“Everybody in a Castle or a manor eats in the hall?” Janie said.

“Most days. The family and any noble guests at the head table, and then the Associate retainers, and then the commons down below the salt, from the highest-ranking servants down to the stable hands and that sort. We don’t all eat the same food, of course, or use the same tableware, but one reason common people want to serve in a castle is that they eat better than what they would get at home in their family’s cottage.”

Shawonda returned to the subject. “So you eat in this Great Hall place every day?”

“Not every day, especially not breakfast or luncheon, sometimes a lord will eat en famille with his wife and children or a few select guests in a solar or ladybower, but it’s . . . well, people will think you’re odd and, ummm, sort of . . . what was the old word . . . antisocial if you do that all the time. It’s good lordship to sit at meat with your folk. Though it’s nice to be private now and then, like this.”

Shawonda looked down at her plate and realized it was empty except for a few clean-picked bones. Yseult thought she blushed, though it was a little difficult to tell for sure with the brown complexion.

“Go ahead,” she laughed. “You’ve been on short rations, I know. Here, have some of the ham this time. The honey glaze is excellent.”

“We were eating jerky and these hard biscuits and cheese and not much else while we rode so fast,” Janie said. “We were so tired we didn’t realize how hungry we were until we got to Ashland and we could sleep in a bed again!”

Her sister nodded. “Everything sort of blurred together after the first couple of days. I think there were bandits once and I didn’t even notice because I was so tired and sore and half-asleep.”

Silence fell for a few minutes; Yseult felt a bit amused at how the two made up for lost time, and restricted herself a little, passing over most of the red meat. Even if her time as an oblate was fading, it wasn’t quite over yet, and the Rule of the Sisters called for moderation. Yseult poured them all more wine, red this time, and sliced the tart and handed round the honeysweetened cream.

“You’ve heard all about us, Lady Yseult,” Shawonda said.

“Please, let’s be Yseult and Shawonda and Janie in private? You know, you’re actually princesses, so I should be the one who goes after. I’m just a baron’s daughter. Sister, now.”

“We are?” Janie said. “Princesses? Really and truly?”

Her sister looked at her. “Remember what Mathilda said back when they came to our place? I thought she was joking but now I think she really meant it. But don’t start calling yourself a princess, Janie. It might cause trouble, people at home wouldn’t like it.”