That was not at all surprising. The sun had been peeking up over the horizon, painting the room in a grayish orange glow before she had finally allowed Ebba and Gertie to persuade her to leave her vigil at her mother’s side and seek some rest on the small straw-stuffed mat they had had placed in the corner of the room for her. She had only agreed then because she had twice caught herself dozing off where she had sat on the side of the bed, and had feared she would doze off, fall forward, and add more damage to her poor mother.

A virulent string of curses sounded from the hallway and Iliana forced her eyes open once more, realizing only then that they had somehow closed again. Frowning at the pain the bright light seemed to send stabbing into her head, she glanced toward the bed to see that Gertie had dozed off in the chair at the side of the bed. Ebba was absent.

Pushing herself slowly to a sitting position, Iliana peered at the woman asleep in the bed. Her mother seemed undisturbed by the racket. She was still sleeping peacefully. That merely made Iliana more worried. Such a deep sleep was not a good sign, was it?

A second string of curses drew her eyes toward the door once more. Her mouth set with displeasure at such a racket occurring outside a sick room. Shoving away the blanket she had drawn over herself when she had laid down, Iliana got stiffly to her feet. Wincing at the pain that immediately shot from the base of her spine, she paused a bare second to stretch. Then she moved toward the door, ready to give someone an earful.

The sight that met Iliana’s eyes, however, when she stepped out into the hall stole the angry words that had been bubbling up inside her head. All she could do at first was gape at the small army of men milling about. It looked as if every single man who had been working on the wall and moat had been reassigned and crammed into this small hallway and was working industriously, and noisily, away.

Iliana gaped at them briefly, then, spying her husband at the end of the hall, she set her mouth and strode purposefully toward him.

Duncan was removing another post from the railing that guarded the end of the upper floor when a tap on his shoulder made him stop what he was doing to look around. The sight of his wee bride brought an instinctive smile to his face that faded once he took in her expression. She was smiling, but by the saints, it was one of the coldest smiles he had ever looked upon.

“Husband, what is about?”

Noting that her honey-sweet voice was in definite contrast to her frigid smile, Duncan considered her briefly before admitting, “I thought to extend the upper floor.”

“Extend the upper floor?” she asked.