There was such sureness in her words that he almost missed the hint of uncertainty in her face. It was not to do with him. I know my place even do you not know your own, she had said to Robin.

But she wore silk and embraced a great lady like she was her own mother.

“You are more than what you were born to. Far more.”

The shake of her head was faint but distinct, a rueful gesture that said she thought he did not understand. “You know little of me.”

“Then tell me,” he urged. “If you will scorn words, I am forced to know little of you.”

She looked at him with a gentle furrow to her brow, blinking. He watched her search for words, as though he had asked an impossible question that pained her. Almost did he repent of it, fearing the impulse that had spurred her to come to him and speak at last, would fade. But he bit his tongue and waited, because he did not want to spend this night in thinking of his own fate. He wanted whatever she would give him of herself.

She took another step to reach the low table next to the bed, where his candle burned. She set her little lamp next to it. Her hand went to the eating knife at her belt and removed it.

“I had a baby brother who died starving in my arms, because there was no food nor pity to be had.”

The words were like hailstones falling on him. The tension at the corner of her lips, the stiffness of her posture said what she did not put into words – that no matter his misfortunes, such things did not happen to princes. And if ever they did, all agreed that it was a horror, something that should never happen. Not to a prince.

But she blinked the bitterness away easily, it seemed, and looked down at the simple eating knife she held. She tilted it so that the handle caught the light and revealed a pattern of lines scratched deeply into it, and spoke into the hush.

“My mother died having him, and we were all starving, so my father looked to sell me into service. I would have gone to a man who was like that tanner, wanting little girls in his bed, but for Aunt Mary.” Her finger traced over the lines and he saw suddenly that it was meant to be the letter M. “She shouted that she would not let it happen, and found me a better place. That were the first time I was saved from an ugly fate.”