Betrothed to the Barbarian. Carol Townend

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СКАЧАТЬ am hazy about which staircase leads where in the Boukoleon.’

      ‘My lord, you do recall that Princess Theodora’s apartment is watched over by Varangian Guards?’

      Nikolaos lifted a brow. ‘I remember. And I am sure they have sworn allegiance to Emperor Alexios and are as loyal as they have always been. As I am. May I remind you that my own regiment supported His Majesty? I doubt I will be questioned.’

      ‘Yes, my lord, I know. But … but … she is a princess.’

      By now Nikolaos and Elias had left several courtyards behind them and had passed the stables and the lighthouse. An imposing building rose before them, with walls like cliffs. The Boukoleon Palace. On the upper levels, Nikolaos could see the stone balustrades where terraces overlooked the gardens and courtyards. On the other side of the Boukoleon, the balconies looked out over the Sea of Marmara.

      Nikolaos and Elias reached a columned portico where a broad flight of marble stairs led upwards. ‘The women’s quarters, Elias?’

      His manservant’s throat worked. ‘This way, my lord.’

      Some hours earlier, Theodora’s galley had docked at the Imperial harbour. By the time the sun began to sink, she and her entourage were busy exploring the Princess’s apartment at the top of the Boukoleon Palace.

      It was a magnificent apartment and had been reduced to chaos by their arrival. Slaves and servants ran in and out of the great double doors, laden with packing cases and trinket boxes. Others bore ewers of water and linen cloths. Trays of refreshments were set out on side-tables for travel-worn ladies. There was something to suit all palates—goblets of wine; milk sweetened with honey; cold meats and soft cheeses; shelled hazelnuts, almond cakes, dates. The gleaming marble floor was hidden under untidy heaps of baggage; ladies’ cloaks were strewn over gilded chairs, across inlaid tables and painted screens. Braziers had been lit to lift the chill from the air; and there, on another side-table, perfumed smoke wreathed from a golden globe—roses and the rich scent of incense mingled with the slight tang of salt blown in from the sea.

      The time had come for Theodora to end the deception. She must stop pretending to be a lady-in-waiting and become, once again, Princess Theodora Doukaina. The transition from lady-in-waiting to Princess would be tricky, though. There was much to take account of … sins both real and assumed.

      ‘It is time, Sophia,’ Theodora murmured as they stood in the light of a large window.

      Martina was held fast in Sophia’s arms. Filmy purple drapes hung from ceiling to floor, silk hangings that shifted in the breeze coming off the Sea of Marmara. Imperial purple. Theodora bit her lip as guilt rushed through her. Theodora had not herself been ‘born in the purple’. This meant that she had not been born in the Purple Chamber, the great birthing room in the Palace that was lined with purple marble and set aside for the confinement of an Empress. Notwithstanding this, she had been allocated this wonderful apartment decorated with the Imperial purple. It was a great honour.

       It is an honour I do not deserve, I was not born in the Purple Chamber. Worse, I have deceived everyone. Worse still, I have every intention of continuing to deceive them.

      Theodora was as heavily veiled as a Princess of Persia, her gown was voluminous and hid her shape. Until she had successfully reclaimed her place as Princess Theodora Doukaina, she would have to go on hiding behind shawls and veils. Until she found Katerina, the maidservant she had sent on ahead to impersonate her, she must continue to conceal her identity.

      Theodora and Katerina were completely unrelated and it was by chance that they might be taken for twins. They had the same dark hair, the same dark eyes, the same slight frame. Some of the ladies had said the Princess and her maidservant were as alike in features and build as two peas in a pod. And until Theodora was once again in her own shoes, until she knew what had been happening in the Palace in the past few weeks, she was not prepared to be seen by anyone save her ladies.

      But, Holy Mother, what a mire she had walked into! Katerina seemed to have vanished and so, too, had Lady Anna of Heraklea. Lady Anna was the lady-in-waiting Theodora had sent to accompany Katerina. Theodora had charged Lady Anna with ensuring Katerina had everything she needed to convince the Court that it was she who was Princess Theodora Doukaina.

      ‘Where do you think Katerina and Anna have got to, Sophia?’ she asked, conscious of the Varangian Guard standing by the great polished doors, watching them. She edged away from him. ‘Why is that guard staring at us? Do you think he knows where they are?’

      Sophia gave the Varangian a surreptitious glance. ‘You are imagining it, he is simply curious to see the Princess’s ladies. I do not think it is more than that.’

      ‘I wish I could agree with you. Where are Katerina and Anna? Why aren’t they here?’

      ‘The guard mentioned they were visiting friends.’

      ‘Which friends?’

      ‘He refused to say.’

      ‘Why? Why would he not say?’

      ‘Perhaps he does not know.’

      Theodora sighed. ‘Perhaps. Lord, it would have been better if Katerina and Anna had kept themselves to the apartment.’ She rearranged her veil, making sure the guard could only catch a glimpse of her. In Rascia, she had received many comments about the uncanny resemblance between herself and Katerina. It would not do for someone here to look too closely. Not yet.

       My deception must not be discovered, the transition must happen smoothly, Martina’s welfare could be at stake.

      Theodora reached for her daughter. ‘Let me hold her.’

      ‘Are you sure, my lady?’ Sophia tipped her head at the watchful Varangian and the army of servants and slaves. ‘There are many eyes here.’

      ‘Sophia!’ As Theodora took her child, a measure of peace settled over her. Martina gurgled. A chubby hand reached out, pushed Theodora’s veil aside and reached for an earring. Theodora’s heart squeezed. ‘She has her father’s eyes,’ she murmured. ‘Thank heaven we found a suitable wet-nurse—I like Jelena.’

      Sophia nodded.

      Theodora felt stinging at the back of her eyes. She had enjoyed feeding Martina herself, a sentiment that would surely shock most ladies in the Great Palace, Princesses did not usually feed their babies. But since she had been sent to join the barbarians in Rascia, it would seem she had become something of a barbarian herself. It had been more painful than she cared to admit, handing Martina over to the wet-nurse. It had taken time. Weaning Martina had been as painful physically as it had been emotionally. Theodora’s breasts had hurt, her heart had ached. The sacrifice had been necessary though, no one at Court must suspect that she had borne a child.

      Setting her jaw, she stared out of the window, out past the Palace Harbour to the Sea of Marmara. The sea was as grey as the sky. Ships were sailing past the promontory—merchantmen, dromons, rowing boats. Seagulls were circling a fishing boat; she could hear their thin mewing.

      ‘The lions and oxen are still there,’ Sophia said. ‘I had forgotten about them.’

      ‘Hmm?’

      ‘The statues on the Imperial quays. I had forgotten how impressive they are, like sentinels.’

      ‘It СКАЧАТЬ