Camelee’s heart thumped so hard she was afraid for a second that it had stopped, and she was seconds away from passing out.
Genevra turned to the man. Camelee did the same. One of the king’s soldiers stood behind them. He wore a metal helmet with a piece coming down his nose, a chain mail vest, and a fur-lined cape.
“Chief Kristiansen says you are to come with me,” he said to Camelee. “You, your child, and your mother.”
Camelee’s blood ran like liquid fire through her. Her mother. Her child. No. No. She felt a rush of panic explode within her. She didn’t want this. This…this…losing this would end her. She had to keep these emotions locked away. She wasn’t loved enough. She couldn’t love enough.
“And—” She kept herself from holding on to Alric for support. She stayed up by her sheer force of will. “And my brother.”
“The chief did not mention a brother.”
“Well, I am mentioning him. We will not leave without him.” She knew what Alric had told her about showing affection, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t a coward like Wolf.
“I do not want to go with them,” Alric said, shocking her. “All they do is nag. Take them, I beg you, and give me peace.”
The little piece of– oh, he was clever. In her pride, she’d made him a target and he just repaired that. Now, only she appeared to be the weak one.
She looked at Alric. He could take care of himself. He’d already proven that by surviving with Aethelwold and Leofric.
Okay, then. She turned away and followed the man to the rear of the keep and a stairway that led to a two-room chamber off the kitchen. Chambers all to themselves. With one bed.
Leaving them inside, the soldier slammed the heavy wood door shut. The key turned. The lock echoed through the rooms, sealing them inside.
Camelee held her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.
Chapter Eleven
“Camelee, dearest?”
It was Genevra.
Camelee pulled away. Genevra was a stranger, not her mother. She couldn’t play this role. She wasn’t a daughter, a mother. She would never forgive Wolf for forcing all this on her. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to go home to her fans and Karen, and coffee.
“We must live the life we are given,” the older woman said.
“For what?” Camelee argued. “To have it all ripped away from you because of a stupid brooch?”
She didn’t realize tears were streaming down her face. She had to have gone mad. She had never cried so much in her life.
“What else is there to do? Give up?” Genevra shook her head. “I will not, and neither will you.”
“You can’t make me fight,” Camelee challenged, but was she sure? When servants ushered in an array of food and left it on the table, she wanted to eat.
“Mayhap not me,” Genevra told her and brought Hild to the table to eat.
Maybe not her, Camelee thought and stepped forward to stop the little girl. She took her by the hand and brought her to the basin filled with water and helped her wash her hands first.
Of course, Hild fought against it at first, but Camelee urged her gently and with patience, understanding that the babe didn’t know any better.
When Hild was clean, Camelee let her sit and eat. She smiled back at Genevra and sat beside her to eat. Yes. She would fight. She wouldn’t give up. But she wasn’t Hild’s mother.
“Alric.”
Genevra nodded and offered her a worried look. “You must speak to the chief.”
Yes. He might find Alric and bring him here if she asked. She knew it. She wouldn’t pretend otherwise. If she asked, he would do it.
“Yes. I will ask him.” She dipped her gaze to Hild eating and smiled with satisfaction. She looked up and caught Genevra smiling with the same satisfaction. They had the little girl in common. Even if Camelee didn’t want a child, she had one. And she had Genevra to help her.
