‘I’m accustomed to allowing the community a role in making decisions,’ I told Flidais, ‘that is, decisions that affect their own lives and those of their neighbours. That is why I hold the councils; so I can listen to their concerns and take them into consideration. And I adopt the same approach within my own household. Everyone has a voice, from the most junior of stablehands to . . .’

‘To the prince’s body servant,’ said Donagan, poker-faced.

Mhairi laughed; Flidais did not.

‘I don’t consider Donagan a servant, though he’d tell you that is what he is,’ I said with a smile. ‘As I wrote in my letters, he and I have been companions and friends since we were boys. He’s my wisest adviser; worth ten royal councillors.’

‘Now you jest,’ said Donagan. ‘But, my lady, you will most certainly find that Prince Oran believes in allowing his folk freedoms that some other leaders might not. Aedan, Fíona and Brid ensure every aspect of the household runs smoothly. Eochu and Niall look after the stables and the farm. The prince trusts his folk, and they return that trust by doing their work well, with minimal direction.’

‘I see,’ said Flidais. ‘You are saying, then, that the prince’s wife will not have many responsibilities?’

‘I don’t believe that is what Donagan means, exactly.’ I bent to set Bramble down, taking care not to startle her. I was rewarded for my trust when she moved away to sniff something interesting in the long grass, trailing the leash. ‘True, you will not need to fill your days with constant supervision of our serving folk unless you choose to. You will not need to plan the work of the kitchens. You’ll want to play your part, of course. But it is early days. There will be time for those activities we both enjoy so much. And I hope you will assist me with the councils; the women of the community, in particular, will welcome your views.’

Bramble began to dig. Soil flew everywhere, making both women pull their skirts out of the way. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ said Flidais. ‘Bramble, don’t do that!’

‘What’s a little dirt? She’s a dog, after all.’ I glanced at Donagan, who favoured me with a grimace – the task of cleaning my clothing would fall to him. ‘It’s good to see your little friend more confident,’ I told Flidais. ‘Your letters described so beautifully the outings you and she enjoyed at Cloud Hill. If we take her walking every day, she’ll soon be herself again, I’m sure of it.’

‘Every day,’ echoed Flidais. ‘That is too much to ask of you, my lord. You must be so busy.’