She opened the book. Turned the pages, where a master scribe had copied faithfully not only the fine hand of the original, but also the illuminations that had given that book its particular appeal for Flidais. Her father had had a copy in his personal library.

‘What beautiful pictures,’ she said. ‘Look, a little dog. A strange creature that is part snake, part bird. And here, an owl. How charming, Oran. Thank you so much.’ She closed the little volume and turned her lovely smile on me.

This was not quite the response I had expected. ‘It is a near-exact copy of Lucian’s Bestiary,’ I said, wondering if the upheaval of the journey could have made her forget a book she had described to me in such meticulous detail. ‘Ordered especially for you, long ago when we were first writing to each other. I was so full of hope, I arranged this even before we had agreed to wed. I knew you would find it hard to leave behind the treasure you so loved. I knew, also, that your father was unlikely to let such a valuable item travel with you halfway across Erin. It was copied for me in the monastic library where the original is held.’

Flidais was looking a little flushed now. ‘Oh, how silly of me! Of course it is the same, how could I mistake it? Oran, that is very sweet of you, and very romantic, and I love you for it.’ She set the book down on the table and put her arms around my neck, pressing herself close. ‘Sadly, the headache prevents me from reading at present,’ she said against my chest, ‘but perhaps you would read something to me? Just a short passage?’

‘Of course.’ I bent to bestow a kiss on her hair. She smelled of sweet herbs. In my arms she felt warm and pliant. How could I doubt her even for a moment?

Propriety suggested I should step back, and I did so, not without reluctance. It would be all too easy for the embrace to become something more, and something more again, and I could not allow that to happen. Not before we were hand-fasted. ‘Shall we sit down and take some of this mead? It’s Brid’s own brew. And Donagan has provided spice cakes.’ I was about to add that my body servant, usually such a stickler for correct behaviour, had surprised me this afternoon, but I did not. Better if Flidais believed this private encounter had been my idea.