'Ah, let me look at you.'

“Ah, let me look at you, most magnificent Maud,” Sigefrith said as he came into the bedroom where Maud waited, already dressed for bed.

“It’s about time, Sigefrith,” she scolded prettily. “I was about to go to bed without you.”

“I’m glad you waited. I need to talk to you.”

“Can’t we talk tomorrow?” Maud sighed tragically. “I only want to sleep.”

“No, dear, it can’t wait. I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”

'Leaving for where?'

“Leaving?” she asked, her voice grown cold. “Leaving for where?”

“For Scotland, dear. I have to see the King of Scots.”

“Why?”

“Listen, dear,” he said gently, reaching for her hands, but Maud backed away.

“You’ve been away for an entire year, and you come home for a few short weeks and then tell me you’re leaving again? Have I a husband, or have I not?”

'Have I a husband, or have I not?'

“Maud, I wish I could stay, but – ”

“Then stay! What do we care about the King of Scots?”

“Maud, dear, it’s complicated. Cenwulf will explain it to you when – ”

“Cenwulf! I never want to see Cenwulf again! I don’t want Cenwulf, I want you! Send him! You’re the king, aren’t you?”

“Dearest, Colburga is not well – ”

“And I? Colburga is having a baby because Colburga had her husband all year. What about Alred?”

“Alred is ill, you know – ”

'Oh, anyway!'

“Oh, anyway! Matilda doesn’t need him. She has Egelric!”

“Maud!” he barked. Maud fell silent.

Maud fell silent.

“I assure you that you have a husband, and I am he. I am also your king. Now you will listen. I am more sorry than you know to have to leave you and the children again so soon. However, there are hundreds of people in this valley who are in danger if I do not go to Stirling and see the Aetheling, or Malcolm if I may. I shall not be gone long, but in my absence you shall comport yourself as a queen, and not as the child I have just seen. You know what I am, and you know what that means.”

“Sometimes I think we should have been happier if you were a simple farmer,” she pouted.

'I should not have been.'

“I should not have been,” he said quietly, thinking back to the last months of 1066

“Now, melancholy Maud,” he said, taking her into his arms. “I know I’m a dreadful man, and I married you against your will and carried you off to a deserted valley and neglect you shamefully, but you’re not entirely unhappy are you? You’re not sorry you met me, are you?”

“No,” she said reluctantly.

“So let us try to make the best of it, Maud. We still have this night, and then I’ll be away only a short while. You shall see me again before the snows melt.”

“Do you promise?” she asked.

“I promise.”

'I promise.'