Chapter Thirty-Eight

The monthly visit to Daphne was long overdue. Following up her gift of freshly laid duck eggs would be hard but Miriam had something in mind. Such a shame it wasn’t the season for persimmons. Her sister was partial to them, as was she.

She was hoping to lay her hands on a long ago imported red wine from the Frankish territory. She hoped not to encounter any mice when she ventured into the cellar. No-one would notice its lack given that there were hundreds of bottles down there. In fact, King Gregory could have considered selling them to boost the treasury rather than bartering his youngest daughter.

Encountering Astrid as she was leaving the Great Hall following a morning spent hearing disputes, she asked for her help to search. The Norsewoman dressed like a warrior these days in laced trousers and jerkin, her long white-blonde hair secured in a single plait. She even trained with the men in the practice yard and was the proud possessor of her half-brother’s sword, though she insisted