“Falling in love doesn’t mean a man’s brain turns to mush,” Edward said sharply.

“Doesn’t it?” Ermintrude asked with the flash of a dimple.

One conversation in particular worried the king. He had taken his son aside to speak to him in private. “Have you received any word from Draconas? If so, you’ve said nothing to me. Much as I dislike depending on him, he is our eyes and ears.”

“Draconas . . .” Marcus repeated. His brow puckered. He seemed to be trying to place the man.

“Draconas. You remember. The dragon?”

“I’m sorry, Father.” Marcus faltered. “I don’t... I can’t. . .”

The Lady Izabelle glided up to stand beside him. Marcus smiled.

“No,” Marcus said mildly. “I haven’t heard anything of him in days. And now, if you will excuse me, Father, I promised the Lady Izabelle a game of draughts.”

He and the lady sat at table by the fire.

Evelina, meanwhile, was proceeding with her plans for regaining her prince.

On his return, she’d managed to catch a glimpse of Marcus as they had carried him to his room. Evelina had been shocked at the sight and had known a twinge of fear. He was so pale and thin, he looked to be at death’s door, and what would that mean for her? Her spirits rallied, however, on considering that, if the prince did die, she would be the mother of the only son poor Marcus would ever father. Evelina decided that she could bear the news of his death with fortitude, and she was almost disappointed to hear that he was recovering.

The serving girl who had been Evelina’s source for information had left the castle, but, now free to roam about, Evelina made friends with Cook, who kept Evelina informed. Cook brought Evelina the news that the Lady Izabelle had moved into the royal chambers lock, stock, and barrel, establishing herself as Marcus’s nurse and companion. Evelina seethed with jealousy.

That day, she dared to try to pay the prince a visit and walked boldly into the royal quarters. Guards, posted outside the prince’s chambers, escorted her off. Evelina then tried to find a way to sneak into Marcus’s room in the middle of the night. Lady Izabelle might possess talents in lute-playing, but Evelina possessed talents of her own that she was certain the prince would find far more exciting. A night spent in bed with her would clinch the deal.

Evelina eagerly questioned Cook about secret passages and hidden tunnels, such as she’d heard about in minstrels’ songs, which told of forbidden lovers sneaking through passages to meet each other in clandestine embrace. Unfortunately, the architect of this palace had been totally lacking in romance, for no secret passages existed, at least that Cook knew about, and she’d lived in the palace for twenty years.