TWENTY-SEVEN
The strange man who looked like Warin – Siward, was that what he'd said his name was? – didn't look particularly impressed by her announcement. Weren't men supposed to bow to their queen?
"Well? Aren't you going to say something?" Rosamond said finally, exasperated.
"You did hit your head," Siward said drily.
She blew out an angry breath. "You mean you don't believe me? You think instead that I am mad, or making this up? You said it yourself – why would a maiden wait in the woods without her clothes? Well, I gave you my answer. I slept for fifty years, safe until you broke into my bower."
"Even if you are the lost princess, no one will believe you. Even I am not sure if I believe you. You should be the same age as my grandmother, not standing before me, looking younger
