He stood there, not looking at me but gazing out over the fields of Winterfalls. I saw in his expression that he did not truly wish to go away. I fought for words to convey what I was feeling.

‘You must think me very weak,’ I said, ‘if you believe that. You must think me unfit to be the prince of Dalriada; unfit to lead.’

Donagan sighed. ‘I think your nature has caused you to make an error. Unfortunately that error has led you into a situation that will be with you for the rest of your life. Believe me, Oran, if I could think of any way out of this, if I believed I could help you, I would stay. But you’re betrothed to the lady. More than that, you . . .’ He did not say it: You have bedded her already, more than once. ‘Your actions have not always met the standards I know you set for yourself,’ he said instead. ‘I cannot remain in your service.’

‘Where were you planning to go?’

He shrugged. ‘Does that matter? Away from here. To visit my parents, perhaps. But I will not stay at Cahercorcan, since you and Lady Flidais will be often there.’

No way out. A shiver ran through me; I gathered up Bramble and held her close. ‘I know this is my fault,’ I said, failing to keep my voice steady. ‘I believed in a dream; I have learned that doing so is foolish. I would say to you, perhaps she can change, perhaps we can reach a compromise, perhaps, given time, this will not seem so difficult.’ I drew an uneven breath. ‘But . . . Donagan, don’t dismiss this as another fancy, please . . . I think there’s something wrong. Something about Flidais. I cannot say what, exactly, but . . . if she had not come here with her own folk, if she did not so closely resemble her portrait, I would have said the woman who put her hand in mine and promised to marry me is not Flidais of Cloud Hill at all. She seems reluctant to engage in real conversation with me. She shows little interest in the pastimes we discussed in our letters. Bramble, whom she described with such tenderness, is frightened of her. And . . . when we are in each other’s company, her speech and her actions are sometimes . . . odd. Inappropriate. Something is amiss. I feel it in my bones.’