“Should we?” Edward returned. “Won’t they think we are lying or worse—raving lunatics? I encountered the mad monks. I saw one of them send Draconas flying across the highway with a wave of his hand. I saw a wall that wasn’t a wall and a feeble old woman turn herself into a fire-breathing dragon. Nothing anyone could have told me would have prepared me for that.”

“They’ll think they’re under attack by the Devil,” said Marcus, shaking his head. “At least tell the knights and the barons.”

“I’ll discuss it with Gunderson,” said his father. “Perhaps you’re right. After all, even if they don’t believe me, they’ll know better to say it to my face. And they’ll be prepared when the time comes. I will summon the messengers and prepare the letters. You spend some time with your mother.”

Marcus looked at his father in silent appeal.

Edward clapped Marcus on the shoulder. “Courage, my son,” he said softly and left the room.

Marcus turned reluctantly to face Ermintrude, thinking he would rather be facing the dragon.

The queen rose ponderously to her feet, her silk rustling. She clasped her hands over her broad stomacher and said briskly, “You made love to this girl and now she claims she is pregnant with your child and you must marry her or buy her off. Is that what you are not telling me?”

“Mother!” Marcus felt his face burn in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, my son. She cannot trap you like this. You are a prince of the realm and she is . . . What is she? What do you know about her?”

“Nothing, really,” he said, keeping to himself the facts he did know.

“I thought as much. How many times did you make love to her?”

“I don’t remember making love to her at all,” Marcus admitted. “But there was wine . . . and she was . . . was there . . . beside me . . . when I woke up . . .”

“Do you love this girl?”

Marcus hesitated. “She was so pretty and she was in danger. We were both in danger. We had only each other . . . She was brave and level-headed and—”

“You thought you were in love with her.”

“Yes,” he said. “I was even tempted . . . But I don’t think I did. I just don’t remember!”

“Does she love you?”

Marcus’s flush deepened. “I think she does. I didn’t mean to lead her on. It’s just—”

“You are young and thrown together in dangerous and romantic circumstances.” Ermintrude sighed. “I understand, my dear. Don’t blame yourself.”

“But I do blame myself. I have to take responsibility and, well, she made threats.”

“Did she, now,” Ermintrude said, her eyes flashing.

“She was distraught and didn’t know what she was saying. And I mean to take care of her anyway.”