They Hanged My Parents as Traitors, Now the Prince Needs My Heart novel · Chapter 19 of 24

Chapter 19: Slow

"Not here," said Cadoc.

"Where, then?"

He looked at the churchyard wall, the lane, and the thin smoke over the keep's kitchen roofs.

"Somewhere with a door," he said.

I took him to my loft.

It was above the ovens, up a ladder from the kitchen pantry, and it had been mine for ten years.

The ceiling sloped so low that he hit his head on the third rafter and swore.

"It's a very small room," Cadoc said, with dignity, rubbing his skull.

"It's a very warm one."

The heat rose through the boards.

The loft smelled of yeast and flour.

The last of the day came in through a round window the size of a plate.

My narrow bed had the quilt Sioned had made me when I was fifteen.

My one shelf held six books and a chipped mug.

He looked at all of it.

"This is where you lived," he said.

"Yes."

"I'll never say a word against it."

"Good," I said. "Sit on the bed before you hit something else."

He sat.

From below came the thump and slap of the Row women at the dough.

A woman's voice was singing, flat and cheerful.

"They can hear us," I said.

"Then we'll be quiet."

"I wasn't planning on quiet."

He laughed, low, and put his hand over his eyes.

I stood in front of him and took the pins out of my braid, one at a time.

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