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“I have bread. Stolen right out from under their noses. Care to partake in filched goods with me?”

She gave me a wry smile and pointed to the chair across from her own as she set aside her sewing. Breaking the loaf in half, I gave a part to Verbia and kept the rest for myself. The bread steamed in the cool air wafting from the window. I stuffed a bite in my mouth, sighing contentedly as the tastes of chives, cheese, and yeast melted on my tongue.

“So good,” I said, taking another bite.

“Yes,” Verbia agreed, chewing happily.

I paused, arching an eyebrow at her, then merely giggled. “I won’t tell the cooks their craft was enough to get you to speak. We will not survive their ego afterward.”

At that, we both laughed, then sat and ate in happy silence.

CHAPTER 11

Cormag returned that night covered in grime and feeling exhausted. I had Kamden draw him a bath—my husband had still not employed a man to see to him, waging a silent war with Hilda on the matter—then helped my husband into the tub, sitting on a stool behind him where I ran a warm cloth across his back.

“Only once the thatch was off did we see the damage to the supports. Had they gone another week, the whole roof may have collapsed. The poor woman was shy about asking for help at first, but she warmed to us.”

“As she should have. She will sleep comfortably tonight due to your efforts.”

“It may take years for the Brigantes to see the Votadini as allies.”

“We will win them over,” I said, noticing Cormag flinch when I ran my hand over his left shoulder. “Are you in pain?”

“Just strained.”

I set the rag aside, poured oil on my hands, and rubbed his shoulder gently. The wound from the arrow had healed, but a scar remained. “You have worked hard today for our people, my husband. I honor you for it.”

Cormag was still for a time and did not respond. After a while, he took my hand and placed a kiss thereon, then turned to me, an odd expression on his face.

“What is it?” I asked, confused.

Cormag’s brow narrowed. “Nothing,” he said, leaning in to kiss me, but I pulled back.

“Not so fast, selkie. What was that look?”

He gave me a wry smile. “It is truly nothing.”

“Cormag…”

“It is only…” he said, then sighed. “When we met at your father’s funeral, I saw the way some others looked at you—Prince Venutiux and King Eddin. I am not unaware of their affection for you. And still, you married me.”

“Do you believe we are fated to walk our paths?”

Cormag nodded.

“As do I. And never would I have thought to fall in love with a crow, but our destinies were intertwined the moment you carried me from the blackthorn thicket. I love you, Cormag.”

“If things had been different…”

“If things had been different, there is no saying what would have happened. But we are together now. Or,” I said, then grinned at him, “are you pining for some lost Votadini love? Some bewitching yellow-haired vixen, perhaps.”

Cormag laughed, then splashed water at me.

I ducked. Laughing, I moved him back in place and lifted the pitcher to wash his long, black hair. I gently poured the warm water over his head, then worked the spiced soap into his long locks, rinsing them when I was done. I rose and went to get him a cloth, but Cormag stepped from the tub and pulled me close.

“I love you, Cartimandua,” he whispered in my ear.

“I love you too,” I whispered in reply.