Grim said what I could not bring myself to say. “The lady, she’ll be wanting Blackthorn at court with her. That what you’re telling us?”

“Lady Flidais will explain,” Donagan said. “But yes, that is what she would prefer. Lady Flidais does not place a great deal of trust in the court physicians.” He fell silent, gazing into his empty soup bowl. Grim and I stayed quiet too. There was a long, long list of reasons why the prospect of going to court disturbed us; not all of them were reasons we could share with Donagan or indeed with Lady Flidais.

“Inconvenient, I know,” the king’s man said eventually, still not meeting my eye or Grim’s. “Your young helper would need to act as healer here in your absence. And . . . well, I understand this wouldn’t be much to your liking.” Now he glanced across at Grim. “Lady Flidais’s invitation extends to both of you. Since it’s for some time, there would be private quarters provided.”

“Invitation,” echoed Grim. “But not the sort of invitation a person says no to, coming from a prince and all.”

Donagan gave Grim a crooked smile. I had come to understand that he had a soft spot for my companion, though what exactly had passed between them during that odd time when Grim and I had stayed in the prince’s household I was not quite sure. I knew Grim had been in a fight and had hurt another man quite badly. I knew Donagan had helped get Grim out of trouble. So it was possible that Donagan realized how hard it was for Grim to sleep without me to keep him company—not the sort of company a man and a woman keep when they’re wed, more the company of a watchful friend, the same as we’d had when we were in that wretched place together, before I’d understood what friends were.

“True enough,” Donagan went on. “Still, I imagine you will say yes, not because you feel obliged to, but because Lady Flidais trusts you. And because you have her welfare at heart, as we all do.”

It was a pretty speech. No need to tell him that if I said yes, it wouldn’t be for that heartwarming reason, but because I was bound to it by Conmael. Court. Closed in by stone walls, surrounded by highbred folk quick to judge those they deemed their inferiors. I imagined myself embroiled in petty disputes with the royal physicians, who could only resent Lady Flidais’s preference for a local wise woman over their expert and scholarly selves. Court, where every single activity would be subject to some sort of ridiculous protocol. Morrigan’s curse! I’d found it hard enough staying in the prince’s much smaller establishment. Grim would loathe it. And what about Conmael and our agreement? He’d ordered me to live at Winterfalls, not at Cahercorcan. So complying with one condition of my promise would mean breaking another. A pox on it!

I rose to my feet. “Thank you for bringing the message. I have some herbs to gather before I head over to the settlement, but please tell Lady Flidais she can expect me around midafternoon.” I thought I did an excellent job of sounding calm and unruffled, but the look Grim gave me suggested otherwise.