Page 109 of The Thornwyck Rose

The keep’s servants approached and took away her mantle and her outer dress with gentle hands as if disrobing Christ himself.

Seren’s stomach rolled, but her face stayed calm.

The December cold made her shudder from the sudden loss of warmth from her cloak.

“On your knees,” Henry ordered with a snarl. “Bring my Welsh daughters too!”

She dipped her head and kneeled, wearing only her chemise, fingers folding neatly into the wool.

“Your daughters perished in an accident in the orchard,” she said in the doe’s voice she had learned to use with Henry. “There is no one else to bring.”

“Good. Less blood on my hands.” Henry accepted the lie in his anger as he circled her like a wolf.

“Montfort never loses,” he growled. “Never. Yet he fell. Yet we wereforcedto retreat. We weredefeated. And I know why.”

His voice dripped hate.

“You sent messages. Spies. Betrayed me in my absence. Warned your kin. Told them of my attack formations,” he spewed.

“I am but a woman, my lord husband,” she said. “I knew nothing of your attack formations. Who would I send? You never sent word of where you were. How was I to know what to say in betrayal?”

He slapped her hard. “You may have everyone else fooled, but you do not fool me!” He struck her again.

Blood tickled high in the nose, but she sniffed it back and down her throat.

“I was not the reason you were defeated,” Seren said, bracing herself for another strike.

It came as expected, but this time, a closed fist.

David trembled, watching his father as one might watch an executioner.

Father Osbert stood in his corner. “My lord, this is your lady. The mother of your children, and you are accusing her of treason with no proof presented. You cannot?—”

Henry whirled on him. “Remove the priest. Drag him to the chapel. He can pray while she dies a traitor.”

No one moved to obey. Even Geoffrey and Jovin shifted in place. Seren turned her head, and the keep’s guards obeyed her silent request and surrounded the priest.

Seren steadied her breath. She could not allow any rebellion to break out, not with David standing behind his father and not with her daughters and Ragnar hidden below. If Thornwyck defied Henry, then the king’s justice would crush them all beneath the crown’s order for the Norman armies to march upon Mortlande. The Welsh would likely descend as well.

Father Osbert’s nostrils flared, his eyes darting between David, Seren, and Henry.

He lifted his chin to her—an honor he had given no one else. “I will pray for your innocent soul, milady,” he said as the guards took him away. He tried to fight for his arms, but they kept a tight hold.

Her throat tightened, but she did not falter. Better her life than their blood.

Henry snapped his fingers once Father Osbert was gone. “Commander de Bramber. Take the traitor’s head.”

A hush fell as Geoffrey drew beside Seren.

David went still as he locked eyes with Seren.

“Father,” his voice pleaded. “She’s done nothing wrong. She’s not a traitor. She is loyal to you.”

Henry flicked his hand. Two guards seized David’s arms.

“She is my mother!” David shouted, voice cracking.

Henry turned and struck him across the face, hard and final. David dropped to his knees, blood dripping down his lip.