The lady frowned at her amid the bustle of the kitchen, the morning light so bright that it blinded. Nan fumbled as she washed her face and hands. It seemed impossible to braid her hair neatly, and she wished her kerchief was cleaner. The knot in her stomach did not abate when she sipped the watered beer on offer.

Robin had left before the kitchen stirred, whispering to her that he was not a child anymore, and he would not have anyone think her lewd. He was ever chivalrous, even to a nobody like her.

“Honeyed water, not plain,” Nan said to the servant assembling the tray. “And cheese. He won’t ask for it, but he always likes a bit of cheese.”

Both the lady and the servant scowled at her when she did it herself, but she did not care. This was something she knew, and she could not let it be done incorrectly. Her lady preferred honeyed water in the morning, and Lord Robert loved cheese. She chose the most pungent, then set a milder one next to it. And a pile of wastel bread for him, too, with bits of apple in. She looked for anything else to add, but the tray was already laden with a variety of food, more than two people could ever eat.

Her hands were empty as she followed the scornful lady, because they would not let Nan carry the tray or the jug. They treated her as guest and not servant – a guest who had slept on the kitchen floor but was summoned to a private audience. It was not the solar they took her to, but a smaller room next to it. There was a large window, beautiful tapestries, and two chairs at a table set by the hearth.

Her lady waited for her there, alone. Lord Robert would not come. It was not to be that kind of meeting.

Nan made her courtesy, troubled by her stained kerchief, the coarseness of her dress, and most of all that Lady Eluned stood at the window and did not look out at the sky, but at Nan. When the refreshment was set out and the others left them alone, she felt her lady’s eyes on her. She could not seem to meet them.

“Sit, Nan, and eat.”

Lady Eluned filled two cups with honeyed water and added a touch of the wine. It was the good kind, the best their French vineyards had to offer. Nan knew it by the color and the scent.

It should not be so difficult. She had done this before. But it always took every ounce of boldness she had, to sit down with a great lady and take a cup that had been poured by her hand. Now she clutched the cup and stared at the food until Lady Eluned tipped the jug of wine again, adding a bit more to Nan’s cup.