Silence persisted in the Great Hall. Those gathered enjoyed their meal with respect and deference to their King.
But Róisín found this unusual. Uncomfortable, even.
Her mind still reeled with the reality she now inhabited. A queen — not a nun — and a pagan queen at that. So many conflicting ideas battled for control of her spirit.
On one hand, she was raised to despise heathens like Vetrulfr. On the other, her life in the priory had been nothing but cruel.
Vetrulfr, despite being her captor, was the only kindness she had received in this life — save for the friendship of Eithne.
It was too much. Her heart moved before her mind could reason.
"Pater noster, qui es in caelis… da mihi consilium…"
Dear Father in Heaven, please… give me guidance…
The Latin words may have gone unnoticed by the others in the hall, but not by Vetrulfr. His eyes shifted to the girl beside him. Noticed the way her fingers curled into prayer.
