Betrothed to the Barbarian

‘You want me to go?’

‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting in the reception chamber.’ Katerina smiled. ‘I will introduce you properly when I have brought the Princess up to date with everything that has happened since we last saw each other.’

Commander Ashfirth nodded at Katerina, gave Theodora a grudging bow and left the bedchamber.

Theodora looked thoughtfully at Katerina. Katerina had had an unhappy past. Indeed, it had been Theodora who had saved her from a life of abuse as a slave and had freed her. The Katerina whom Theodora knew had been extremely wary of men. ‘You are very familiar with Commander Ashfirth.’

What has she told him?

Katerina’s smile lit up the bedchamber. ‘Yes, my lady, and with very good reason—the Commander is my husband.’

Theodora’s eyes went wide. ‘You married Commander Ashfirth?’ Theodora had never thought Katerina would be able to trust a man again, never mind marry. ‘So soon?’ It had only been a few weeks since Theodora had persuaded Katerina to take her place. And now she was married?

‘It was not a difficult choice, my lady, despoina. Ashfirth is an honourable man, and thanks to you I am—’ her chin inched up ‘—a free woman. I have every right to marry.’

Theodora smiled and touched Katerina’s arm. ‘Of course you do.’ Her hand fell away. ‘You must tell me everything. First, if you please, you must tell me how much you have told him.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Does he know about Martina?’

Katerina shook her head and a twist of hair, as dark as Theodora’s, trembled at her temple. ‘No.’

Theodora felt her tension ease. ‘Thank God.’ She frowned at the closed door. ‘Is Anna outside? I should like to see her, too.’

Katerina grimaced. ‘Princess, I … I’m afraid that is impossible, Lady Anna has left the City.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Lady Anna left Constantinople several days ago.’

Theodora groped for the bed, she had to sit down. ‘Anna abandoned you when I charged her with looking after you?’ Katerina had little knowledge of the ways of the Court, which was why Theodora had asked her lady-in-waiting, Anna of Heraklea, to go with her. Anna was meant to have taken Katerina under her wing; she had promised to explain the intricacies of court protocol to her … but if Anna had left the City …?

‘Princess, Lady Anna knew I was safe. By the time she left, she knew that Commander Ashfirth and I … that we …’ Katerina glanced at the great bed and coloured ‘She knew I was safe.’

Theodora rubbed her forehead. ‘What on earth happened? Blessed Mother, you had best start from when you arrived at the Palace.’

‘All went well, at first. I was nervous, of course, but Lady Anna was a great help and Ash … the Commander … was kind. We did not make much of a show of ourselves, nor did we plan to do so. But almost as soon as we had arrived, General Alexios staged his coup and his mercenaries overran the City. For a few days all was chaos.’

Theodora shook her head as Katerina told her about the old Emperor’s downfall, as she learned how Katerina and Anna were caught up in the unrest at the time of the coup and had to flee marauding mercenaries. Theodora did not have to be a seer to realise that Commander Ashfirth had helped Katerina, but her jaw dropped when she learned that Anna had been saved by a Frankish knight she had bought in the slave market.

Theodora held up her hand. ‘You are saying that Anna bought a cavalry officer at the slave market? A Frank?’

‘Yes, my lady, despoina.’

When Katerina proceeded to explain that Anna had fallen in love with the slave and had sailed off to Apulia with him in order to escape an arranged marriage, Theodora fell back against the mulberry pillows.

‘Anna let a Frankish cavalry officer carry her off to Apulia?’

‘Yes, Princess.’

Theodora could not help but groan. ‘I don’t know what I expected when we returned and found the apartment empty, but this …’ She caught her breath. ‘The knight will not hurt Anna, will he?’

‘I believe that he loves her, he intends to marry her.’

‘That at least is something to be thankful for.’

‘I am sorry, Princess. Everything was going smoothly until His Majesty, the new Emper—’

‘Yes, yes, I am sure you did your best.’ With a sigh, Theodora pushed herself upright. She needed no reminder that the dawn of the new regime changed everything. ‘In truth, Katerina, in the circumstances you did well. There is one slight problem …’

‘Despoina …?’

‘Duke Nikolaos came to this apartment in person this afternoon. He was looking for me. As I understand it, he arrived in Constantinople with His Majesty and he has been sending me messages for some days. The Duke is not pleased to have been, as he sees it, ignored.’

‘Oh.’

‘Exactly. Oh.’

Katerina clasped her hands at her breast. ‘Princess, I am deeply sorry not to have been here. Ashfirth felt it was too risky. I have been at his house in the City; he refused to let me leave.’

‘And you were happy to fall in with his wishes.’

‘I … yes.’

What must it be like to be loved in such a way? A painful twinge that felt alarmingly like envy shot through Theodora. What must it be like?

Katerina was staring at a swirling pattern in the marble floor, twisting her fingers together. ‘My apologies, Princess, I would have insisted on being here if I knew the Duke was in the City. Ashfirth didn’t tell me.’

‘Never mind, he was probably trying to protect you. And you are here now, which means we can each step back into our own shoes. It will be a relief to you, I am sure. Katerina, tomorrow the Imperial Court is going to find that Princess Theodora Doukaina is much recovered. She is going to make something of a show of herself and we need to discuss how she is to go about it. Once we have done that, you must take me into the reception chamber. I should like to thank your husband for all he has done for you.’

Next day, the bells for morning service had barely faded when courtiers in the Great Palace were at last granted clear sight of Princess Theodora Doukaina. She trotted out of the Imperial Stables at the head of a glittering entourage. Her stallion was the colour of milk, its flowing mane and tail had been neatly plaited with violet ribbon made from the same delicate fabric as her gown. The Princess had, so the word went, been up and about since dawn.

Princess Theodora led her cavalcade through the spring sunlight to the Mangana Palace, where she dismounted and went inside with a handful of ladies-in-waiting. She was doubtless reacquainting herself with her aunt, the former Empress. No one could say how the meeting went, the Princess had simply dismounted and gone inside. She emerged some half an hour later, climbed back into the saddle, and set about reacquainting herself with the City.

Princess Theodora Doukaina rode out through the Palace gates and no one had seen the like of it in years. A contingent of Varangians marched alongside her, fearsome battle-axes flashing in the light. Her outriders were wearing the uniform of Palace Guards and Lady Sophia, a favoured lady-in-waiting, was riding at her side. With the rest of her attendants riding a horse-length behind, the Princess processed down the entire length of the Mese—Middle Street.

Her next stop was at the Church of the Holy Apostles for prayers. Then she and her retinue paraded about under the arches of the aqueduct that carried fresh water into the heart of Constantinople. Citizens and slaves stopped in their tracks. From streets and alleyways, from windows and doors, heads craned to look.

There was no mistaking Princess Theodora Doukaina on that milk-white stallion. Some of the onlookers half-expected to discover that the Princess who had lived so long among the barbarians—ten years, imagine!—had grown horns and a tail. But there were no horns, just a jewel-encrusted diadem that had been set on elaborately arranged brown hair. Pearls swung on pendants dangling from the diadem; matching pearls hung from her ears. There was no tail, either, just yards of flowing violet silk. Princess Theodora’s smile was gracious and her brown eyes sparkled. She looked happy to be home.

Behind the Princess and her lady there was always that long and colourful train of ladies and maidservants. In short, the Princess was seen with enough attendants to satisfy the needs of a dozen princesses, let alone one. Silver glittered at wrists and fingers; gold shone on headbands and jewelled cloak-pins. Shawls fluttered, bright as butterfly wings—pink, blue, green, crimson. The ladies’ eyes were, as was seemly, downcast; they were talking to each other non-stop, chattering like sparrows. Harness jingled; hooves struck sparks from the paved streets.

Word spread like wildfire, the crowds grew. Everyone wanted to see for themselves that Princess Theodora was back. She was clearly enjoying perfect health and looked every inch the Princess. For those hoping for a scandal, she looked disappointingly normal.

‘So that’s what she looks like,’ one man muttered to his slave. ‘She was hidden away for so long, I thought she must be hideously scarred, but she’s lovely, quite lovely.’

‘That stallion is no lady’s mount,’ observed the young wife of one of the generals.

‘She’s controlling it well,’ the general said. ‘And given it only returned yesterday with her women, that is no mean feat, it must be champing at the bit for a good gallop.’

At last Theodora rode back to the stables, she was aware that all eyes had been on her—she had expected nothing less. They hoped for a pageant. I trust this has satisfied them. She felt exhausted.

‘Princess, we can leave the horses at the Boukoleon portico,’ Sophia said gently. ‘A groom will walk them back to the stables.’

‘I prefer to walk,’ Theodora said, realising, too late, that her tone had been curt. A slave-girl watching from one of the doorways lifted her eyebrows. Theodora made a note to soften her voice. She was not going to enjoy the restrictions that would be imposed on her, but there was no point snapping at poor Sophia because she was unused to being the centre of so much attention. ‘Besides, I have yet to inspect the stables. I want to speak to the head groom, there may be days when I am unable to ride and the horses must not be neglected.’

Sophia nodded.

Theodora gestured for one of the accompanying guards. ‘Captain Brand?’

‘Despoina?’

‘There are orders for the head groom that I should like to deliver personally. Lady Sophia will accompany me.’ She gestured at the train of attendants. ‘Be so good as to tell the other ladies they may return to the women’s quarters. You may escort them.’

‘Yes, my lady.’ The Captain exchanged words with a couple of sergeants and turned back to her. ‘Princess, I must tell you I have orders myself. Commander Ashfirth insists that I remain with you until you are safely in your apartment.’

Theodora kept her irritation from her face. Yes, this was how it was going to be. Already it had started; she was hedged in by rules, by other people’s expectations. Her days of freedom were truly over.

‘Very well, Captain.’

In a tack room in the Imperial Stables, Duke Nikolaos was checking his equipment with Elias and one of his grooms. That faulty girth had been weighing on his mind. His gear was regularly checked, both by himself and his groom, it seemed unlikely that they should have missed such an obvious flaw.

‘This saddle is fine, my lord,’ Elias pronounced.

‘This halter also,’ said the groom.

Nikolaos looped the bridle he had been examining on to its hook with a sound of exasperation. ‘And this. I simply don’t understand how we could have missed that girth.’

‘Everything here is in order, Duke Nikolaos. Shall I return the saddles to the racks?’

‘Please do.’ Nikolaos waved at the heap of harness. ‘Put it all away, Paul, there’s nothing wrong with any of it.’ He paused. ‘On second thought, leave out gear for two horses, I have business in the City; afterwards I shall take a gallop through the countryside. Elias, saddle up, you are coming with me.’

Nikolaos hefted a saddle at his manservant and together they headed for the stalls.

‘Where to, my lord?’ Elias asked, slipping the bridle over the brown mare that had been his gift from his master some years previously.

Hercules harrumphed and whickered a greeting as his master entered his stall. ‘We shall go to Cleo’s first and then—’

‘Cleo’s?’ Elias looked faintly uncomfortable. ‘Are you sure you want me with you?’

‘I shan’t stay long,’ Nikolaos said, slinging the saddle on to his horse and tightening the girth.

‘You are going to tell her about your marriage.’

‘She knows about that already. I am going to bid her farewell.’

Elias went very still. ‘Really?’

Nikolaos gave his manservant a rueful look. ‘I cannot afford to alienate a princess, Elias. Remember, she is a Doukas—cousin to the Empress.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘It strikes me that, if I am to be married, I should start by trying to do the right thing. Cleo must go.’ Lady Verina had given Nikolaos a mistrust of women; nevertheless, he wanted to at least start his marriage by trying to do the right thing.

Light footsteps approached. Voices. A shadow formed in the doorway. One of the stable boys was hanging about outside, watching someone in the stable yard.

Elias muttered under his breath.

‘What’s that, Elias?’

‘Nothing, my lord.’

Niko narrowed his eyes. ‘You don’t believe me.’

Elias leaned against the black’s neck. ‘You and the lovely Cleo go back a long way, that is all, she is more than fond of you. Do you want me to take her a message?’

‘No, I must tell her myself.’ The voices approached and more shadows darkened the doorway. ‘Cleo will understand, she’s a practical woman. If only all women—’

Elias glanced towards the door and blanched. ‘My lord,’ he hissed, with a swift, silencing gesture that had the black mare toss her head. ‘We are no longer alone.’

A diminutive lady was silhouetted in the doorway. Her features were in shadow, but Nikolaos could see that she was wearing one of the finest gowns ever to grace the Imperial Court. Violet silk. His heart lurched. Her gown wasn’t the deep purple that was reserved for the Emperor’s closest family, but violet such as might be worn by … Princess Theodora Doukaina?

Holy hell. First sight of his betrothed would have to be when he had been talking about Cleo. And the Princess was well within earshot …

A golden diadem sat on glossy, elaborately arranged brown hair, pendant pearls glowed in the sun. Yes, this could only be Princess Theodora Doukaina.

Involuntarily, Nikolaos reached a hand towards her and stepped out of the stall.

Her head turned, the pearls swung on their pendants, and a pair of dark eyes flashed in his direction. Head high, she gave Nikolaos a cool look and turned away. A woman—one of the ladies he had seen yesterday in the apartment—trotted after her.

With a groan, Nikolaos shoved his hand through his hair. ‘Don’t tell me, that was Princess Theodora.’ He hadn’t been able to see her properly, but she had looked vaguely familiar. Her dark eyes … He might be imagining it, but her eyes were extremely similar to those of the heavily veiled woman he had spoken to yesterday in the Princess’s apartment. A man noticed a woman’s eyes when that was all he could see of her, particularly when those eyes were unusually fine. And those long, sooty eyelashes and lustrous brown eyes were exceptional. ‘Blast it, she heard me mention Cleo.’

Striding to the door, he leaned on the frame. Violets, he could smell violets. There was a rustle of silk as his betrothed picked up her silk skirts and crossed the yard. He noticed she was crumpling the costly material with little regard for its rarity, which was interesting. Was she angry? Irritated? Yes, he would swear that anger was there in the set of her shoulders, in the way she never looked back …

Very interesting. Could this be the same woman he had spoken to in the Princess’s apartment yesterday? If so, why had she made such a mystery of her identity? True, convention demanded they met officially before they spoke together, but she could surely have been more open with him. What was going on?

I spoke to the Princess yesterday, those eyes are unforgettable. As was the scent of violets. Yesterday he had barely noticed it, but a spring-like fragrance had hung about her, cutting through the heavier scents of musk and roses.

The anger was a puzzle. He was not the first unmarried general to have taken a mistress and he would not be the last. Since he and the Princess had yet to form a bond, she could not be jealous. Pride might explain it. She was a proud princess and learning of Cleo had angered her. Yes, pride was probably at the root of it. Which meant that she knew who he was. So I did speak to her yesterday—why the mystery?

Thoughtfully, Nikolaos watched the violet silk whisk along the sunlit path. It seemed he must watch his step where his Princess was concerned. He must watch her. It occurred to him that for her to risk ruining that priceless violet gown—Imperial silk—in a stable yard, she must like her horses. ‘We have that in common, at any rate,’ he muttered.

‘My lord?’

‘The Princess likes horses.’

As Princess Theodora gained the path that led towards the Boukoleon Palace and vanished behind an antique statue, Nikolaos glanced back at Elias. ‘Did you recognise her?’

Elias looked blankly at him. ‘My lord?’

‘She’s the lady we spoke to in the Princess’s apartment.’

‘I don’t think so, my lord.’

Niko shrugged. ‘I can’t be certain it’s the same woman, but why else would she be angry?’

Elias began to splutter. ‘That’s obvious, my lord, you mentioned your mis—Cleo. Everyone knows that whenever you are in the City, you go straight to Cleo.’

‘Exactly. Think, man. It’s one thing for me to recognise the Princess in all her finery, but how did she recognise me?’

I … I don’t quite follow.’

Nikolaos gestured at his plain brown tunic, at his workaday chausses and scuffed boots. ‘We have yet to be introduced. Unless she was the lady we spoke to yesterday, how would she know me?’

With a sigh, Nikolaos returned to the stall, unbuckled his saddle and heaved it off Hercules.

‘We are not riding, my lord?’

‘Later. Since Princess Theodora has at last emerged from hiding, the least we can do is go and greet her.’

‘And Cleo?’

‘Cleo will have to wait.’

‘Did you hear him, Sophia?’ Theodora demanded, taking the stairs up to her apartment in the women’s quarters. Captain Brand dogged their heels. ‘My betrothed probably has women hidden all over the City.’

At the landing outside the apartment, sight of her jewelled diadem had the guards jumping to attention—they saluted, they bowed almost to the floor. The polished doors swung open. Brushing past the guards, Theodora made straight for the small room at the far end of the reception chamber. The room had one slim window and was little more than a closet, but Theodora had decreed that it should be Martina’s nursery. She wished it might be more spacious, but to have given anything grander to a child who was supposed to have been born to a slave would certainly rouse suspicions.

The wet-nurse Jelena was sitting next to a wooden cradle, folding baby clothes. Jelena had been with them since Dyrrachion and she had that morning been informed of Theodora’s Imperial connections. However, she remained ignorant of the fact that Theodora was Martina’s mother.

Bending over the cradle, Theodora ran her finger down a lightly flushed cheek and stroked her daughter’s hair. Martina had recently begun to teethe, and since Theodora was in the habit of spending most of the day with her, she had been concerned that the baby might be upset with only her nurse for company.

‘She went to sleep without fretting, Jelena?’

‘Martina has been fine, my lady, despoina. She began to fuss, but I found a coral teether and that did the trick.’

‘Thank you, Jelena. How long has she been asleep?’

‘Not long.’

Theodora nodded. It was dawning on her that even if she managed to keep her daughter, her duties as a princess would separate them more than she would like. However, Jelena was both caring and competent, and if Martina was happy with her, that was what mattered.

Lightly, she touched Jelena’s arm. ‘I am glad you came with us.’

‘Thank you, despoina.’

Theodora rubbed her forehead, her head was thumping. ‘I shall come back to see Martina later, when she is awake.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

Theodora left the nursery, nodding at the smiling, curtsying ladies who awaited her pleasure in the reception chamber. Her head ached so much, it was a struggle to remember that the servants were always watching and she must give lip service to the lie that some of her ladies would not have spoken to her for some weeks. I must remember, I am meant to have returned to the Palace some weeks ago and my ladies sailed in yesterday.

‘Thetis, are you well?’ she asked, smiling.

Thetis curtsied and followed Theodora’s lead. ‘I thank you, despoina, I am very well.’

‘And Cassandra …’ Theodora made her voice warm ‘… how are you?’

‘Never better, my lady.’

‘That is good to hear.’ For the benefit of the servants and any guards not under Commander Ashfirth’s orders, Theodora raised her voice. ‘It is such a relief to be reunited with my ladies at last—I have missed you. You shall tell me about your voyage in due course. First, I would speak alone with Sophia. Come, Sophia.’

Retreating into the opulent bedchamber, Theodora dragged the diadem from her head and tossed it on to the mulberry bedcover. With a groan and a grimace, she began massaging her scalp. ‘I had forgotten the weight of that thing.’

Sophia clucked her tongue and retrieved the diadem, the pearl pendants had become entangled. Reverently, she straightened them.

Theodora began to drag the pins from her hair and Sophia watched the destruction of the elaborate hair arrangement she had taken so long to create with rueful resignation. Hairpins went the way the diadem had gone, bouncing off a tasselled cushion. Theodora’s hair rippled as it was released, a glossy dark cascade which hung to her waist.

Aware she was frowning, Theodora searched her hair for more pins. ‘Did you hear my betrothed? He knows our official meeting must be soon, yet he is arranging assignations in the City.’ She thrust her shawl and a couple of stray hairpins at Sophia. ‘She must be his mistress.’

‘You don’t know that, my lady.’

Theodora let out a sound of vexation. ‘You don’t need to be a soothsayer to read Duke Nikolaos. A man like that will have women scattered all over the Empire, waiting on his pleasure.’

Carefully, Sophia set the diadem and hairpins on a gilded side-table. She shook out the shawl. ‘A man like that?’

‘A … a man of … vigour and experience.’

‘Vigour. Experience. Hmm.’ Sophia shot her a penetrating look and pursed her lips. ‘Certainly. Duke Nikolaos seems extremely … vigorous.’

Theodora held down a blush and paced to the window. Sophia knew her too well. She had realised that Theodora found the Duke handsome, she knew Theodora was carnally attracted to him. And as for his vigour … his energy … that, too, was attractive. She sighed. What would it be like to be loved by a man of experience, rather than a boy? The thought seemed so disloyal, she pushed it away. I loved Peter, I do not love the Duke and he does not love me. If I bedded with the Duke, of course it would be disappointing …

There. That was better, that was much more loyal. If only she could believe it.

Resting her arms on a window ledge, she found herself gazing out over one of the Palace courtyards. She could see the Palace walls that separated them from the city she had once been so sad to leave. And beyond the walls lay the huge stone oval of the Hippodrome, the great arena where chariot races and circuses were staged.