I did not fit anywhere. A wise woman might have many folk coming in and out of her house, bringing gifts or bribes or payment, taking away herbs and draughts and good advice. But our kind generally lived alone. If I’d been attached permanently to a noble household – unlikely – I’d perhaps have been afforded the respect owed to, say, a druid. Perhaps. But at Winterfalls I was an oddity, and it was clear folk did not quite know what to make of me.

For all its smooth and seamless organisation, this was not a household in harmony. There was tension between the household guards and those who had come to Winterfalls in Lady Flidais’s escort. Nobody could fail to pick up on the unease when they were all gathered together at meal times. Maybe Grim could find the reason for this animosity, and whether it was important to us.

Something was going on between the prince and Donagan. If anyone had asked me, I’d have said the two of them were avoiding speaking to each other. Maybe they’d had a falling-out. And while I hadn’t been asked to investigate that, I was learning that the slightest oddity could prove important in hindsight.

The women’s days followed a pattern. First to rise was Lady Sochla, who would head out early for a walk with Bramble. Only a storm of the sleeting, tempestuous kind would keep the prince’s aunt indoors. If the day was inclement she would leave the dog behind and have Sinead take it into the garden instead. A pretty little garden. I heard from Brid the cook that Prince Oran had created it especially for Lady Flidais, but I didn’t once see her spend time in it. Nor did I ever see her walk her own dog. But in that first letter, the one the prince had let me read, Flidais had given a charming description of the woodland near her home; she had implied that she enjoyed walking in it with her maid and Bramble. I wondered which maid she meant, Ciar, who had drowned, or one of the others? I’d have to talk to all three of them: Deirdre, Nuala and Mhairi.

After breakfast, Lady Flidais and her attendants generally went to the sewing room, a long chamber with windows placed to let in morning light, and a hearth where a crackling fire would already be burning. That was unless Lady Flidais had some reason to ride out – a visit to the settlement, for instance. This did not occur often. At this time of year, I’d have expected the prince to be off hunting stag or boar, as princes and chieftains commonly did in autumn. But I already knew Oran was not like other princes, and it seemed he was more likely to be writing letters, inspecting his cattle or holding councils than engaging in blood sport. When I asked Brid about this, she told me Niall’s men took what game was necessary to sustain the household, and the cottagers had permission to provide for their own needs in the same manner. Meat and fish were salted away for the winter months. But the prince had declared there would be no wanton slaughter of wild creatures on his land, and since his folk held him in high respect, despite his unusual attitudes, they abided by his rules.