She put the knife on the table, kissed her fingertips and touched them to the M on the handle, a strange and sweet little ritual. She turned to face him but did not look up. Instead she reached down and quickly pulled her skirt to her knee, revealing her garter. The little silver knife was kept hidden there, and she pulled it out. It fit perfectly in her hand.

“So I went to work for a weaver’s wife, cleaning and cooking until the weaver died.” She kept her eyes on the knife. “I was more grown then, and the widow married herself to a man who took a fancy to me. Most women would beat me and throw me in the street, and say I tried to seduce him away. But Ida, she looked out for me. She found me work in a kitchen in Chester, and told the cook I was a good girl and should be treated well.”

The silver knife was set next to the other, and he saw the I scratched into it. He had seen it countless times, but never thought it was meant to be a letter. Ida.

She bent again and brought the dagger out of her boot. It was tall and elegant, rarely used, and now he saw the letter I engraved in the quillon as she ran her fingers over it.

“Isabella,” she said, almost with an air of shy apology. “She stood between me and that lord who killed Oliver. She were a lady and a stranger to me. Her disgust is what moved her, not any love for me. One night she came into the room and saw me there, and what he done to me. She put herself in front of me and would not budge until he left me in peace.” She lined the dagger up on the table next to the other blades. “And so I was saved again.”

Finally she looked at him, a shot of clear blue meeting his eyes through the lamplight. She reached behind her to the dagger that hid in her belt, the one she had first put to him when he had touched her hair uninvited. He did not look down at it. He did not need to. He remembered the twisting symbol and now understood what it was.

“Gwenllian,” she whispered, like it was a word full of magic. “My teacher. It’s how I know to speak Welsh, because a Welshwoman taught me this defense.” Her eyes dropped to the dagger, resting on the G that was on the grip. “I didn’t have no kind of strength or skill that could protect me until she gave it to me. She made it so I could save myself.”