Enfleda covers her ears with her hands and shakes her head, as though she can escape reality by retreating into her mind.
I edge closer to her and grasp her shoulders. “Enfleda, stop it,” I say gently. I pull her hands off her ears. “The arrangements have already been made. You’re to marry King Oswy next summer.”
“I don’t want to marry a king!”
“I didn’t want to be an abbess, but here I am. It’s a good life, one you will have after you serve as Queen of Northumbria.”
“What makes you think I’ll outlive the king?”
“I’m sure he’ll be killed in some battle, like your father was. Now stop this nonsense and accept your fate.” I kiss my daughter’s forehead. “It is done.”
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