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When she had escaped with her father from the castle prison, her father had been so weak and frail; almost a month in the jail seemed to have aged him ten years.

They had escaped through the chaos through a midden chute and had landed in a cesspit, literally.

Anyone would have smelled them a mile away.

But they’d been alive, and together, even if they’d smelled like refuse. Being alive was all that had mattered.

But she didn’t even have that now. They had all been separated and she was alone.

And whilst she’d been used to the occasional attempts at flirting from men before, being surrounded by hundreds of men at the camp made her wish for her former life selling bread at the market in Lincoln.

At least there, she’d always had her father or Wyot as protector.

She had no one now. But she found that she rather wished for Rupert, even just his smile, to brighten her day.

At the day’s end, once the servants had shared an evening meal and fed all those who were hungry, she slipped away and made up a small pallet for herself with some of the other women for safety.

They usually slept close together, or near enough as the fires would allow.

The men had women they slept with, but she was not one of them.

Nor were the empress’s ladies-in-waiting.

A few days later, she was working in the cooking tents when a page tapped her on the shoulder and said a lady wished to speak with her. He motioned for Bronwyn to come outside the tents, and she did, wiping her hands on her stained work apron.

“Yes?” Bronwyn said, then the breath whooshed out of her as Lady Alice embraced her.

“Oh.” Bronwyn hugged Lady Alice back. She felt awkward. Lady Alice smelled clean, whereas she stank of flour, cooking smoke, sweat, and probably worse. Their worlds could not have been more dissimilar.

Bronwyn at times felt they were not friends, but then a part of her doubted whether that was true.

They had been through an ordeal together.

Escaped with their lives through a cesspit together.

If that did not bond people in some way, then she did not understand human relationships and was clearly no judge of character.

Lady Alice released her. “Heavens, I thought I’d never see you again. I had to come and see for myself. Are you all right?”

“Yes. You?” Bronwyn glanced back at the tent. “And what of Rupert? Have you seen him?”

“We got separated. But I know he cares for me. He said he would find me once the battle was over, so I know it’s only a matter of time before we are together again.” She gave Bronwyn a beatific smile. “I’m so grateful to you for introducing us.”

Bronwyn tried not to wince. Her smile was bittersweet. She just hoped Lady Alice wouldn’t notice. “You seem to be doing well.”

Lady Alice looked over her shoulder. “I always land on my feet. Like a cat. My mother always said so. I could get you a place serving us ladies if you wanted. A better position. It must be an improvement on working in the cooking tents.”

Bronwyn looked at her fondly. “I’ve no doubt it would be, but I think I’m better off where I am. If they’re anything like the ladies of Queen Matilda’s court, I doubt they would like me, and I’d probably be the fool of their japes. I’ll stick to where I’m wanted.”

Lady Alice bit her lip. “About that… I mentioned you to the empress.”

Bronwyn raised an eyebrow.

Lady Alice adjusted a wrinkle in her skirt. “She mentioned that a mere servant had done her a favor, and I asked who, and when she gave your name, I said that I knew you very well, for you used to be a maidservant of mine.

“They were interested, especially since they learned that you had saved the empress’s life, although she did not say how, and I said how you used to be in the court of the queen.

The empress got mad at that, then amused.

” Lady Alice gave Bronwyn a serious look, meeting her eyes squarely.

“I think she means to use you in some of her schemes. How, I do not know, but you should be on your guard.”

Bronwyn laughed.

“I do not joke, Bronwyn.” Her expression was calm and unmoving.

“No, I’m just laughing at the absurdity of it all. She is an empress. What use would she have of me, aside from bringing her bread rolls?” Bronwyn shook her head. “No. You are mistaken. I am no one. A nobody. I’m surprised she even remembers my name. Not when she has a kingdom to run.”

“You speak kindly of the empress,” Lady Alice pointed out. “That is wise of you. Have your loyalties changed?”

Bronwyn pondered this. “I hardly know my own thoughts half the time. I couldn’t say.” She curtsied to Lady Alice and went on her way.

Bronwyn smiled. Lady Alice was wrong about the empress’s interest in a mere servant girl, but it was good of the lady to warn her.

She’s like a curious but haughty superior, well-meaning, who doesn’t realize her actions are like that of a friend , Bronwyn thought.

And they came from different worlds. What use would Lady Alice have for an ordinary baker?

For that matter, what use would an empress have for her?

Lady Alice called after her, “Wait. There is one who wants to meet you.”

Bronwyn turned. “Who? And why?”

“It’s Lady Eleanor. You’ll like her; she’s the nicest of Empress Maud’s ladies,” Lady Alice said.

Before Bronwyn could ask more, an older woman joined them.

She stood taller than average, slim, in a fine grey dress and veil, with a peek of wispy, faded, blonde hair peeking out from her hat.

She looked at Bronwyn with interest, and her brown eyes sparkled as she smiled and showed a pair of dimples.

“Lady Eleanor, allow me to introduce Bronwyn Blakenhale,” Lady Alice said. “Bronwyn, Lady Eleanor Cheswick.”

Bronwyn curtsied, and Lady Eleanor gave her a polite curtsey in return.

“Well met, Mistress Blakenhale,” said the lady. “I wonder if we might walk together and get some air?”

Considering they stood in an outdoor camp, there was nothing but air, but Bronwyn surmised the lady had some reason for seeking her out. “Of course.”

“Good.” Lady Eleanor took her arm. They began walking, and Lady Eleanor guided her through the camp, walking along the grounds as if there weren’t guards and people everywhere.

Bronwyn felt wary as they walked through a nicer area of the camp, where well-dressed knights, fighters, and women strolled, but none stopped the pair.

Two tents stood apart from the others. One was grand and had multiple guards posted inside and out, and there were voices of murmured conversations. The second tent was also well guarded but stood apart from the others.

“What is in those?” Bronwyn asked.

Lady Eleanor followed her gaze. “The first is where the empress stays. It is where she sleeps, keeps court, and makes her decisions. The other, smaller tent is where the empress’s belongings are kept. You know, her traveling trunks, her dresses and jewels, her crown.”

“She brought a crown with her?”

“Oh, yes. Do you know, when we came here from France, she brought two crowns and the mummified hand of St. James?”

Bronwyn shuddered.

Lady Eleanor laughed. “It’s not like she carries the hand around.

It’s a holy relic. One of her crowns is so heavy, it requires her to wear two metal rods on her shoulders, just to hold it up.

In any case, one of them is in there.” She pointed toward the tent that was manned by a pair of guards.

“I wouldn’t go poking around in there. Not unless you’ve got a good reason and don’t value your head. ”

Bronwyn nodded. “I’m surprised she brought a crown with her to Lincoln.”

“An empress never travels without her crown. It’s the single most important symbol of her right to rule. Without it, she might have a harder time convincing people that she is a ruler.” Her cheeks were rosy.

“But surely, the people would know.”

“Would they? Would you recognize a king or queen, or an empress, if you saw one?”

Bronwyn scratched her head. The first time she’d come across the empress, she had mistaken her for just an ordinary woman looking for a quiet place to urinate. “I guess not.”

“Exactly. And from what the empress tells me, you did not recognize her upon your first meeting. Although I am glad you were there to help.” Lady Eleanor gave her a little grin and whispered, “She told me everything. How you saved her life. She’s most grateful.”

Bronwyn couldn’t help it; the noblewoman’s impish smile was infectious.

Lady Eleanor took her arm and chatted like they were old friends, much to the curious looks of the other ladies-in-waiting.

One in particular, a young woman with thick, brown hair, a round face and chin, and narrowed eyes, looked at Bronwyn, her mouth twisting in distaste.

“That lady doesn’t seem to like me much,” Bronwyn said.

“Never mind Morwenna. She doesn’t care for anyone. To her, people are either to be used or envied. I don’t know which is better—or worse.”

They passed by two knights who walked by. One, Lady Eleanor whispered, was Sir Edward, a good and kindly gentleman knight. Sir Edward, a comely, stocky fellow with a head of thinning, blond hair and an alert gaze that seemed to miss nothing, gave Lady Eleanor a flirty wink.

Lady Eleanor blushed, but her smile quickly faded as Sir Bors gave her a leering grin.

Sir Bors, Bronwyn recognized, had survived the battle of Lincoln, she noted unhappily.

She knew it was harsh to not wish to see another person again, but so many innocent people had died in that battle, and possibly her own family.

For this boorish, rude, crass knight of King Stephen’s to have switched sides to the empress did not surprise her, but she disliked him greatly.

With a deep, booming voice that he loved to raise and a manner of standing in people’s way and making demands, he was one person she wished to avoid.