She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. ‘The wretch said nothing to anyone. Why should you who are queens come down from your thrones? If you can afford it, WE can’t. And where was that devil? Had the soldiers found him? She could not think he had escaped, for she had only just made it into the passage as they entered the library.
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