Chapter 42

  Present Day

  When Tillie left the chamber, Greshyn was not on his stool. She paused, his absence disorientating. Ever since Sylvin had brought her and the boys from the slave market, Greshyn had been a constant fixture. It was Greshyn who had organised clothing emblazoned with the silver dragon, who had seen to it that they were fed, and it had been he who had seen to it that they were given the dark little room rather than having no space of their own.

  She crossed to the kitchen, holding the baby to her chest, and stood by the door, intimidated by the activity within. The long wooden table was surrounded by people preparing food, whilst a team of lads carried cauldrons of boiling water to the laundry room beyond the kitchen.

  “What do you need?”