Chapter Seventy-Five

When Miriam sought an audience with the King, Ruth was already prostrated before him. She didn’t have to cudgel her brains too hard to work out the reason why. Her own mission was on similar lines, but she wasn’t about to cut in given the impressive nature of this heartfelt plea.

She felt pleased, too, that Jenna had sought to inform her in advance of her fellow housekeeper’s plan, even if Ketil had grumbled about the intrusion into their personal time.

King Hubert’s face was impassive, though she thought she saw a softening as he looked down at the housekeeper. Her hard work was a byword, she had never given a moment’s trouble and it wasn’t as if her husband’s fatal attack on the Prince was unprovoked.

“Get up, Mistress Olafsson,” he said, after a time. “I am sure those flagstones are cold and uncomfortable.”

“I care naught for that, Your Majesty,” she replied.

“Then I fear I must make it a command,” he told her, beckoning to Miriam with a crook of his fingers.

For some reason she th