The Chosen Queen Read Online Free PDF

like Svana, maybe she should?
    ‘Don’t fret,’ Svana said, seeing her face. ‘There’s time enough for that too. Ah, Elaine, thank you.’
    Edyth turned gratefully to the mended gown and perused it disbelievingly – the rich fabric was nigh-on as good as new. She looked at Elaine’s fingers and back to the gown.
    ‘Are you magic?’ she asked uncertainly.
    ‘Nay, lass,’ Elaine laughed. ‘Just well practised.’
    Svana placed a gentle hand on Edyth’s arm.
    ‘There is no magic, you know, Edyth, whatever they say – save, perhaps, the magic we make ourselves. Shall I help you on with the dress?’
    ‘I can manage, thank you.’
    Edyth scrambled behind the screen, senses whirling. She was reluctant to surrender Svana’s luscious robe but out in the compound the creaking abbey bell was sounding to call people to the
council and her mother would be furious at her absence. Her father too. Swiftly, she changed, folding Svana’s slippery gown as carefully as she could.
    ‘I must go.’
    ‘Indeed. Thank you so much for coming by.’
    Svana made it sound as if this had been nothing more than a polite social call and Edyth was grateful but Harold . . . ? She glanced at him. He wasn’t the tallest of men but he held his
shoulders strongly and seemed to have extra height in his commanding eyes. He was handsome, she supposed. His eyes were a striking midnight blue, his sand-blond hair richly curled, and his arms so
broad and long they looked as if they’d wrap around you twice. What did he look like when he was . . . ? She shook the wanton thought away. She couldn’t go around assessing every man
like this just because of one glimpsed moment.
    ‘Will you tell my mother?’ she asked nervously.
    Harold looked to Svana, and Edyth saw her shake her head. She held her breath.
    ‘Not this time,’ Harold confirmed, ‘but, Edyth, take care. The tree might throw you harder to the ground next time.’
    Remembering Torr’s challenging stare, Edyth knew what he meant and shook her head against the rogue memories now firmly embedded in her mind. Taking her leave of Harold and Svana, she
stepped cautiously outside and immediately caught sight of her father’s black cloak down one of the rough walkways between the pavilions. Heart beating, she ducked out of sight, crossing
round behind a series of smaller tents so that she came out behind him.
    ‘Father.’
    ‘Edyth, about time! Your mother’s clucking like a bantam. Where in God’s name have you been?’
    Edyth stared up at him. She’d never lied to her father before; never had to. She’d been the victim of his ready temper many times but on the whole, whilst he was tough on her three
brothers, he’d ever been indulgent to her. Now though . . . Fumbling in her pocket, still thankfully attached to her belt, she drew out the ribbons she’d bought at market and held them
sheepishly up. For a moment he looked suspicious and then he grinned.
    ‘Really, Edie my love, only you could spend so long over ribbons! Still . . .’ He leaned in, an almost childish smile playing across his lips, ‘we’ve all had to make an
effort today.’
    He patted his tunic, a new one in expensive dark blue which stretched paler across his belly, then nodded ruefully to the matching bindings around his trews.
    ‘You look very handsome, Father,’ Edyth provided.
    ‘Thank you, Edie, and I’m sure your ribbons are lovely; it’s important you look your best if you are to be the Earl of Northumbria’s daughter.’
    ‘Father . . . !’
    ‘Tush, ’tis a formality, that’s all. Before long everyone will know. Come now, though, let me take you through to the moot-point – your mother has been waiting on the
benches for ages and I must join the rest of the council.’
    He straightened and, contorting his face into a look of studied gravity, offered her his arm. Edyth took it cautiously, worried he might sense the Earl of Wessex’s previous escort, but
Alfgar seemed oblivious