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B ronwyn hurried to the castle courtyard to see. The men were returning from Bristol, and she would see Rupert again.

She moved as fast as her feet would take her. But then she stopped. It felt wrong, somehow. For many nights, since he had left for Winchester with the empress, she had thought not of Rupert, but of Theobold. But her lips pursed in a frown. The very thought of him annoyed her.

He had hurt her so, more than once. Theobold was hard to follow.

Warm and caring one moment, and cruel and harsh the next.

He seemed to value her opinion, and had even asked for her help in finding out who killed Lady Eleanor and Sir Edward.

So why would he go to such trouble to seek her out and spend time with her, only to declare she meant nothing to him?

It pained her worse than eating bad fish.

But then of course, he’d only taken an interest in her because the empress had ordered it.

That hurt more than anything, to know that he had been fake all along.

She stood in the shadows as the column of men entered the courtyard. The air filled with sound as grooms, stableboys, pages, and porters came out to meet them. She was glad she stayed back, for Lady Morwenna walked out, followed by her fellow ladies-in-waiting, Lady Alice among them.

The ladies stood not ten feet from where Bronwyn watched, talking amongst themselves. Lady Morwenna said, “Well you must be excited, Lady Alice. You’ll see your squire again. Although why you lower yourself to dally with a mere squire, I’ll never understand.”

One of the ladies tittered at this. Lady Alice’s cheeks turned pink.

Bronwyn noticed Lady Alice held her tongue. Why was that? She was normally quick to respond, especially to perceived slights and insults.

“But then perhaps he has forsaken you. I did see him talking with that kitchen maid Bronwyn before he left,” Lady Morwenna said. “And I saw them walking together more than once before we came to Gloucester. Perhaps he has thought of her on those chilly nights instead of you.”

Lady Alice said nothing and stared straight ahead.

“In my family’s household, no servant in her right mind would dare show her interest in a man I fancied.

But then, he will be a knight someday, and soon.

There’s no clear sign that will ever happen for your dear Rupert.

And I heard that now he serves his old master in Stephen’s court and Sir Ranulf.

Is he hoping that one will raise him to be a knight if the other doesn’t?

” She laughed. “But I suppose we shouldn’t begrudge you an idle fancy.

Theobold is handsome, at least. Do you know, I once told a servant that if she kept talking to Theobold, she would catch the pox?

She ran away that day and it took five servants to convince her to return.

She wouldn’t even go near him if he was nearby.

” Lady Morwenna giggled. “Stupid girl. At least she knew better than to try her luck with him again.”

Bronwyn’s eyes widened. Maybe it was a good thing that Theobold didn’t fancy her. If he had, she’d have to put up with Lady Morwenna’s jibes and intrigues, and they could be deadly.

“You fancied Theobold the squire?” Lady Susanna asked.

“No, of course not.” Lady Morwenna avoided Lady Susanna’s gaze.

“He is simply a pretty face, and we grew up together as cousins. He is indebted to my family for arranging his position with Sir Robert of Gloucester. He has long admired me, but he is only a squire, so he is not worth my time. Once he becomes a knight, however, then I will consider his suit.”

“Has he made you an offer of marriage?” Lady Alice asked.

For a second, Lady Morwenna’s look was like daggers before she was smiling thinly. “No, not yet. But he will, once I give him a sign that I will accept him. He’s only waiting for the right time.”

Bronwyn’s shoulders slumped. No. If what Lady Morwenna said was true, he was her champion and always had been.

Bronwyn had no business thinking of him in that way.

And for a second time, a man she’d had hopes for in fact fancied another woman.

Maybe she should swear off love entirely and become a nun.

She stood by and watched as the knights, men at arms, and squires returned with the empress’s carriage in the company. Men stood at attention, weapons ready, as Sir Miles escorted the empress from her carriage. Sir Robert stood by with their squires.

“Oh, there he is,” Lady Morwenna said excitedly.

Sure enough, Theobold, moving slowly with fatigue, his black curls disheveled and clothes wrinkled, took up a place not far from his master and stood at the ready.

“And look, there’re the men from Bristol. They must have followed the empress from the main road. Lady Alice, where’s that squire of yours?” Lady Morwenna asked.

Bronwyn watched Lady Alice closely. Something was wrong with her, but she couldn’t tell what.

“He’s not my squire,” Lady Alice said flatly.

“Oh, right, of course. You two had a falling out, I heard. What a shame, considering how close he is with that kitchen maid. But then I always say, like attracts like. If he’s choosing to spend his time walking with her rather than with you, you shouldn’t waste your time.”

Lady Alice turned and saw Bronwyn watching, and her eyes widened. She whirled back around, raising her chin. Her shoulders were stiff, as if expecting an attack, and Bronwyn knew better than to try to say anything.

Bronwyn wanted to go to her, reassure her, but a part of her also felt pleasure at Lady Morwenna’s words.

So Lady Morwenna had learned that Lady Alice and Rupert had parted ways.

Did that mean it was okay for Bronwyn to tell Rupert how she felt about him?

Her mind raced, searching for an answer.

How did she feel about him? She touched the wooden frame of the doorway she hid by, watching.

She wanted to feel something solid, as her feet felt unsteady beneath her, mirroring her thoughts.

Did she still care for Rupert? She felt like to express her fondness for him would betray Lady Alice, even though they had most recently fought. Were they even still friends? Had they ever been? Lady Alice seemed to think not. So were they acquaintances? She didn’t know.

As the men followed the empress through the courtyard and into the castle, Theobold was looking around for someone, as was Rupert.

Lady Morwenna embraced Theobold, whilst Lady Alice went to greet Rupert, a big smile on her face. Both young men reacted warmly, which sent a dagger through Bronwyn’s heart.

She kept to the shadows and slunk away to the kitchen. She’d talk to the young men later. She didn’t want to see their romantic embraces with other women.

The next day, Bronwyn spotted Rupert and Lady Alice walking together, their heads close together. Lady Alice seemed animated; Rupert did not. Lady Alice caught Bronwyn’s eye and touched Rupert’s arm, her eyes never leaving Bronwyn’s.

The following afternoon, Bronwyn spotted Lady Alice and Rupert together again, and the day after that. She grew sick of seeing them together. If it wasn’t seeing them looking happy and in love, it was seeing Theobold and Lady Morwenna walking together, arm in arm.

She tapped a foot angrily. She’d seen Theobold around and yet he had made no move to speak with her.

Not a single word as to whether he’d learned anything about the murders since they’d last spoken.

It riled her, but not as much as seeing Lady Morwenna laughing and wrapping her hands around his arm.

Bronwyn stayed in the castle kitchens and rose only to do her work.

She wanted to figure out who had been in the empress’s tent during the night of Lady Eleanor’s murder and thought on it whilst making rolls, skinning animals, and stirring soups.

Anything to take her mind off of the loving couples who strolled the castle grounds, laughing and talking together.

She felt so alone. She had no friends. Her family, if they still lived, was likely hundreds of miles away in Lincoln, and she had no one whom she could trust. She longed to have someone to whom she could speak honestly, and bare her soul.

But she didn’t. All she had was herself to rely on, her mind, her wit, and the baking skills her family had instilled in her.

She would solve Lady Eleanor’s and Sir Edward’s murders—and Mabel’s, too, since it probably had not been an accident.

Lady Eleanor had been so kind to her when they’d met; she couldn’t bear to see their murderer go unpunished.

She thought. That night, there had been herself, Theobold, Sir Bors, Lady Eleanor, Sir Robert, Sir Ranulf, and Sir Miles in that tent. Sir Bors had said that he’d found Lady Eleanor attempting to steal the crown for herself and tried to stop her, when he’d been hit over the head by a guard.

But if what the empress had said was to be believed, and there was no reason Bronwyn should not believe her in this, then Lady Eleanor had been innocent, and she would have no reason to steal. Had she simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Why would she have gone to the tent?

Something must have caught her attention.

She might have gone in there to hide during the battle, or to look for the empress.

For whatever reason, she had been there.

So why had Sir Bors been there? Had he been telling the truth, and he’d caught Lady Eleanor trying to steal?

But the empress seemed to mistrust his account, and with one guard dead and another gone, there was no way to tell what had really happened.