Alys’s anger deserted her as quickly as it had arisen, leaving her feeling like a naive fool. She, of all people, should have known the price of believing a man’s sweet lies, for she lived it every day. She swept the kitchen floor and fought against the weight of her disappointment.
Aunt Deirdre, of course, was quick to gloat.
“Alys!” Aunt’s shrill call echoed through the kitchen, setting each and every servant there to grimacing. Even the goats bleating in the bailey fell silent momentarily.
“Have you heard the news?” Aunt asked none in particular. “Burke de Montvieux has come to choose between my daughters for his bride.” She smiled. “Clearly, he is a knight of discerning eye.”
Or he has lost his eyesight completely, Alys thought.
“How may we aid you, my lady?” Cook asked politely.
