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“She did. We argued about it before. I… told her not to. That we’d find another way.

” But Lady Alice hadn’t waited for her, or thought of any other way herself.

Then she realized, Lady Alice had simply assumed Rupert would give her credit for handling the intrigue when he reported it. But he hadn’t.

“Lady Alice used me in her scheme? But why?” Rupert’s voice was tight.

She didn’t want to reveal the truth, that Lady Alice wanted credit for the intrigue, and they were both just pawns to her. “I couldn’t say.”

“Try. One of you is lying. Which is it, you or her?” He looked at her, his eyes hard. “Bronwyn, I—”

“You there. What’s all the noise?” Theobold’s voice called out.

Bronwyn looked past Rupert.

Theobold’s mouth withered when he saw them together. “Bronwyn? The screaming was you? What happened?” He crossed the walkway when Lady Morwenna cried out and threw herself into his arms.

Theobold’s eyes widened as he held her. “Lady Morwenna, what are you doing here?”

Lady Morwenna trembled and wept in his arms. He gave her a comforting pat on the back whilst looking daggers at Rupert and Bronwyn. “Will somebody tell me what’s going on?”

“There’re bodies,” Lady Morwenna said tearfully. Her thick, brown hair tickled Theobold’s nose and he sneezed.

More figures appeared at the entrance to the parapet. “What’s going on here?” Sir Ranulf asked.

“Oh, my lord Sir Ranulf.” Lady Morwenna ignored Theobold and hurried to his side. “It’s the most terrible sight. Two men are dead.”

“I know. Empress’s order. Now they’ve learned the cost of betraying Empress Maud,” he said. “Come away, girl. This is no sight for a lady.” To Rupert and Theobold, he added, “Theobold, see to your master. Rupert, pack my saddlebags. Tomorrow we’re off to escort the prisoners to Bristol Castle.”

“Bristol?” Theobold said.

“Aye. We leave at dawn. The empress wants the false king to have a special meal first.” He departed, escorting Lady Morwenna down the steps.

Theobold came over. “Bronwyn, are you well?”

She nodded and wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

She noticed his eyes dart to her chest and realized the strings of her dress were undone.

In her haste to find the source of the screaming, she hadn’t attired herself properly.

She quickly turned and did up the laces and stood, conscious of her stocking feet cold on the stone. She brushed down her skirts.

“I came when I heard the screams. I found Lady Morwenna hanging off of the stone.”

“What?” Theobold’s mouth dropped open.

“I helped her up. Then we saw the bodies. I was sick,” she said.

“Yes, I can see that.” His voice was chilly. “What was she doing up here, alone with two corpses?”

“I don’t know. She didn’t say.” And she wondered how Lady Morwenna had fallen in the first place. The stone parapets were high enough that a person would have to be very unlucky to trip over the side, unless they’d been pushed.

“I don’t like this. You’re at the heart of this mess, for sure. Trouble just follows you around.” Rupert shook his head at her.

Theobold gave him a hard stare. “Right. Bronwyn, you’d best be going. No doubt they’ll need you in the kitchens.”

She ducked her head and walked away. Instead of leaving, though, she entered the exit and paused just inside the entrance, hidden in the shadows.

“What say you and I have a little talk, Bothwell,” said Theobold.

“As it please you,” Rupert said.

“What is your interest toward the kitchen maid?” Theobold asked.

“You mean Bronwyn? We are good friends.” His voice rose.

“Is that why you comfort her and instead treat your Lady Alice with coldness? I saw you at the dancing. You stood by and ignored her wishes to dance.”

“My master would have minded.”

“Your new master wouldn’t. And why is it that you inserted yourself into the empress’s affairs? Saving her life like that was a bold move.”

“I only saw her in distress.”

“She is the leader of the opposition to your side. You could have let her choke to death.”

“No, I couldn’t. She is also a woman, and a person. Even if I disagree with her policies.” But his voice sounded unsure, and Bronwyn was not the only one to notice.

“You want to gain the empress’s favor. I should have known. A word to the wise, she doesn’t care for turncoats. You’ll have to do more than save her from choking to gain her full trust. She’ll have forgotten about that incident within a day. Good luck with that.”

Rupert retorted, “Why are you questioning me about whom I curry favor with? And you have no business questioning my relationship with Lady Alice. Besides, I thought you fancied Bronwyn.”

“Me, fancy a kitchen maid? Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t like a man with stratagems, especially when it involves the empress. Just keep out of my way.”

Bronwyn hugged the shadows and crept into a small archway not far from the entrance.

She did not wish to hear more. So neither Rupert nor Theobold liked her as more than a friend, and even that was questionable.

Oh, to be beautiful, when she was anything but.

She blinked hard and wiped away a tear. Never mind love, or desire.

She would have none of it. Bronwyn thought to herself, I am a baker, and I’ve got a mystery to solve.

I have more important things to do than fancy two men at once.

She learned from the guards that the bodies had been hanged there the previous night, as punishment for helping Stephen escape, and as a warning to all who dared help him.

They might have been hanging over the side of the castle, but the news spread and everyone, lord and lady and servant alike, knew of the guards’ fate within hours.

Apparently, the empress wanted the bodies to stay up longer, but the message was loud and clear, and it had spread without needing fresh corpses to look at over breakfast every morning.

They were to be removed in a day or two, Bronwyn heard.

She hoped rather than trusted that this would be the case.

Something about this move didn’t sit right with her. It was ugly, grisly.

Once Bronwyn had returned to her room and properly attired herself for the day, she went to the kitchens to begin work.

But her energy was dull, and she felt slow, her mind dwelling on the sight she’d seen early that morning.

No man deserved to be strung up like that, like a sad puppet.

It was beyond humiliating, for it was public humiliation after death.

There was something unconscionable, even un-Christian, about that, it seemed.

A page walked into the kitchen with a funny look on his face. He whispered something to one of the cooks, who stared, asked him to repeat it, and then cursed. He frowned.

“What is it?” Bronwyn asked. It wasn’t like the day could get any worse.

The cook said, “We’ll not do that. We’ll send him a plate, same as anyone else.”

She approached. She did not know the cook’s name, for there were many dozens of staff in the kitchen alone, not to mention the rest of the castle household. “What’s wrong?”

He ran a floury hand on his apron. “Direct order from the empress.” He paused, looked at the floor, then back up at her. “She wants… In return for his attempted escape last night…” He let out a noisy breath. “It’s Ash Wednesday. The start of Lent.”

“Yes. Did she want a meal sent up?”

“Aye, but not for her. For Stephen in the cells.”

“That’s nice. So what’s wrong?”

He looked pale. Sweat dotted his forehead. “She wants a platter of rotten fish guts and bones to be sent to him. As a farewell gift. Fish gut soup.”

Bronwyn felt ill. “But that’s… wrong. That can’t be right.”

“That’s what I said. But the boy said it came from her own mouth. Do we dare disobey her order? She is the empress.”

She frowned. “No. We do what she asked.”

His eyes widened. “But to do that… No, I couldn’t. And those fish guts…” He glanced at the pile of them on a platter nearby, where flies buzzed.

“I know. We use the bones to make a stock broth and pass the liquid through a sieve to clear it away from any remaining bones. Serve it with a bit of old bread and it’ll be a strong fish broth.”

The cook nodded. “Smart. I’ll do it now. Then we can say we did it, and no one’s the wiser.”

She agreed. “I’ll help if you like.”

“No, I’ll do it. I took the message.”

Within a few hours, Stephen was delivered a bowl of hearty fish stock, complete with fish heads floating on top for effect. Aside from the grisly topping of fish heads, the soup smelled delicious. With a bit of crusty old bread, it won’t be so bad , Bronwyn thought.

The next day at dawn, she rose early and crept into an empty room.

Bronwyn stood by the windows on the first floor and watched as a small group of knights escorted a covered wagon away from the castle.

From any ordinary viewpoint, it would appear as though it were a simple cart, perhaps containing food or market wares.

No one would know it would bear a rebel king and his loyal knights inside.

She spotted Sir Ranulf and Rupert, along with a handful of other armed men, riding out. She turned to leave when a sharp voice said, “There you are. Just the maid I’ve been looking for.”

Bronwyn turned around. “Lady Alice?”

“I suppose it is too much to ask you to speak to me with a civil tongue, since you obviously bear no respect for me at all,” Lady Alice declared, entering the empty room.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and your stupid, insipid, busybody ways. I know you told Rupert about the lie about the plot on the road. That was none of your business.” Her upper lip curled.

“You shouldn’t have lied to him,” Bronwyn said.

“That’s not your concern. I’ll speak to him however I want.”

Bronwyn glared at her. Lady Alice glared right back.

“As your friend, I’m telling you—”