The solar was no different from when she’d seen it last. Her mother was seated at the harp while Edgar looked her up and down with a wolfish grin. The strings twanged discordantly. Clara’s face resembled someone who had been chewing on lemons. “I heard you last night, little slut, moaning and screaming. Disgusting!” Eithne frowned. Did she mean … ? “It’s a rare vixen that enjoys being ravaged,” the Queen Dowager’s lover said, passing his tongue over his thin lips. “I had hopes for you, my daughter. Now I fear you will be relegated to service the lesser warriors.” “Rest assured, while ever I live, that will not happen.” “Service you well, did she, m’lord?” The leer was hateful and made her feel shame for something she had not done. “For your information, the Princess spent last night in her own chamber. Alone.” “You discarded her. Before or after?” Clara asked, as if she were discussing the weather or the price of fish. “Before. And I don’t answer to you, remember that.” So h

She woke to the clatter of maids and heard her mother’s strident voice raised in complaint. That was one sound she hadn’t missed. Someone squealed and she guessed Edgar had goosed one of the women. In her opinion the girl had gotten off lightly. Xander was not in the room. In some ways that was a relief, in others not. Eithne felt vulnerable, unprotected. Throwing back the coverlet she rose and went into the bathchamber. Everything was still and silent, except for the nearby chatter and the sound of weapons clashing in the training area. Had he gone to oversee that, perhaps to participate? She told herself she didn’t care. Using some more of the water he’d inexplicably fetched for her, she washed as thoroughly as it was possible to do without immersion. A knock at the door sent her into a panic, but she knew it couldn’t be him and an intruder wouldn’t have taken the trouble. Not wanting to use her voice in case it fetched her mother, she went cautiously to the door, clutching the r

Xander had already primed his band of mercenaries what to expect. He had not missed the tremor which shot through the Princess at his words. Leaving her to suspect the worst wasn’t his intention but it couldn’t be helped.Neither he nor Flavius could have predicted what was about to happen after the morning meal yet it had worked out fine and at least Eithne had some respite from the relentless cruelty he had played his part in inflicting. The problem was, she was just too lovely a creature for him not to take advantage of her ripening beauty.Quite why he had told the Princess she was a disappointment after deflowering her was something he was loath to examine. It had been a despicable thing to do and not his finest hour. He refused to put it down to guilt, yet what else could it be?Had he shouted it out solely to impress Clara? If so, he really needed his head examining.This further ‘training’ session was designed to keep her from being exploited by Clara. In reality, though she w

Though it was a wrench to leave the area, Eithne knew it was for the best. Seated on the donkey, it was easy to pretend she had been born to poverty. Flavius had taken his leave of them some leagues back and the two women made their way to a distant village largely in quiet companionship.Jocasta often whispered to her own beast of burden but she had no inclination to do the same.“I hate him,” she said, on one occasion as they stopped to top up their water flasks.“Who? Your brother?”“Xander,” she replied, not meeting the older woman’s eyes.“Did he beat you, pass you to other men? Was he a vicious and brutal lover?”“I – ” She could not frame the words now, knowing she had probably gotten off lightly, though not by the standards of royalty.King Stephen had talked often of a code which meant that invaders with breeding would afford their peers respect. As a princess she had not expected to be treated like a common slave. Well, now she knew how the other half lived. Maybe she could

The village wasn’t all that stable. Becca had told her that much as they went for what was probably an ill-advised walk along the cliff top a few days later. Eithne just had to get out in the fresh air for a while. She knew she was probably tempting Fate and possibly endangering her companion, but she hadn’t obliged her to come along. Unless … had Jocasta charged her with keeping her safe? When she asked what had changed, the girl volunteered there were more cutpurses about and, she had heard, slavers. Eithne’s heart began to beat faster. “We should go back,” she said, pulling the borrowed shawl more tightly around her shoulders. The gannets were especially noisy now, though she didn’t mind that. Plucking wildflowers, once a no-no, was a delight since she knew they wouldn’t wilt on the way back. So often as a child her daisy chain had withered, her miserable face leading Clara to impose a ban. Whether that had ever been for her own good she couldn’t be sure. Maybe she was jinxed,