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a companion on my journey.”
    Raoul’s face flushed. He stood up so abruptly the stool on which he had been sitting toppled over with a crash. “I thank you, but no. Speaking of horses, it’s time for me to see to them. Good night.”
    He turned and went out without another word, cold air swirling through the room as he opened and closed the door.
    “Well,” Niccolo said, after a moment. “It’s prettyclear I said something wrong. Either of you care to tell me what?”
    “Raoul is forbidden to leave de Brabant lands,” I said, as I stood to right the upturned stool.” By order of Etienne de Brabant himself”
    “De Brabant lands,” Niccolo echoed, and I turned toward him at the astonishment in his voice. “These lands belong to Etienne de Brabant?”
    “They do,” I acknowledged.
    Niccolo clapped his hands together, like a child who has just solved a knotty puzzle. “Oh, but surely this explains everything,” he cried. “Why did you not speak of this before?”
    “It didn’t occur to me it was important,” I said. I shot a glance in Old Mathilde’s direction. “I’m not sure I understand why it is now.”
    “It explains why you would take me in and nurse me back to health where others would only see an enemy,” Niccolo replied. “Etienne de Brabant supports the queen. He is the leader of her faction at court. If these are de Brabant lands, surely you, too, must be sympathetic to her cause.”
    “We wish for our two countries to be at peace” Old Mathilde said, when it became clear that I could not speak at all. I had never heard of any of this before. “Nothing less, and nothing more. We have no time to concern ourselves with court intrigues in a place such as this.”
    Niccolo’s face clouded. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean—”
    “Why?” I burst out.
    Niccolo turned back to me, the confusion he was feeling clear upon his face.” Why what?”
    “Why does Etienne de Brabant support the queens cause?”
    “I don’t know the details,” Niccolo admitted. “Tor it happened many years ago. He was loyal to the king, or so they say, until some service he performed while in the kings service brought him endless sorrow. After that, he turned his back on all that he had been before. He has been the queens man ever since.”
    “Ever since,” I echoed quietly, though my heart was thundering in my ears like a kettle drum. I turned my head, and met Old Mathilde’s eyes. “Since the day he received word of my mothers death,” I said. “Since the day that I was born. That’s the day his endless sorrow began, don’t you think?”
    Niccolo jerked, as if Old Mathilde had jabbed him with one of her knitting needles.
    “Wait a minute,” he exclaimed. “You’re saying you are Etienne de Brabant’s daughter? I did not know he had a child!”
    “I am the child of Etienne de Brabant and Constanze d’Este,” I said. “My mother died the night that I was born, while my father was far from home, on the kings business, or so it now seems. My father does not forgive, nor does he forget, what happened the night that I was born. That’s why you’ve never heard of me. My father does his best to pretend I don’t exist.”
    “Then he is a fool,” Niccolo said. “For you are adaughter of which any father would be proud.”
    I felt the blood rush to my face, the sudden stab of tears at the back of my eyes.
    “It is kind of you to say so,” I said. “But I—”
    Old Mathilde got to her feet, dropping her knitting into her basket with a rustling sound.
    “We have had enough of questions and answers for tonight, I think,” she said in a firm yet quiet voice. “You will need a good nights sleep, Niccolo, if you truly intend to go tomorrow morning. Its a long journey You should start at first light.”
    Niccolo stood up in response to her words, but I felt the way his
eyes
stayed on my face. “You are right,” he said. “I will say good night. But I . . .” He paused and took a