‘You think a mob of muddy-booted farmers and whining village folk more important than your own wedding?’ She was suddenly, inexplicably furious. ‘Anyone could preside over your council! Ask Donagan to do it, or Aedan! Or, if you really must be there in person, why not put it off until we return from Cahercorcan? It’s only squabbles over a patch of land or a cow or two. You are a prince, Oran.’ And, as I made to answer, she added, ‘If this is all you care about me, I might as well pack my bags and head straight back home.’ She drew a deep, shuddering breath. A tear ran down her flawless cheek.

I was a hair’s-breadth from telling her I’d be most happy if she’d do just that, and the sooner the better. But she could not go. Muadan’s news had only confirmed what I already knew. If Blackthorn did not uncover something truly remarkable – a proven plot to defraud me, or worse – I would have no choice but to go ahead with the marriage.

‘Were you not listening when I explained what Muadan told me?’ I used the kind of tone I employed in meeting with my father’s councillors, calm, firm, a little detached, though my heart was a mad jumble of emotions. ‘Even if the season allowed such a journey, you could not go. Your father is in serious trouble, Flidais. The last thing he would want was for his daughter to ride into the middle of it.’ I drew breath. ‘Why wasn’t I told that Mathuin of Laois had offered for your hand?’

She stared at me, big-eyed and silent.

‘Muadan mentioned it in passing,’ I said. ‘I would have thought you, or your father, would have included that fact in a letter.’

‘I . . .’ She dropped her gaze. Her hands were knotted together, tight with nerves. Was I so intimidating? ‘I don’t know. I didn’t think. Perhaps he – my father – perhaps he forgot.’

I did not believe that for a moment. ‘Your father showed good sense in refusing the offer. And considerable courage. The match would have been most unsuitable. But this means Lord Cadhan has angered Mathuin, and Mathuin is a man no leader would want as an enemy. The situation has implications for me and for my father. Our marriage will not please the chieftain of Laois, who has powerful friends.’

There was a silence, then Flidais said, ‘I don’t understand why you are so angry with me, Oran. I know nothing of such matters. Why would I be wanting to think about them so close to our hand-fasting? You are making my head ache.’

‘Not so badly, I hope, that you will be unable to attend supper this evening with our guests.’

She gazed at me, mute with reproach.