16 January, 1370. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten.
Celia lay on her belly on the bed, one arm dangling over the side and gently rocking Gabriel's cradle. The baby had a full belly and was slowly drifting off to sleep.
She wasn't sure what was making her feel so melancholy that morning. Maybe it was knowing that the time when she was the sole focus of Gabriel's world, grew shorter with every passing day.
Right now, I'm all he knows and all he needs to know. He's rocked in my arms, he feeds from my breast. He knows my voice when I sing him to sleep. But soon, the rest of the world will be set upon him.
And it isn't a pleasant world, either.
Court life, for all its ease and luxury, presented a great many challenges. It could tempt even the best soul to do the wrong thing.
Is this the life I really want for my boy, she asked?