All the same Ragna was uncomfortable when she saw Alain in Gytha’s arms. She felt uneasily that Gytha was assuming some kind of ownership. “The newest member of our family,” Gytha said, “and so handsome!”

“It’s time for his feeding,” Ragna said, and took him back. Ragna put the baby to her breast and he began to suck enthusiastically. She had thought Gytha might leave, but instead she sat down and watched, as if to make sure Ragna was doing it right. When he paused, he puked a little of the milk, and—to Ragna’s surprise—Gytha leaned over and wiped his chin with the sleeve of her costly wool gown. It was a gesture of genuine affection.

Ragna still did not trust Gytha, all the same.

A few minutes later one of Ragna’s bodyguards put his head around the door and said: “Will you see Ealdorman Wigelm?”

He was the last person on earth Ragna wanted to see. However, she thought she had better find out what he was up to. She said: “He may come in, but alone—no sidekicks. And you stay with me while he’s here.”

Gytha heard all this and her face hardened.

Wigelm entered looking offended. “You see, mother?” he said to Gytha. “I have to be questioned by a guard before I can see my own son!” He stared at Ragna’s uncovered breast.

She said: “Consider how much of a fool I would have to be to trust you.” She took Alain off her nipple, but he had not had enough and he cried, so she had to put him back, and suffer Wigelm’s gawking.

He said: “I’m the ealdorman!”

“You’re the rapist.”

Gytha made a disapproving noise, as if Ragna had said something discourteous. It wasn’t half as discourteous as what your son did to me, Ragna thought. It was odd, she reflected, that someone who had failed to condemn the rape would disapprove audibly of the mention of it.

Wigelm seemed about to continue, then changed his mind and choked back his retort. He took a deep breath. “I didn’t come here for an argument.”

“So why did you come?”

He looked uneasy. He sat down, then stood up again. “To talk about the future,” he said vaguely.

What was bugging him? Ragna guessed that he was simply unable to get to grips with politics at the royal level. He understood bullying and coercion, but the king’s need to balance conflicting pressures was beyond Wigelm’s intellect. It was best to speak simply to him. She said: “My future has nothing to do with you.”

Wigelm scratched his head, loosened his belt then tightened it, rubbed his chin, and at last said: “I want to marry you.”

Ragna felt cold dread in her heart. “Never,” she said. “Please don’t even mention it.”

“But I love you.”

That was so obviously untrue that she almost laughed. “You don’t even know what that means.”

“Everything will be different, I swear.”

“So . . .” She looked at Gytha then back at Wigelm. “So you won’t have your men-at-arms hold me down while you fuck me?”