Beth satcross-legged on the floor of Baldwin’s library, surrounded by a semicircle of open manuscripts. He’d given her parchment to make her notes. Her brown hair was escaping its pins, falling in wisps around her face as she leaned forward, squinting at an illustration of herbs.
“Ha!” she exclaimed to the empty room. “That’s definitely yarrow. I knew it.” She scribbled the modern name beside the medieval one, adding it to her growing compendium of medicinal plants.
She didn’t hear Baldwin enter, only becoming aware of his presence when his shadow fell across her notes. She looked up with a smile that faltered when she saw his expression. He stood in the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, his tall form silhouetted against the light from the corridor. The set of his shoulders was rigid beneath his dark tunic.
“I’ve identified six more herbs that have actual medicinal properties,” she said, trying to draw him into conversation. “The monks were right about yarrow stopping bleeding, but completely wrong about?—”
“We ride at first light,” he interrupted, his voice flat. “The queen has summoned us.”
Beth blinked. “Wait. Us?”
“Aye.” He stepped into the room, his boots making little sound on the rug. “You are specifically mentioned.”
The dread in her stomach intensified as she searched his face. The warmth that had begun to show in his eyes over the past month was gone, replaced by a guarded coolness she hadn’t seen since her first days at Glenhaven.
“You will need to dress as befits a noblewoman,” he continued. “Eleanor can help you prepare. At court, you must remain silent unless spoken to directly.” His voice grew harder. “This is not Glenhaven. They will not understand your wit or your knowledge.”
She gathered her notes, rising to her feet. The simple green gown she wore swished around her ankles. “What, is science illegal at court?” she attempted to jest.
Baldwin didn’t smile. Instead, he stepped closer, close enough that she could smell the leather of his jerkin and the faint scent of pine that always seemed to cling to him. “Do not reveal aught of what you know about the future,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Not even in jest.”
The gravity in his tone sent a chill through her. “Baldwin, what’s wrong? Why are they summoning me?”
For a moment, something flashed in his eyes, concern, perhaps even fear, but it was quickly shuttered. “The queen is curious. And a curious queen is a dangerous thing.”
Eleanor burstinto the solar later that afternoon, her blue eyes alight with excitement. She wore a riding dress of deep burgundy, her golden hair braided back from her face.
“You’re taking her, aren’t you?” she demanded of her brother, who was standing by the window, staring out at the courtyard below.
Baldwin turned, his profile sharp against the light. “I’ve no choice.”
“Then I shall come too.” It wasn’t a request.
Baldwin studied his sister, then gave a curt nod. “Perhaps ’tis for the best. You can help her prepare.”
After he left, Eleanor turned to Beth with a determined expression. “We have much to do. Court is not like Glenhaven.”
Beth followed her to the chamber where Eleanor flung open the chest at the foot of the bed and began pulling out gowns.
“I need you looking like a lady, not a—” she paused, eyeing Beth’s simple gown and loosened hair, “—whatever it is you are.”
Beth laughed despite her anxiety. “A chemistry teacher from the future?”
“Precisely.” Eleanor held up a gown of deep blue velvet against Beth. “This will suit. The color will bring out the green in your eyes.”
Together, they packed the few belongings she had acquired during her time at Glenhaven. Eleanor chattered about court etiquette while Beth struggled once more with the complicated layers of medieval undergarments.
“Saints, I’ll never get used to these stays,” Beth muttered as Eleanor pulled the laces tight.
“Better tight laces than loose morals, as the old women say,” Eleanor quipped, tying off the cords with practiced fingers.
Beth turned to face her, suddenly serious. “Why summon me at all? I’m nobody important.”
Eleanor’s hands stilled on the fabric of the gown she was folding.
“Because you’re breaking all the rules,” she said simply. “And they want to see what manner of woman does such things.”
Night had fallenby the time Beth climbed the narrow stairs to the battlements. The stone was cool beneath her feet, and she wrapped the borrowed cloak tighter around her shoulders. The moon hung full and bright over the lake, casting a silver path across the dark water. Summer had given way to fall, the air turning colder in the mornings and evenings.
