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“London? Unlike anything you’ve ever seen. People everywhere. Animals, churches, streets that wind around alleys and walkways and the food…” The cook smiled. “You’ll enjoy it. Just remember to come back and tell me all about it.”

They chatted a bit more about London. Bronwyn kept an eye out for Theobold, but he never returned, much to her regret.

In a few days’ time, Bronwyn rose at dawn and joined the retinue of knights, men-at-arms and fighters, along with ladies- in-waiting and other chosen servants, to begin the trek from Gloucester to London.

She yawned, squinting in the early morning light.

The season had changed and now it was June.

They walked, and it was a long train of people, making periodic stops along the way.

But then the ground changed. Gone were the wonderful shaded woodlands of Lincoln and winding roads and hills she’d come to know so well.

These were replaced with wet, damp marshland and rivers, and firm, hard-packed roads that were dry on some days and thick with mud the next.

She saw a great many people, travelers, who stood off to the side as the roads cleared of people to watch the party’s arrival. Her feet were tired and sore from days of walking with little rest, but they entered through a large, stone gate and passed through the great walls of the city.

It was so loud, and full of people, much more so than Lincoln, where she’d grown up. The buildings were so numerous, they were practically stacked on top of each other, and the streets were filled with people, animals, refuse, and the smell.

Bronwyn wrinkled her nose at the smells, which once had been as familiar to her as breathing, and the sounds of city living, but this was like two-fold what she’d known and had expected.

Some people cheered; others were quiet. It was not every day an empress rode in the streets of London and yet from the people’s glowering faces, Bronwyn wasn’t sure how welcome they were.

They walked through the city, stopping eventually in a place called Westminster, to take residence in the palace. Apparently, it had been constructed less than one hundred years earlier by Edward the Confessor, along with a grand abbey, called Westminster Abbey.

Bronwyn looked up at the fine stone walls and impressive glass windows.

She had been in awe since they’d arrived, but to be here, in London, it was like out of her wildest dreams. She had never left Lincoln before this year and now in just a few months, she had seen Gloucester and now London. What a feat.

But that evening, as she and the other servants worked with the castle staff to prepare for a feast, Bronwyn was called over by one of the cooks. “You’re Bronwyn?” The cook, a beefy man with thick, brawny arms, looked her over.

“Yes.”

“The empress wants you to serve at table tonight. You’re to serve her ladies-in-waiting.”

“Me? Why?” she squeaked. The idea of serving in front of so many people made her nervous, and yet she remembered Theobald’s words of warning. This was all part of the empress’s game to put her on display before Queen Matilda.

She didn’t like the idea of being used but didn’t have a reason to refuse, nor did she feel she could do so. “All right.”

In a few hours when the food was ready, Bronwyn removed her apron and unbound her hair, brushed herself down and helped carry in a platter of meat and bread, freshly baked.

As soon as she’d entered the grand dining hall of the palace, she felt eyes on her. She carried the platter with both hands, conscious of the strands of damp, blond hair that stuck against her cheeks.

She followed the pages and servants to the tables and set the platter down on a table.

The tables were arranged in the shape of a horseshoe, with the empress and her men at the center.

On either side sat ladies-in-waiting, knights, and some faces she did not recognize, likely members of the nobility.

Jugglers walked around the room juggling, musicians played lutes and pipes in light, playful music nearby, whilst people talked and laughed.

There was a light atmosphere in the room, but this was no ordinary party, for armed guards stood posted at the entrance and at the exits, with spears at the ready.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Bronwyn Blakenhale, here to grace us with her presence, straight from the kitchens.” Lady Morwenna smirked.

Bronwyn looked up.

Lady Morwenna sat beside Lady Alice and Lady Susanna, with others looking on. Bronwyn felt their eyes rake up and down her dress, her hair, and finding her wanting. But a fire kindled her in belly, and her spirit rose. She cocked her head and stared at Lady Morwenna’s mouth.

“What are you looking at?” Lady Morwenna asked loudly.

“You have food stuck in your teeth.”

The ladies giggled and tittered behind their hands, and Lady Morwenna’s face turned red. Her eyes narrowed, her mouth pursed, and she quickly took a large swallow of her wine. She pushed the empty cup at Bronwyn. “Get me a drink.”

Bronwyn fetched a pitcher from a passing servant who carried two and poured a fresh cup for Lady Morwenna. She felt their eyes on her and didn’t dare react, but when her gaze lifted to see Lady Alice, she was pleased to see her former friend smile.

She took a place behind the ladies as the knights began to slowly pound their fists on the table—first just a simple thud, a pound, and then it increased.

With the thudding and the thumping, the tables jostled and bounced beneath the force of the knights’ fists, drinks jumped and spilled, and platters shook.

The men didn’t care. The sound increased in speed and volume, until it was a loud thumping, thunderous, a cacophony of noise as the men cried out Empress Maud’s name.

Empress Maud grinned and slowly rose to her feet, taking a moment to enjoy the attention. As the pounding stopped, she raised a hand and began a speech about why they were here.

Bronwyn looked about the room. Beside the empress sat Sir Robert of Gloucester, Sir Ranulf de Gernon, as well as Sir Bors and Sir Miles. Behind them stood Rupert and Theobold, ready to serve.

She reflected on this. The same people who had been present when Lady Eleanor had been found dead, and when Sir Edward had presented the poisoned crown which had killed him. She felt more than ever that the secret lay behind one of them. But who would want to steal a crown and then poison it?

Lady Morwenna motioned for her to bring more wine, and Bronwyn poured her a fresh cup. Lady Susanna said, “Lady Morwenna, you should slow down. You’ll get drunk if you’re not careful.”

“What do I care about that? You should have a care more for yourself and stop sticking your nose in other people’s business. Don’t think I haven’t noticed where you’ve been going off to. You should be glad I don’t tell the empress about your little dalliances.”

Lady Susanna’s face clouded. “You said you wouldn’t—”

“And I won’t, provided you stop fretting about everyone around you. Stop worrying. Everything will be fine.” Lady Morwenna drank her wine.

Bronwyn felt her eyebrows rise. So Lady Susanna was seeing someone as well. Was everyone finding true love but her? She gave her head a tiny shake and got back to work, serving as often as the ladies wanted.

At one point, Lady Alice dropped a knife on the floor. “Bronwyn, pick that up for me.”

Lady Morwenna grinned.

Bronwyn went to her side, when Lady Alice turned her head and murmured, “You should speak to Lady Susanna alone. She often stays late at church after Mass.”

Bronwyn picked up the knife. Why would Lady Alice tell her this, unless she thought it useful? What did Lady Susanna know, and could it be related to the murders? And why was Lady Alice involving her again in court politics?

“Wipe it clean and give it here. I’ve no time for you to fetch another,” Lady Alice said.

Bronwyn did as she asked and stood back. The evening passed quickly. She purposefully did not look over at Rupert or Theobold, who both served the knights, just a few feet away. If they wished to speak to her, then they would have to make the first move. She would not be going to them.

After the meal had ended, she’d helped clear away empty platters, and returned with more wine from the cellar, Bronwyn passed by Theobold in the corridor. They did not speak, but he eyed her and opened his mouth, as if he wished to say something.

Well , she thought, if he has nothing to say, then neither do I. She kept walking and continued to supply the guests, particularly Lady Morwenna, with wine. Lady Morwenna burped and belched loudly, wavering in her seat. She lurched at Theobold as he passed by and crashed to the floor.

Lady Alice looked on in dismay, as did Lady Susanna. Theobold rushed to help her up, and Lady Morwenna babbled in his face, making him frown. He looked at the ladies. “I need to help her to her bed. Where is it?”

“I’ll help her.” Lady Alice rose.

“Uh, I need the privy. A chamber pot. Anything.” Lady Morwenna grabbed the empty wine jug Bronwyn was holding and vomited into it, loudly.

Bronwyn stepped back and let her retch. Theobold helped her stand, and with Lady Alice, they took Lady Morwenna’s arms and led her from the room.

The funny thing was, this caused little upset from the others. The empress chatted with her knights gaily and the men and women began to rise, to dance. The music grew louder, and Bronwyn turned to leave, gingerly picking up the now-used wine jug from the floor, holding it at arm’s length.

“Bronwyn,” Rupert said behind her. “Dance with me.”

She looked at him. “Rupert? I’m a little busy…”

“Yes, picking up a wine jug filled with bile. It will wait. Come dance with me.”

“I don’t know the dances.” Her heart beat in her throat.

“Yes, you do. They’re the same ones you’ll have grown up with.”

“I never really danced as a child.”

“Don’t be silly. Every child dances, at some point.”

Bronwyn faced him.

He touched his hair and met her eyes with a smile. “You are out of excuses.”

She swallowed and looked up at him.

His eyes twinkled and he held out a hand. She took it, and they moved around the tables to join a set of other dancers.

He was right. They were group dances that she knew from a younger age.

The music was better and the men and women were dressed finer than her stepmother and father had been in the bakery when they’d taught her how to dance, but they hadn’t neglected her schooling very much.

Her stepmother had been sure that the key to a man’s heart was through his stomach and had been keen to teach Bronwyn to become a very good baker.

But failing that, she’d needed to learn to dance, and move, and with a pretty step and a sense for timing, she might also attract a man.

Such had been her stepmother’s hope, long ago. But that had been before Lincoln had fallen to Empress Maud’s men.

Rupert led her in the dance, and she soon lost herself in the row of dancers, moving to and fro.

As they clasped hands, her heart raced. His fingers, so warm and gentle, almost seemed to caress hers.

She blushed and worried he might see. If he noticed, she’d say it was the wine, or the heat from the fire.

He turned her in a circle and said, “I think you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t.” Her voice rose.

“You have.”

“You’ve been busy. Everywhere I go, I see you and Lady Alice together. I don’t want to disturb you.”

He smiled. “She is very beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am, that a woman of her rank… fancies me. I’d never have expected it. Not in my wildest dreams.”

He was a man in love, Bronwyn realized, and a part of her heart seemed to crumble in regret.

She’d been falling for and admiring a young man who was in love with someone else.

It pained her, and she felt as if clouds had cast a shadow over her heart, when just being with Rupert had felt like dancing with the sun.

She smiled faintly. “I’m glad you are happy.”

“I am. But that’s not why I asked you to dance. I mean, I’ve wanted to dance with you, but… I wanted to tell you something that occurred on the road.”

“What’s that?”

“I was traveling to Bristol Castle with King Stephen—” He looked around and lowered his voice in case he was overheard. “With Stephen and his men, including my master, as well as the knight I now serve.”

“Sir Ranulf?”

“Yes. On the way, Sir Ranulf seemed pleased with himself, and once we got back and were all in the empress’s private chamber, he asked Theobold if he had gotten any further with the investigation about the empress’s crown. Especially whether he knew about the garrote used to kill Lady Eleanor.”

She breathed in through her nose. Her chest felt tight. “Oh? What did he say?”

“Theobold put him off. Sir Ranulf seemed amused at this but wouldn’t say why. Time grows short, Bronwyn. I do not think Theobold had an answer to give, so I wanted to ask you. Who do you think did it?”

Conscious that they were surrounded by others, she gave a slight shake of her head. “I do not know.”

“Well, I know something that might help.”

“What’s that?”

“When I was traveling, I rode with the healer’s assistant. We came to know one another during the journey and he told me about when their stores had been broken into, back in Gloucester. He told me about how the monkshood had been stolen. What he said was so strange was the scent of the scene.”

“What scent?”

“He said that even though some jars and pots had been disturbed and broken, the tent had smelled like roses. But they don’t often use roses in their medicines, as that’s more for cosmetics and dyes. And roses are out of season. So…”

“So we find out who wears a rose scent, and we’ll have our thief.” Bronwyn smiled for the first time that day. “Rupert, I could kiss you.”

He started. His gaze dropped to her lips.

Bronwyn blushed. “Sorry, I meant—”

Lady Alice’s voice cut through their exchange. “I think you can leave that to me, thank you.”