When we arrive at the campsite, fresh venison is already roasting on spits. I jump off the wagon and run to the shore to see if the new queen is near, but I only see endless water. I ask one of the stewards if anyone has seen the queen’s boat.
He leers at me. “Why? Are you hoping to join her household?”
I take a step back. “You can’t speak to me that way. I’m Hildeburg, the king’s niece.”
“Then, for the safety of us all, go back to your mother. There are too many men about, drinking their weight in mead. They won’t stop to ask for an introduction.”
I drop my head, clutching my skirts. “But the queen … ?”
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