Rhiannon paced the length of her childhood room. As if playing a cruel prank, her parents had chosen it for her overnight stay. Of course, they had. It had changed in the decade she'd been gone, but she still recognised it. The window had the best view of the castle gardens, where she'd enjoyed spending warm summer evenings, and one wall even had marks from when one of her experiments had gone wrong.

Sir Baudwin... No. King Baudwin had left her alone after their talk at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe he was in too much pain to climb them. She had noticed some evenings after a long day sitting in the carriage, he struggled to walk up the stairs at the Inns. It was just as well, she'd said everything she needed to. Tomorrow she would be gone, and she would never see the handsome king again. It was all for the best.

There was a knock on the door, and a young blonde maid entered.

"Lady Rhiannon." She curtsied, her head bent low. "I was sent to help you prepare for bed."

"I can prepare myself, thank you."

Living alone for years taught you to wear simple clothes that you could get in and out of yourself. Turning her back to the maid, she rummaged through her knapsack on the bed. It took her a moment to realise that the young woman wasn't leaving. She frowned. "You may leave."

"My lady, please allow me to help you. I can brush your hair." The maid twisted her hands before taking a step towards the dressing table with its stool and mirror. She motioned towards it. "Please, my lady?"

"Fine." It had been a long time since she had allowed anyone to brush her hair. Maybe it would be relaxing. She sat down on the low stool and stared at the mirror. It wasn't something she'd bothered obtaining, and she wasn't sure when she'd last seen her reflection in anything other than the murky water of the swamp. She looked largely the same as she remembered, her hair longer and her face kissed by the sun in a way she'd never allowed in her youth. Apparently, she had freckles. Not many, but a few were scattered over the bridge of her nose and the top of her cheeks.

The maid came up behind her, grabbed a brush off the dressing table and began brushing her long hair. It was maybe a little too long, reaching well below her waist. She should have it cut.

"Your hair is beautiful, my lady." The maid raked the brush through the golden-red tresses. "Such an amazing colour."

"Thank you," Rhiannon muttered, not used to compliments. It was nice having someone brushing her hair. She'd forgotten how nice it was to be attended to once in a while. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feeling as the maid began braiding to keep it away from her face during the night.

"Rhiannon." The sound of a man's voice made her jump and she would have whipped her head around had the maid not held her hair in a tight grip. Staring into the mirror, she saw a man appear behind the young woman, his face unfamiliar to her. Ginger hair, and a beard of the same colour, blue eyes. There was something about the look of him that made a cold shiver run down her back.

"Who are you?" She tentatively moved her head, but the maid's grip held it still.

"It's not important," the ginger man said, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "What's important is what I'm about to tell you."

Rhiannon felt bile rising in her throat. They'd found her? Already? Grabbing onto the polished wood of the dressing table, she held onto it, her knuckles white from the force of her grip. She would have fought them, but she needed to know how much they knew.

"How did you find me?" The words were strained as she stared at the man's reflection.

"I've been here for years," he admitted with an unamused chuckle. "Waiting. Biding my time. In case you returned." He moved around to lean a hip against the dressing table, looking down at her with a smirk. "You've been gone a long time. We've been looking, but never found you. When we heard of the plan to marry you to the king, we scarcely believed our luck."

"I want nothing to do with you anymore," she snapped, despite the unease lingering in the pit of her stomach. "And I definitely want nothing more to do with him."

The man laughed. "Do you think he cares?" He took her chin in rough fingers and tilted her head up. "He wants it back."

She met his blue eyes, unflinching. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid. You know exactly what he wants. But fret not. He's willing to make a deal."

Icy tendrils of fear travelled up her spine and spread into her chest. "A deal?"

"Marry the king." The man's fingers gripped harder as she tried to pull back, and she grimaced from the pain.

"No!"

"Marry him."

He let go of her face and she shook her head, as if it could make it all go away. "Why?"

"We need eyes and ears inside the royal castle. And when the time comes, you will kill him."

What? Kill Baudwin? She stared at the man as he grinned down at her, enjoying having shocked her. "Why does he want the king dead?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "I don't question his motives, I only give you the instructions I received for you. He also says you never should have left him. Definitely shouldn't have taken something of his. He will still want it back, but until you can return it, you will do as he asks."

Rhiannon closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again to give the man her most haughty look. "I won't do it," she said, her voice cold. "You can tell D—"

"Do not speak his name!" he growled.

"Son of Deva," she amended, her voice dripping with scorn, "that I will not run his errands. And I most certainly won't return it."

"He said you might say that. If you don't do as we ask, we will tell everyone exactly who you are and where you were all those years. What you were doing during the Battle of Messina."

She looked down at her hands. The fingers were gripping the wood of the dressing table so hard, it was amazing it didn't splinter under the pressure.

"And don't even think about running away again. We will tell everyone. Do you truly think you could hide not only from us, but from the world too? Eventually, someone will find you."

Reluctantly, she nodded. For now, there was no other alternative. She would have to play along, and hopefully she could find a way out of this deal later. Ideally before they asked her to murder Baudwin.

"That's a good girl."

Oh, how she wished she could wipe that smirk off his face, but she had to toe the line. At least for now. Slowly releasing her grip on the dressing table, she flexed her fingers.

"Tell him you're bringing your own lady's maid. Ailla here will report back to us, and she will relay any messages we have for you."

The maid released the grip on her hair, and she glanced up at her. Ailla looked so young and innocent, but that meant nothing. How had she allowed herself to drop her guard like that? Even for a moment. She watched as the pair of them exited the room, staring at the closed door for a moment after they left. Turning back to the mirror, she caught sight of herself, her hair hanging in a long braid over her shoulder. She stared, wild-eyed, at herself for a moment before swiftly swiping the contents of the dressing table off its surface. They clattered to the floor in a satisfying crash.

Orc's ass! How had she allowed herself to be backed into a corner like this? She knew better. And yet, it had happened. Tits of an ogre! She could never return the thing he wanted. It was too dangerous. And she didn't want to marry the king. Curse them all!

Taking a deep breath, she carefully reigned in her temper, sealing it away deep inside. This was not the time to lose self-control. It was time to find Baudwin and accept the marriage deal. If one could call it that. It felt more akin to a lamb to the slaughter. She was a piece of mutton offered by her parents in return for some coveted power.

Not much later, she knocked on a door in the guest wing where she'd been told the king rested for the night. It took a few moments before she could hear the tap of his cane against the stone floors. Had he been sleeping? The door opened, and the sight of a shirtless Baudwin greeted her. He was wearing only his breeches, feet bare and hair mussed from lying down. She resisted the instant urge to smooth the too long strands away from his face.

He stared at her as if she was a crocodile from the swamp come to devour him.

"Rhiannon." He frowned and ran fingers through his hair the way she had wanted to. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" Their discussion wasn't appropriate for the hallway.

He nodded and opened the door wider to allow her entry, then closed it behind her as she came into the room. It had been prepared with a king in mind, waiting for his arrival. She couldn't remember any other time any of the guest rooms had ever looked so opulent, with rich fabrics and plush cushions. Two oil lamps lit the room. The covers on the bed were pulled down, so she must have interrupted his sleep.

"I'm surprised you're here," Baudwin admitted, leaning heavily on his cane. "I didn't think you'd want to see me again."

"I didn't."

He raised an eyebrow at her abrasive reply. "And yet here you are."

"It appears that I will have to marry you after all." Not knowing how to approach the subject, she might as well just attack it head on.

"Have to?" He frowned. "Are they forcing you?"

She let out a humourless laugh. "My parents? No."

"Then why the change of heart?"

Yes, Rhiannon. Why the change of heart? Staring at the handsome king, she tried to think of a good excuse.

"I don't want to be the reason there's a rebellion. Not when I know I can prevent it." That made sense, didn't it?

He nodded, his gaze pensive. "I appreciate that. I don't want a rebellion either. But you've been quite adamant about not marrying until now."

"Make no mistake." She looked him square in the eyes, her chin raised. "This will be a marriage in name only. I have not forgiven you for lying to me. I am only doing this to prevent rebellion and save lives."

The knuckles on his hand whitened for a moment as he gripped his cane tighter, then he nodded. "Very well. But I would ask that we agree to discuss it again in the future. Ideally, I need an heir or two at some point."

A hollow feeling settled in the region of her heart. Children? No. She couldn't be a mother. Children deserved better. She shook her head, clearing it of the unbidden images of a toddler with a chestnut mop of hair. It wouldn't matter, she just needed time. She would figure a way out of this before it came to that. Somehow, she would get out of this marriage. Hopefully, without having to kill him.

"We can discuss it in the future," she agreed.

He walked back to his bed, his movements stiff. Perhaps he was in more pain again. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he looked up at her. "We're leaving for Ossol tomorrow. Will you join us?"

"Yes." She certainly didn't want to stay with her parents. "I will bring my lady's maid."

The comment surprised him, and he raised his eyebrows. "Of course. I didn't realise that you had one." He smiled grimly. "You're doing me a favour by marrying me, so you can have anything you ask for."

If only that were true. She turned away from him and moved over to look out the window. It overlooked the garden, just like hers did. The few good memories she had of her youth were from that garden.

"I'm sorry you've been put in this situation."

Whipping her head around, she stared at the king, and it took her a moment to realise he was talking about the marriage and not the reason she was having to accept. He looked tired and sombre, his lips set in a grim line. His hand was rubbing the thigh of his bad leg. She was out of ingredients, or she might have offered him some more of the ointment for the pain. There was also a small part of her that felt as if he deserved the pain, just for tonight. He'd lied to her. Made her trust him. Despite her better judgement.

"We can discuss the limits of our marriage another time," she said in a clipped tone, then left the room before he could argue. She didn't want to. Not tonight.

~~~~~~