her for the first time. “Why did you come here?”
“I wanted to return your comb,” Brynn answered honestly.
“No. To Ombra. I’ve asked about you. You’re a sorceress. Niece to the king. You could have married anyone.”
Brynn couldn’t have married anyone, actually. Cenric had been the only unmarried man of suitable status to marry a king’s daughter who wasn’t an atheling. Cenric had no kings in his bloodline, which meant he couldn’t use her to take the throne after Aelgar’s death. Aelgar and Brynn had discussed as much, but Rowan didn’t need to know that.
Brynn inclined her head in a bow. “I think I have kept you long enough, Rowan. Thank you for speaking with me.”
Brynn stepped back through the garden gate before she lost her composure. Her husband had kept concubines before, but he seemed to treat them fairly and wasn’t exploiting the household girls, if Rowan was to be believed.
That was far better than Brynn had feared and yet…it wasn’t as much of a relief as it should have been.
Cenric
Cenric spent the night on a hard floor that was definitely not his own bed. He had to listen to the whining of the pup in a basket, too. Aegifu’s girls gave her a bowl of milk and she lapped up the goat’s milk greedily but went right back to whining after.
Snapper tried to console the puppy, but she missed her mother. He leaned over the basket and nosed at her, licking the puppy until she finally fell asleep.
The next morning, Aegifu had several errands and chores for “big strong men.”
Cenric’s bruised arm ached, but he tended to the fence and chopped wood with Kalen, enough for a week. It was more than his aunt deserved. The girls chopped their own wood most of the time, after all.
They finished around midday and made to ready their horses. Kalen carried the puppy’s basket on his saddle.
Aegifu came hobbling out of the garden, leaning on her cane. “Leaving so soon?”
