The women’s quarters had a degree of comfort that was little short of ridiculous. The place was vast, almost another house in itself, with a long sleeping chamber for serving folk and attendants – this was where I had been allocated a bed – and a separate, private area for Lady Flidais and Lady Sochla. Flidais had her personal maid, Mhairi, sleeping in an alcove near her. Lady Sochla had brought a number of maidservants with her from court, including her own attendant, Sinead. Sinead slept in the communal area with the rest of us. Sometimes she walked, fed or brushed the dog, Bramble. Sometimes she helped Lady Sochla to dress, but the prince’s aunt was an early riser and fiercely independent. Like her mistress, Sinead seemed a sensible person, someone who might answer questions without leaping to all manner of conclusions. But since she and Lady Sochla had only known Flidais since her arrival at Winterfalls, they would not be much help to me.

It seemed sensible to start with the three handmaids Flidais had brought with her from Cloud Hill, if I could get them to talk. Mhairi had evidently become Flidais’s personal attendant after the other one, Ciar, drowned in Dreamer’s Pool. She and Flidais seemed very close. The other two were Deirdre, the woman who had spoken kindly to me on the day of the drowning, and the older Nuala. Between them they looked after the lady’s wardrobe, ran to fetch things when she asked for them, made conversation to keep her entertained during the long hours spent over handiwork, and generally made sure her day ran as smoothly as it could.

Nuala’s husband, Domnall, was leader of the men-at-arms who had travelled in Flidais’s party, but for now the two of them were sleeping apart. That was apparently quite usual in households such as the prince’s; you took your opportunities where you could, and hoped that in time a cottage or other married quarters might become available. The prince’s offer of private accommodation for me and Grim had been more generous than I’d realised. If we’d accepted, we’d no doubt have put a few folk’s noses out of joint.

There were levels of authority in the prince’s household, and they took me a while to work out. Him at the top, of course, though he didn’t go around giving orders – things ran smoothly without any need for that. Lady Flidais and Lady Sochla were family, folk of noble birth. Then came Donagan – both servant and friend, only a step away from the prince himself. Aedan the steward had responsibility for the smooth daily running of the entire household, and was assisted by his wife, Fíona. Brid ruled the kitchen; Niall was in charge of a great body of farm workers; the grooms and stable hands answered to the cantankerous Eochu. The guards were led by a big man called Lochlan, Prince Oran’s master-at-arms. At the bottom of the heap were ordinary servants such as kitchen workers, seamstresses, folk who scrubbed floors or dug the garden or looked after the cows. Lady Flidais’s waiting women seemed to believe themselves on much the same level as Donagan, superior to all but the prince’s blood kin. That made approaching them tricky.