“A little time was all I asked to begin with. If you agree to that, there is no need to lock me away. I will say nothing to dissuade her.”

He smiled. “So you think that a week of wooing is all it will take?”

“Well, two weeks perhaps.”

He thought about that, and nodded vaguely. She was sure that her exhale of relief sounded as loud as a gale of wind.

Marcus appeared accepting of the delay. She assumed he would leave.

Instead, he finally did touch her. Not with a grab for passion, however. His hand went to her face, and his warm palm pressed her cheek. He looked down at her with a thoughtful, absorbing gaze.

“What mischief are you up to, Nesta?”

None. I only do my duty to my sister. The words did not come out, because her stupid heart had risen to her throat, blocking the sounds.

His palm stayed for a delicious moment, tantalizing her. She wanted to push it away, but she could not. She could barely breathe.

Suddenly, his touch was gone. With purposeful strides, he left the chamber.

She continued feeling that brief touch as if he had branded her. Free of his absorbing presence, however, she began to worry about the implications of his last question.

Aye, why couldn’t the King have chosen a stupid man?

Marcus would not threaten to hang Dylan to coerce Genith, but he might have to hang the bard all the same. It was time to decide about that.

He did not return to the hall, but instead took the stone stairs down to the cellar chambers. As he descended, the glimmer of a candle turned a corner and moved up toward him. It illuminated a happy girlish smile and dark eyes not nearly so vacant as normal. Whatever private thoughts amused Genith, they, and the smile, disappeared in a blink when she noticed him standing on the step where he had paused.

She started, and almost dropped the large sack that she carried under one arm. Dylan’s sack, containing his harp. Marcus looked at it pointedly and Genith hoisted it a bit higher, as if she feared his taking it away.

“You have been visiting the prisoner, Genith?”

“It is a charity to visit the imprisoned, I was always taught. I trust it does not displease you, my lord.”

The girl was quick, he had to give her that. Not as quick as Nesta, nor as smooth, but then Genith was much younger and had less practice.

“He asked me to take the harp, since his chamber is so damp that he fears it will be damaged there if he is kept long.”

“Bring it to the hall, and I will remove it to my chamber later. No harm will come to it there.”

She appeared a bit disappointed by that. Balancing her candle and hugging her precious burden, she climbed the stairs until she had passed him.