Bound to the Barbarian. Carol Townend
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was certain ought never to be uttered within the walls of a convent.
‘Princess!’
‘Don’t be such a prude, Katerina. You know where most of these nuns have come from—they will have heard far worse, I am sure.’
Katerina doubted it, but she held her tongue. She should not have spoken up, it was not her place to criticise.
The Princess poked her in the ribs. ‘Are you sure you can see no sign of the Duke? His standard, perhaps?’
Peering past the iron bars, Katerina twisted her head from side to side, hoping to see the rest of the soldiers, but her view was limited. It was blocked by Ashfirth Saxon and his companion. So tall. Handsome devil, too. Except that he looks so angry. Ashfirth Saxon’s mouth was no longer smiling, it was set in a thin line. And those startling turquoise eyes might be looking at her past thick dark lashes, but they looked cold. Dispassionate. What did she expect? If this man was Commander of the Varangian Guard, the personal bodyguard to the Emperor, he would likely be more hard and ruthless than the rest.
Katerina cleared her throat. A guardsman’s battle-axe flashed in the sun. ‘I can see no standard, but they are very well armed. If I were you, I do not think I would want to keep this Ashfirth Saxon waiting.’
‘If you were me?‘ Princess Theodora’s voice became sharp. ‘You are insolent today, slave.’
Hurt sliced through Katerina like a blade. Slave. Well, that was what she had been until the Princess had rescued her—a slave. She had been one for so many years, it was a wonder the word had kept the power to wound, but wound it did. Particularly when it came from the lips of her princess, the princess who had freed her from the torture that her life as a slave had become. That Princess Theodora had sunk to remind Katerina of her past merely emphasised how repugnant she found the thought of marrying the Duke of Larissa.
Shooting the Princess a bleak glance—she was chewing her lip—Katerina’s heart softened. Her mistress was not by nature vindictive, as Katerina herself had good reason to know, it was simply that she was under too much strain. Duke Nikolaos terrified her. She knew it was not just slave girls who found themselves at the mercy of their menfolk.
Not even a princess can escape what men have planned for her!
The next moment a gentle hand reached for hers. ‘Katerina, forgive me?’
Katerina looked into the Princess’s eyes. Princess Theodora had eyes that Katerina had been assured mirrored her own almost exactly. They were, according to Lady Sophia, one of Princess Theodora’s ladies-in-waiting, the same shade of brown. Their eyes, Lady Sophia had said, had the same shape—they even had the same eyebrows. And the Princess’s mirror had confirmed it.
‘For what? You spoke the truth, despoina. Until you freed me, I was a slave.’
For a moment the old bitterness welled up and Katerina felt her heart harden. Her bitterness was not directed towards the princess who had bought and freed her, rather it was directed towards the man who had sold her into slavery. Her father.
Towards the Princess, Katerina felt only gratitude. She longed to be able to repay her for her generosity in offering Katerina—a peasant girl—a place in her aristocratic entourage and training her. But what could she—a maidservant—possibly have that a princess might desire?
A thoughtful expression came over Princess Theodora’s face. She leaned forwards and a beringed hand lifted to close the wooden shutter. From the other side of the gate, came the jangle of a bell and the bleat of a goat. A man laughed.
‘Katerina?’
‘My lady?’
‘Accompany me to the church. There is something I wish to meditate upon.’
‘Yes, despoina.’
When Princess Theodora, golden bracelets chinking in the light, linked arms with her, Katerina was unsurprised. This was more like the mistress she knew. Princess Theodora, niece of the Emperor himself, was a warm-hearted, even-handed woman who—while knowing of Katerina’s humble background—unfailingly treated her in the same way she treated her high-born ladies-in-waiting. Since taking Katerina under her wing, the Princess had taught Katerina the ways of the Court. She had taught her how to speak in a more refined manner—she had even taught her how to read.
Not many high-born ladies would even notice when a slave was being maltreated, but back in Rascia the Princess had noticed. Not many high-born ladies would then be willing to buy that slave to prevent her from further harm, but the Princess had done exactly that. And it was a rare woman indeed who would then go on to free the slave and offer her a position among her ladies.
If only there were some way of repaying her …
Lady Sophia and Lady Zoë made to follow them, but the Princess waved them away. ‘Leave us. I wish to offer up a few personal prayers, Katerina’s company will suffice.’
The church was cool and dark after the bright sunlight. Princess Theodora led Katerina to an alcove overlooked by a gaudily painted and earthy-looking statue of Saint Mary. Mary Magdalene, Katerina thought, lips twisting, the saint of fallen women everywhere. She shot her mistress a sidelong glance. Of course, how apt.
A couple of tallow candles lit the alcove and two nuns were kneeling before the statue. Reformed sinners? Perhaps. As the Princess and Katerina approached, the nuns glanced up, crossed themselves and scurried into the main church.
‘Katerina, I have a favour to ask and, out of all my ladies, you are the only one who might undertake it.’
‘Princess, from the moment you bought me in Rascia and gave me my freedom, I have been searching for a suitable way of thanking you. I would do anything for you!’
‘Anything? Be careful what you promise, Katerina.’ The Princess’s smile was strained. ‘You do not know what I may ask. It might be—’ she bit her lip ‘—somewhat dangerous.’
Katerina gripped her mistress’s hand. ‘I would do anything! I mean it, how could you think otherwise? What must I do? Tell me!’
‘No.’ Princess Theodora jerked her head away to stare at the cross on the altar. ‘It is too risky, I cannot ask it of you.’
‘Princess …’ Katerina moved closer. ‘I want to help you. Let me help you.’
Brown eyes looked steadily into brown. ‘If it were not for my…the baby…I would not think about asking. If only the Commander had not found us so soon.’ Her chest heaved. ‘Still, we cannot alter that, not now. We shall have to take it one step at a time.’
And then, to Katerina’s astonishment, the Princess’s hands went to the pins of her violet veil. ‘First, we shall see how this suits you.’ Then, gaze flickering towards the main church to ensure they were not overlooked, the Princess kicked off her jewelled sandals and nudged them towards Katerina. ‘And these, I want you to try these on for size.’ There was a flutter of silk as the veil was removed.
Katerina’s eyes went wide. ‘My lady?’
The Princess was looking her up and down, like a seamstress measuring someone for a new gown. ‘You are a little smaller than I, but we are almost of a height. Good. And it is most fortunate that our eyes are a match.’
A cold shiver ran down Katerina’s spine. She found herself staring at the jewelled sandals on the church flagstones.
‘Well? Try them on, Katerina. If they fit, you are going to meet with Commander Ashfirth to see what he has to say.’
Katerina swallowed. ‘That is how I am to repay you?’
The Princess, busily shaking out her veil, would not meet her gaze. ‘Perhaps. Now be quiet while I think, and put this on.’
Some minutes later, the snap of the shutter drew Ashfirth’s gaze