Chapter 19.1

Peter woke me early, when the only light came from a small candle on the windowsill. He had reached over Elise to touch me, and he kept his eyes on my face. "Time to rise."

Very gently, I freed my hands from my lady’s waist. "There is no Matins service here."

"The wedding," he reminded me. "You have to be on the steps by dawn."

I closed my eyes and sought a moment longer the warmth of my lady; then I stroked her hair. I kissed her eyes, her mouth, then the base of her throat.

"I’ll be reading by the fire," Peter said as he beat a hasty retreat.

I threw back the covers and let the cold shock us awake. Charles lay motionless in the other bed – apparently Peter had drawn the short straw and been forced to sleep on the floor. No wonder he had awakened so easily. I let Elise pull on her dress, then lobbed a pillow at the knight.

He caught it with one hand, then slowly opened his eyes. A crafty smile graced his face. "Time to be wedded?"

"To be sung together," I corrected him.

He nodded, rose, and pulled on his own clothes. As he belted on his sword, he glanced around the room. "Where’s the monk?"

"Reading by the fire," I signed. "He left before dressed."

Charles grinned. "I surprised. After all that wine and honey he drank last night, he should still be asleep."

So Peter had made himself at home. "I thought you went to say your evening prayers."

"Oh, this was afterwards," he assured me. He paused, looked around, and then signed with clumsy gestures. "You should know. He is Reinard’s older brother. He can claim Songless."

I nodded and signed back. "Wallen doesn’t know this yet. Did you tell Peter who Wallen is?"

Charles shook his head.

"Neither have I. We should be careful, untill this has been explained to Wallen. Peter told me that he didn’t want Songless, but Wallen could still see him as a threat."

Charles frowned as his hands moved. "All he wants is a place. If our lord would assure him of that, he would waive all claims on the land. He told me that."

Songless did need a steward, having lost Daniel to Saint William’s monastery. Peter was learned in letters and numbers, and seneschaucie would suit him better than following after a mute harpist for the rest of his days. "It should be so. Will you go and explain this to Lord Reinard?"

"I’m not in his best graces," Charles said aloud.

Neither was I.

I thought for a moment, but no answer came to me. I would need to walk through the spirit world with this question – but already the darkness was fading and new duties called.