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And here, we wait.

“Aiken? What is this place? What do we wait for?”

“Who is she and why is she here?”

We both turn toward the sound of the deep voice.

“I’m surprised it took you this long,” I say to the new arrival. Hilla looks back and forth between us.

Although he’s seen more than seventy summers, our new companion stands tall, nearly as tall as I. His hair is now completely white, his bearing as regal as ever.

“Lady Hilla,” I answer. “Sister to the Queen of Edingham.”

In all these years, I’ve never been able to surprise him as I’ve done this day.

“Hilla,” I say, “this is Lord Baldric Orazio.”

My mentor. My savior.

And one extremely angry man.

“You should not have brought her here.”

Baldric and I sit in the corner of the small hall. Hilla has left us to wash up after our long journey. Within minutes of meeting her, Baldric arranged for a bath, a meal and a gown. If need be, the man could summon a ship from Murwood End. A Garra from the heart of the Highlands. In some ways, he is more powerful than the king himself.

“Where,” I ask, “would you have had me bring her? Directly to court after so many days of travel? Before I know that it’s safe?”

Baldric, who’s been frowning since we came, does not relent. “You could have sent word.”

“Aye,” I agree. “I could have.”

He would be less pleased to hear my reasons for not doing so. I’m certain Baldric would not consider Hilla’s comfort a reason to put off another delay. So I use another.

“Silvester will become suspicious if I am gone too long. Is he in d’Almerita yet?”

Although we are separated from others, and both Baldric and I trust every man, and woman, in this establishment, not all know of my current assignment. Indeed, had I appeared in my robes it would have caused a stir. One Baldric would clearly like to avoid.

“He’s here.”

Finally, we move on from Hilla.

“Tell me.”

Baldric clearly wishes to berate me further over Hilla. But he is pragmatic, more so than most. So instead, he forges ahead after taking a large swig of ale.

“He meets with the king in three days’ time. But none are hopeful of the outcome. While you’ve been gone, Hinton’s supporters have grown bold.”

After the king publicly refused to name his nephew as heir, Lord Hinton made no secret of his intention to fight his uncle for the throne. In the weeks that passed since I’ve been attempting to quell the unrest at the border, under the guise of supporting it, it seems matters have not improved.

“He is a fool.”

Father Silvester already showed his hand by meeting so publicly with Hinton. Whatever his demands, King Galfrid will have none of it.

The die has been cast. Tis only to be made formal, Galfrid’s break with the head of the church. And then, war.

“No less so than Hinton. Tell me of the princess.”

I recount everything since I’d last spoken to Baldric. Of the Tournament of Loigh and the meeting to which Silvester sent me, the one Lord Whitley himself attended which alerted me to his plan. I tell him of my alliance with Queen Cettina’s commander, Lord Stokerton. And of Craighcebor. I end with the current situation that sees Lady Hilla abovestairs in a place that no one but its members should be allowed to enter.