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I’ve dined with kings and queens. With nobles so influential they could have changed the course of my life if they’d chosen to do so.

But somehow this supper, this impromptu affair, feels like the most important of my life. Because something tells me this night will determine everything.

“Whether ’tis a good decision or nay, I am glad you are here.” I raise my goblet. “To you, Lady Reyne, and your first adventure beyond the walls of Blackwell Castle.”

She lifts her goblet cautiously.

We drink, and when Bradyn brings the meat he and Gille cooked themselves, we eat our repast. As the tent grows darker, our conversation deepens beyond politesse. As we finish the spiced pears Bradyn purchased at today’s market, Reyne gives me a probing look and says, “I did not see you today.”

“We did not venture far. Rawlins’s threat has altered my purpose here.”

I’m honest with Reyne, telling her all of what I’ve learned . . . which doesn’t go far beyond what she and Warin already discovered. It is unusual for me to be so open—Gille often complains that I am too reticent with information—yet I find I want to share myself with her.

But as we finish eating, the conversation turns from Rawlins’s plot to last eve’s revelations. I apologize once again.

“I’d have told you about Isolda earlier.”

“Will you do so now?”

Although plenty of people have gossiped about the would-be match, I rarely speak of it. But I will break my silence for Reyne—she deserves to hear the story.

“As I’ve said, she was a lady in waiting to Cettina. She is the daughter of a minor Borderland lord. For a time, I thought myself in love with her.”

“Were you not?”

A question easily answered.

“Nay. Though we got on well enough.” I’m unsure how to explain. “My father was pleased when King Malcom brought me to the capital, but he was also concerned for our family. As you know, I have no brother or sister to inherit the lands. I promised that I would one day return, when needed, and Isolda, even though a Borderer, seemed a good match.”

Reyne listed intently, perhaps too much so. But now that I’d started, there is no choice but to finish.

“She was a beautiful woman. Desired by many men at court, including Lord Bowes.”

Reyne clearly knows who he is by her reaction. Of course, who in Edingham does not? It’s not every day a king executes a noble for carrying on with his daughter.

“One eve, so late at night I’d been sleeping, Isolda came to my bedchamber, crying. She confessed that she and Lord Bowes had been”—I clear my throat—“intimate.”

Reyne reaches for her goblet, a good thing, as the tale has only just begun.

“She confessed that she’d been seduced by him . . . and found a letter addressed to Lady Hilla in his chamber.”

I can see she understands where this story leads. Anyone on the Isle would have been able to finish it for me.

“Isolda told me that she’d been upset I refused to profess my love to her, despite that we were getting married. Lord Bowes had seduced her, said he loved her. That night, the second time they had been together according to Isolda, she spied a letter in his chamber addressed to the princess. In it, he said he thoroughly enjoyed their time together and, despite that Lady Hilla was married, he would never stop fighting for them to be together.”

I forge ahead, despite the tightening in my chest as I recall the events of that night.

“I was angry, of course. At Isolda for her unfaithfulness. But more so at Lord Bowes for his actions, seducing a woman betrothed and another married, and the princess no less. Rather than think through the repercussions, I turned, in anger, to the king. Told him what I’d learned and demanded Lord Bowes’s chamber be searched. The letter was indeed found, and seemed to confirm what had long been whispered— Lady Hilla and Lord Bowes were having an affair.” I shrug. “I assume you know the rest.”

King Malcom did punish Bowes, by beheading him. And he exiled both Lady Hilla and her husband.

“What happened to Lady Isolda?”

“She fled to Stoughrock. I’ve not spoken to her since that night. And, as you know, though I never mentioned Lady Hilla to anyone other than the king, Bowes publicly named her as his mistress before he died.”

“Leading the king to banish her and name Cettina as queen.”

“Aye.”