Bathed and dressed, Danaë followed the maid down to the great hall and its noisy bustle. The room, large and lived in, was currently filled with the breakfasting inhabitants of the castle.
And, at the high table, Cenric watched her approach.
Danaë stiffened when she first felt his eyes on her but swallowed her fear and continued on.
The maid stopped at the seat next to Cenric with small bow and a quick, "My Lord," before pulling out the chair for Danaë to sit.
Swallowing her dislike, Danaë curtsied. "Your Majesty."
Cenric gestured to the waiting seat. "My Lady, please join me."
Danaë nodded and sat as servants appeared to place food and drink before her.
When they were gone, Danaë asked, "Whose clothes are these?"
The jade green dress she was wearing had been given to her this morning without a word of explanation as to its origin.
"My mother's," he answered. "Do you like them?"
Danaë spoke stiffly, "They're lovely. Please, give her my thanks."
Cenric paused. "She passed five years ago."
"Oh..."
"Her wardrobe is still in the Queen's chambers. You'll have free use of it - unless you would rather have your own? I could send Bertha to you; she used to make my mother's gowns."
Danaë shook her head. She had no intention of staying long enough to gain a wardrobe.
Taking a fork in hand, Danaë began to bring the food before her into her mouth, tasting none of it.
"So, what will you do today, my Lady?"
Danaë paused, her fork aloft. "What is there to be done?" At the palace, she had spent her hours practicing diplomacy and manners and protocol, preparing for the day that she became Empress.
That day would never come now.
"Can you write?"
Danaë's eyes narrowed with annoyance. "Of course."
"Good. When our mutual friend comes calling, we'll need the support of as many lords as we can muster. I want to dust off some old alliances, and that will require letters."
"Can't your advisors do that for you?"
Cenric shook his head. "I'd rather have them know as little about this as possible."
Danaë glanced over, "Why?"
"Information about my court has been a little too public of late. Someone I trust is telling tales, and until I find who it is, the purpose of these preparations must be kept between us."
The thought of spending time alone with him sent shivers across her skin. Answering his original question, Danaë said, "If it's alright, I think I'd like to visit the temple today."
"We have a chapel on the grounds-"
"No – The temple in the city."
Cenric nodded. "Very well. I'll have the guards escort you after breakfast." He raised his cup to drink.
Danaë inclined her head. "Thank you." The words tasted bitter in her mouth.
Setting his cup back down, Cenric looked aside at her. "One thing I wished to discuss – I want you trained for combat."
Combat? "What? Why?"
"My dear Lady, the 'why' should be self-evident. You will not always have guards around to protect you, and I would breathe easier knowing that you could defend yourself."
Against a general and his battle-hardened warriors? He may as well expect a lamb to fight back against wolves.
"As you wish."
"Excellent – I'll speak with Godric and have him set up a training schedule for you."
Danaë glanced at him in her periphery. How can he speak to me so casually? Like nothing was wrong? Like he did nothing wrong?
Red hot disgust rose from her belly, and Danaë struggled to continue her meal.
"What is it, my Lady?"
Danaë paused, picking up her napkin to wipe her mouth. "Are you certain you wish to train me to fight?"
"Absolutely. Why? Do you question my decision?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I question your sanity."
"Oh?"
"After last night, if you teach me how to kill a man, I may just use that knowledge on you."
Cenric chuckled. "Oh, dear girl..."
"I do not jest." Her voice held a hard edge of absolute sincerity.
"I know. I'm proud of you."
Danaë turned to him. "Proud?"
"Three years ago, you couldn't find the courage to accept my offer to dance at a ball, and now you've just threatened my life." He raised his cup to her. "I cannot wait to see what other surprises you have for me."