She leaned forward and held the candle high to look at his ears. Already they were tiny, the ears of a child. Only Hugo's long curly hair and the caps he always wore had prevented her from seeing it before. She looked at his lips. The sharp profile of his upper lip was blurred. The attractive, kissable bow of the upper lip and the sharp pout of the lower lip had melted. Only the perimeter of the dark shadow of stubble marked where his lips should start. The light flickered as the candle shook in Alys' hands. On an impulse she bent over him and gently shook him.

'Open your eyes, Hugo!' she said softly. 'Open your eyes a moment!'

He rolled away from her touch, mumbling something in his sleep, but when she shook him again his eyelids flickered open though he was still dreaming. In the moment before he closed them again and sank back into sleep, Alys peered closely at them. Across each dark pupil there was a tiny trail of cloudy grey as if someone had drawn a fingernail across his eyeballs.

Alys let him sleep and put the candlestick carefully on the bedside table. She slipped into bed beside him and piled the pillows up against the heavy carved headboard and sat upright, waiting for the dawn. She was cold and white but she made no move to pull the covers around her shoulders or to huddle down beside Hugo's contented sleeping warmth. Alys sat upright in her rich bed with the young lord beside her, his arm thrown lovingly across her, and waited for the dawn of another day with her face as grim and fearful as her betrayed mother Morach had looked all the years of Alys' childhood, when magic was not enough to make them safe.

In the morning Hugo was in a hurry to be off hunting. Stephen had brought him a new horse and he wanted to try its paces. The day was sunny and it would be too hot for hard riding later on. Besides, he had to be home early for the court in the afternoon. He barely noticed Alys' pale wakefulness.

'Are you well?' he asked, pausing in the doorway wearing only his shirt. 'You well, Alys?'

She blinked at him, her blue eyes strained and red-rimmed from the long night of watching. 'I dreamed,' she said. 'Bad dreams.'

'Good God, so did I!' Hugo said, remembering. 'I dreamed my fingers had gone. Gone like a leper. God! What a terror!'

Alys tried to mirror his relieved grin, but she could not. 'Show me your fingers,' she said 'Show me them.' Hugo laughed. 'It was only a dream, sweetheart. See!' He stepped back into the room and held out his right hand for Alys to inspect. In the bright dawn light from the arrow-slit she looked at the back of his hand. The fingernails were perfect, smooth and strong. His fingers were long and well-proportioned.

Alys gave a little hidden gasp of relief and turned his hand over. On each finger there was a perfect whorl -his fingertips were sound.

'We're both as fey as each other!' Hugo exclaimed. He bent down and gave her a quick buss on her cheek. 'Let me go, Alys! I'm going hunting!'

'Are your ears all right?' she demanded, as he went to the door.

He turned and grinned at her, as feckless as a child. 'Yes! Yes! Every part of me is well, and some parts of me are superb! Now may I go?'

Alys laughed unwillingly, her heart lightening despite her fear. 'Go then!' she said.

The door banged and he was gone. Alys pulled up the covers and slid down into the warmth where his body had lain. She shrugged her shoulders against her night fears. 'I won't think about it,' she said to herself as her eyes closed. 'I won't think about it.'

Catherine's door was open when the women came into the gallery in the morning. She was sprawled across the bed, door flung wide, waiting for them.

'I'll have my breakfast here!' she yelled. 'You, Ruth, bring me bread and ale. I'll have some roast beef or venison, and some goat's cheese. I fasted last night and I am hungry today. Fetch it for me at once.'

Eliza shot a quick irreverent grin at Alys. 'She's drunk!' she whispered. 'Good God, what now!'

Alys stepped up to the door. By Catherine's bed was the jug they kept in the cupboard of the gallery; it was rolling on its side, leaving a trail of red lees over the floorboards. 'Where did you get wine, Catherine?' Alys asked. Catherine's face was flushed, her hair tousled, her eyes bright. 'Went down to the hall at dawn!' she said triumphantly. 'I can serve myself when I need, you know. I'm not some whey-faced child that they can torment. I've been Lady Catherine here for years. I kicked a page awake and he brought me dinner and wine. I've been drinking ever since.' The women fluttered behind Alys in consternation. 'Downstairs in her shift,' Ruth said softly. 'Oh dear!' Alys bit back a smile. 'You're drunk,' she said concisely to Catherine. 'You had better eat some bread and then sleep. You'll be sick enough later.'

Catherine shook her head and pointed imperiously to her window. 'I give the orders here, Alys. I am not yet commanding a pig and a cow on the edge of the moor. I am not yet set aside and shamed for the benefit of you and whatever you carry in your belly! Go and fetch me some more wine. I'll have clary wine – that's a good wine to drink in daylight. And I'll have ale with my breakfast! And then tell them to bring me a bath. I shall bathe and wear my rose and cream gown. And I shall dine in the hall today.'

Alys heard Eliza's giggle smothered from behind her hand. She turned around. 'She's impossible,' she said to the women. 'One of you sit with her. We'll have to do as she wishes. She'll pass out with the drink soon enough.'

'She can't go down to dinner like this,' Ruth said, scandalized.

Alys shook her head. 'She'll be sick long before dinnertime if she's been drinking all night.'

'My breakfast!' Catherine shouted imperiously, with the authority of the enormously drunk. 'At once, girl!'

No one had called Alys 'girl' for many months. Alys smiled wryly and nodded towards Catherine. 'At once,' she said with mock obedience. She closed the heavy carved door and pointed to Ruth and then Mary.

'You fetch her breakfast, what she wanted. It makes no difference, she'll be vomiting it up in moments. And you, Mary, go to the kitchen and tell them to set water to heat, and order her a bath.'

The two nodded. Alys led the rest of them downstairs for their breakfast, and waited in the lobby for the old lord and David to come down the stairs from the round tower. 'Good morrow, Alys,' the old lord said. Alys stepped forward and kissed his hand. David opened the door for the two of them and they entered the hall together.

Breakfast was a meal taken without ceremony at the castle. There was too much to do in the early hours of the day for much delay. The kitchen sent out a continuous stream of messes – four-person platters of bread and cheese and cold bacon. Serving-women and men went around the hall serving ale and hot water. People came and went, with a quick bow to the high table when one of the lords was seated and dining.

Hugo was long gone – out hunting with Stephen. Most of the soldiers were fed and at their posts by the early light. Alys sat at the lord's side and ate the best bread with him and drank a small cup of hot water with a sprinkling of chamomile on the top.

'What's the brew?' the old lord asked. 'Chamomile,' Alys said. 'For calmness.' The lord gave a snort of amusement. 'Calmness is for the grave,' he said. 'I'd rather have panic any day. Tells me I am still alive.'

'Then you should have been born a woman,' Alys said.

He gave a quick guffaw of laughter. 'God forbid!' he said. 'What panics are you suffering, little Alys?'

'Catherine,' Alys said. 'She got hold of some wine in the night and she's still carousing this morning. She thinks of coming to dinner, primped up in her best, and winning back your affection.'

The old lord slapped the table with his hand and roared with laughter. Men taking breakfast on the nearby tables looked up, smiling, and one shouted, 'Share the jest, my lord!'