‘These stories were told around the fire, at night. They told people how to live right, how to see the dangers in the forest.’ He sat up a little straighter and continued. ‘The king was rich, and the princess was beautiful, but all her suitors had been scared off by the terms of the marriage. Eventually though, a young soldier in the king’s army, known for his bravery and strength, met the princess and fell deeply in love. He declared that he was not afraid of her conditions, and they married. For a while, they were very happy. The whole kingdom was happy.’

‘Well, that’s good. I don’t suppose they all lived happily ever after?’

‘After a few years, the princess grew gravely ill, and after lingering a while, she died. The soldier, now a prince, remembered with horror what he had agreed to and thought of fleeing the castle, but the king put guards on every door and window, and had the soldier watched every moment of every day. When the day of the funeral came, the soldier could do nothing but be marched to the princess’s tomb, and he was sealed in there with her corpse.’

‘So, the princess is a loon, clearly, but it sounds to me as if the whole family were nuts. Surely the sensible thing to do would have been for the king to say, all right, she had her funny ways, we will miss her terribly, and now let’s never speak of it again.’ Heather watched his face closely, interested to see if she could provoke a reaction – a man who cut women into pieces would surely have a temper, she reasoned – but Michael Reave just nodded slightly, as if he agreed with her, and carried on.

‘They had given him candles, so he lit one and waited for death, watching the body of his beloved. There were flowers entwined in her hands, dog violets they were, and they matched the colour of her lips. Soon he grew hungry, and thirsty, but there was nothing he could do. Eventually, a little snake crawled out of a hole in the wall – small and green and quick. Thinking it meant to bite the dead princess, the soldier leapt up and cut the snake into three pieces, killing it dead.’

Reave paused, brushing his fingers against his lips as if remembering something.