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stride and turned on her in a fury.
    â€œIt shall not happen! Do you hear me? You are not, I repeat, not going to be a nun.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œYour mother—God rest her soul—insisted on the same thing ere she died, and I could do naught about it. But I can and will do something now. I am your father, and I will not allow you to throw your life away by becoming a nun.”
    Rosamunde looked briefly stunned at those words; then, seeing the stiff expression on the abbess’s face at the insult in her father’s words, she allowed her temper free rein. “It is not throwing my life away! ’Tis perfectly acceptable to become a bride of God! I—”
    â€œWill God see you blessed with children?” Henry snarled, interrupting her curt words.
    She looked taken aback briefly at that, then regained herself to snap, “Mayhap. He saw Mary blessed with Jesus.”
    â€œ Jesus?” For a moment it looked as though he might explode, or drop dead. His face was purple with rage.
    It was the bishop who intervened, drawing the king’s attention with the gentle words, “Your majesty, it is a great honor to become a bride of God. If Rosamunde truly has a calling, it is not well done to force her to—”
    â€œYou!” Henry turned on the man. “I will not hear your religious drivel. Thanks to your dillydallying, we nearly did not arrive here in time. If I hadn’t chanced to hear of Aric’s broken betrothal and saved a day’s riding bychoosing him as groom instead of Rosshuen, we would have been too late!” Whirling on the abbess, he roared, “Why was I not informed of these plans?”
    The abbess blinked at him, taken aback. “We…I thought you knew, my liege. It was Rosamunde’s mother’s wish that she follow in her footsteps and become a nun. She said so on her deathbed. As you had not arranged a betrothal, I thought you agreed.”
    â€œI do not agree,” he snapped, then added, “And I have been making arrangements. But what I meant was, why was I not informed of the imminent ceremony?”
    â€œWell…I do not know, Your Majesty. I did send word. Some time ago, in fact. It should have reached you in plenty of time for you to attend. We hoped you might.”
    The king turned on Shrewsbury again at that news, eyes narrowed and accusing, but the bishop flushed helplessly and murmured, “We have been moving around quite a bit, my liege. Le Mans, then Chinon…Mayhap it arrived after we left. I shall, of course, look into it the moment we return.”
    Henry glared at him briefly, then turned on his daughter. “You are not taking the veil. You will marry. You are the only child of mine who has not turned against me. I will see grandchildren from you.”
    â€œJohn has never turned against you.”
    â€œHe has joined with my enemies.”
    â€œThat is just gossip,” she argued with disdain.
    â€œAnd if ’tis true?”
    Rosamunde’s mouth thinned at the possibility. Truly, no man in history had suffered so from betrayal as her father. Every one of his legitimate sons, her half brothers, had come to turn on him under the influence of their mother, Queen Eleanor. “There are still William and Geoffrey,” she whispered, mentioning Henry’s other two bastard children.
    His expression turned solemn at that, and he reached out to clasp her by the shoulders. “But they were not bornof my fair Rosamunde. The love of my life. I am a selfish old man, child. I would see the fruit of out love grow and bloom and cast its seeds across the land, not be stifled and die here in this convent. I would see you marry.”
    Rosamunde sighed at that, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “And so I shall. Who is to be my groom?”
    Aric stiffened as the king suddenly turned toward him.
    â€œBurkhart.” The king gestured for him to step forward, and Aric unconsciously