Cordelia had to force her lips to relax enough to speak. “Breakfast,” she said tightly. “Nothing else.”

Giles’s eyebrows soared at her tone; she ignored him.

Alys had taught them all better manners than that. But Cordelia’s muscles were braced to run, and she couldn’t loosen them no matter how she tried. Of course they were safe here. Anyone who looked twice at their grandmother would know she must be family. Yet it took all of Cordelia’s strength to keep herself standing at the edge of the waiting cottage instead of fleeing outright for the freedom of the forest.

She felt as wild and irrational as the feral beast her triplets sometimes called her. But no matter how senseless it seemed even to her, she wasn’t letting anyone look at her definitely healed wound … especially not their newly discovered grandmother.

“Breakfast would be wonderful,” said Giles loudly. “We’re all hungry, aren’t we, Ros?”

“Starving,” Rosalind agreed. Her shoulders relaxed, and she stepped to Cordelia’s side, smiling at last. “Thank you, Gra—I mean—”

“Oh, it’s perfectly all right to call me Grandmother for now.” Their grandmother nodded graciously and turned to lead the way into the house. Her voice floated back to them over the shoulder of her faded green gown, which showed the signs of multiple mendings. “Of course, if we were at court in front of onlookers, you’d have to address me as ‘Your Ladyship’ or ‘Lady Elianora,’ but—”

“At court!” Giles pulled away from his sisters to hurry after her. “Do you usually live at the royal court?”

“Not … for some time. But here—see for yourself.” She stepped aside, gesturing at the single open room that filled the cottage. “My humble abode.”

It might have been small, but it didn’t look humble to Cordelia’s eyes, not compared to the plain stone rooms of their own home. This one glittered, from the sparkling, embroidered tapestries that covered the plastered walls and hung from the wooden rafters above their heads to the heavy-looking golden goblet that sat on the table in the center of the room. A polished cedar chest hulked in the far corner, so big that Cordelia could have curled up inside it with plenty of room to spare. Several glinting silver bracelets lay arranged in a wide arc across its lid.

“Is that real gold?” Wide-eyed, Giles pointed at the goblet.

“Oh, you poor child. You’ve never even seen real gold before?” Grandmother tsk’d again. “Your mother—! Well. We’ve had our disagreements, of course, but those are long in the past. This is a moment for celebration. Come, sit.” She waved them to the small, oddly shaped table. “Tell me all about yourselves! This is my first chance to know my own grandchildren. I can already tell that you’ll be full of surprises.”