And sometimes, quite often actually, I grew weary of lying on my back with my hands to my chin and I grew weary of wondering and I got up out of bed, crept past Nurse and out of the chamber, and wandered the shadowy corridors of the castle. Often I drifted toward my mother’s chamber, for my mother was a great mystery to me. Once a day I was brought to her to be inspected and chided and kissed, but other than that I seldom saw her. And other than on those occasions I never entered my mother’s chamber. I would wander there only in the night sometimes, and stand cold and barefoot staring at her closed door awhile, and wander away again.

So it was that I saw my father one last time, after he was dead.

It was a night of the dark of the moon, very silent. I heard no owl call. Even the dogs down in the village beyond the wall were silent, and even the sea washed quietly against the rocky cliffs below the castle walls on that night, and the wind for once was still. I ghosted through the great hall, gazing up into the vast vaulting shadows of the groins, and I wished I could slip out to the kennels or the mews, but the guards might see me there. So I drifted up to the darkened solarium instead—through the costly glass windows I could see just a whisper of light in the east. Dawn. I must return to my bed soon so that Nurse would find me there in the morning, or else she would scold. Not that I much minded her scolding. Nurse was a plain, blocky Cornishwoman, perhaps of middle age; she seemed to me as old as the mountains, and as blank and patient. She never beat me. Nor did she ever speak a word more than was necessary. I understood that, being a sandy-haired commoner, she was different from my sleek, dark-haired, finely bred Bre ton mother, different from my sister and me.

After all, I did not much care about getting back to my bed before dawn. I wandered toward my mother’s chamber.

And as I padded toward her door, it opened and my father, fully armed, strode out.

I was so surprised that I could not even shout. “Daddy!” I squeaked, and I ran toward him with my arms flung wide.

He barely looked at me. He shoved me out of the way with one gloved hand, sending me sprawling, and strode on.

I could not comprehend. I could only react. “Daddy!” I whimpered, and I picked myself up and trotted after him.

I could not catch up with him. His stride was longer than two of mine, even when I ran. But I followed him down the corridor and the spiral stairs and another long corridor to a postern gate where guards with torches and men on horses awaited him.