The pastures were endless here and probably more fertile. Eithne bit her lip. She hoped she was with child, though it was too soon to tell.
Each province had its own dialect so that her correct Frankish wasn’t always enough for her to make herself understood. But she seemed to charm all she met. Was that because Princess Genevieve was by her side, waving to the people from the litter? It was quite obvious Xander wasn’t so popular.
He probably didn’t care, but she did. If they were going to rule here, they had to command respect from their subjects.
“What happened?” she asked him that night as they lay beside each other in bed.
She was still his betrothed as the priest had been stricken with something and it had seemed churlish to postpone their trip.
“You mean, how did they get rid of me before? I walked,” he said.
Her forehead puckered.
“I don’t understand.”
“The people kept on and on asking me about Genevieve until I couldn’t take it any more.”
“So you deposed yourself? If such a th
