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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 is certainly a change from Rascia,’ Theodora said, wistfully. She caught a flutter of gold, a couple of galleys were flying the Imperial standard. The same flag was flying on the towers on either side of the entrance to the Palace Harbour and the double-headed eagle was plainly visible on both of them. There was no doubt of it, she was home. She sighed and wished she did not feel so torn. The coup had changed everything.
What will I say if I am summoned to meet Emperor Alexios? It was one thing to have planned to deceive a weak and ageing Emperor, but Emperor Alexios was strong and in his prime. Intelligent. God save me.
Sophia was fingering the delicate purple curtains. ‘I have never seen such hangings, my lady, all silk. Everything in your apartment is silk, silk and marble.’
‘This apartment is not mine,’ Theodora reminded her quietly. ‘Not until I have reclaimed my identity.’
She risked another look at the Varangian by the doors. He had stood at his post like a rock since their arrival. His gaze was alert. Too alert. Several ladies had returned with her to the Palace, but it was she whom he was focused on. He has noted the resemblance between me and Katerina. ‘That man knows exactly where Katerina and Anna are, and I would swear he knows who I am, too. Why will he not answer our questions?’ Anxiety clawed her insides. ‘Do you think they are safe and well? Do you think they have been found out? Arrested?’
‘Sweet Mary, I hope not.’
‘Then where are they? I took pains to tell them to be discreet until we arrived. I shall never forgive myself if they have come to harm, but I had to wean Martina on to the wet-nurse, I had to—’ she broke off as the guard’s gaze never wavered.
Enclosing Martina’s tiny hand in hers, Theodora pulled her veil across her face and presented the Varangian with her back. She was on the point of handing Martina back to Sophia when there was a disturbance at the entrance.
The shining double doors were flung wide. The guard stood firmly in the centre, feet braced as he challenged someone out on the landing.
‘I am sorry, General,’ the Varangian said. ‘You may not enter these chambers—they are assigned to Princess Theodora.’
‘I am aware of that.’ The newcomer’s voice was cultured. ‘Why do you think I have been sending messages here these past few days?’
Theodora froze. She could not see the man on the landing clearly—the doorframe blocked full view of him—but she caught the impression of height. He sounded confident, even arrogant. A jewelled sword-hilt flashed, a gold ring gleamed on a strong, well-shaped hand. Oh, no! If this man was permitted to bear arms in the Palace, he must be trusted indeed. And for him to have been sending messages to the Princess’s apartment, he must be …
‘Duke Nikolaos,’ Sophia hissed. ‘It must be your general.’
Theodora’s heart started to race. If it was Duke Nikolaos, he was breaking with the conventions by coming in person to an apartment in the women’s quarters. She was not prepared to meet him. And yet … curiosity flared into being, undeniable curiosity … What did he look like? If she were careful …
Martina firmly in her arms, Theodora went to the door. It might not be Duke Nikolaos, she told herself, it might be that this man was one in a long line of courtiers who had come to pay his respects to the Princess. Katerina could simply be hiding away because she had been overwhelmed by the part she had been asked to play.
The man was tall and broad-shouldered. He had strong features and a Roman nose that would not have looked out of place on an ancient coin. His hair was thick and dark and in need of a trim. Theodora received the impression of much energy, energy that was barely contained. He had a faintly disreputable air, despite the patrician profile. His jaw was square and he had high cheekbones. Bold, dark eyes.
Noticing her looking at him, he smiled. His teeth were white and even, the smile practised.
Theodora’s belly lurched. She had time to notice a small scar beneath one of those dark eyes. She had time to notice how good-looking he was—if you found dark men who ought to have visited a barber a week since attractive. Which she, of course, did not. She had time to notice his clothes. They were those of a nobleman. His tunic was olive-coloured samite, a heavy silk, lavishly embroidered in silver and gold thread. Theodora’s gaze lingered on his sword. The grip was leather, the pommel was gold and set with an emerald of exceptional clarity. The sword looked like a dress sword, but the wear on the grip warned that this sword was more than mere ornament. This man might be dressed as a nobleman, but he was clearly more warrior than courtier.
Duke Nikolaos of Larissa, General of the Athanatoi Cavalry regiment—the famous Immortals—Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army. He had come to the very doors of her apartment. Captain Brand had been correct—the coup had brought the Duke racing back from Larissa in support of his fellow general, Alexios Komnenos, now Emperor.
Mouth dry, Theodora lifted her gaze. Dark eyes were fixed on her, the intensity of his gaze was vaguely unsettling. He inclined his head.
‘My lady?’ He glanced briefly at the baby in Theodora’s arms. ‘I take it you are one of the Princess’s ladies-in-waiting?’ His voice had a thread of steel running through it; it was the voice of a man who had the habit of command, of a man whose commands were always obeyed. And his mouth, now she looked at it, was held in a tight line. The veneer of politeness was thin in this man, his manner was verging on insolent.
Theodora ignored the frantic tug Sophia gave to her sleeve and her murmur of protest; she was not going to retreat. ‘Please take the child,’ she said, placing her daughter in Sophia’s arms. Secure in the knowledge that her veil was wrapped tightly about her and that only her eyes were showing, she turned back to the man in the doorway. ‘My lord? You are addressing me?’
The dark eyes sharpened, her tone had been too peremptory. A lady-in-waiting, as she was purporting to be, would never address a nobleman in such a tone. Certainly not before she found out who he was.
‘Yes, you.’ Shouldering the startled Varangian to one side, he occupied the doorway. ‘Where is your mistress?’ His tone moderated. ‘I have been trying to arrange an audience with the Princess for some days, but I have been told she is ailing. I trust she is not seriously ill?’
Theodora gave him a diplomatic smile. Cool, formal, and slightly distant. She would not let him annoy her. ‘Princess Theodora is, as I am sure you have already been told, not receiving guests today. I will, however, ensure your message reaches her. May I know to whom I am speaking?’
He bowed, and as he did so Theodora couldn’t help but notice how his mouth had eased as she answered him. His lips twitched. As though he were laughing at her! ‘I am Duke Nikolaos of Larissa and I am entirely at your disposal, my lady. And you are …?’
It was Duke Nikolaos. Inclining her head to hide the rush of emotion—this was the man her uncle had decreed she must marry—Theodora affected not to have heard his question. ‘Please come back tomorrow, my lord.’
He looked her up and down. Theodora was confident her veil was still in place, so why had she to resist the urge to adjust it? Thankfully, he wouldn’t see much of her. Just her eyes. With luck, he would assume he was speaking to one of the more modest of Theodora’s ladies. She stared at the toes of her slippers as though her life depended on it. She could not let him study her, lest when he met her as Princess Theodora, he realised that she was the same woman who had told him the Princess was not yet well enough to meet him.
This man is a commander, a general of the Imperial Army. I must say as little as possible. Duke Nikolaos had an air of ruthlessness about him, a man such as this would not hesitate to dispense with Palace protocols if it suited him. That he had come to the apartment in person proved it. This man is dangerous.
Theodora effaced herself, backing away, her gaze fixed on the marble floor tiles. For the first time in her life she was grateful for the rigid rules and conventions set up to protect unmarried women. Even as she prayed they would keep him at arm’s length, an odd thrill of uncertainty shivered through her. Protocols mean nothing to this man, he is a rule-breaker.
She retreated with Sophia into a room that opened out from the reception chamber and overheard him exchanging remarks with the guard. When she looked back, the great double doors were closed, Duke Nikolaos had gone.
Martina began to whimper. ‘It is time she was fed,’ Theodora said.
‘I will take her to Jelena,’ Sophia said. ‘One moment.’
Theodora found herself standing alone in the large bedchamber. It was so lavishly appointed that her jaw had dropped when she had first arrived at the apartment and seen it. A huge bed filled much of the space, liberally festooned with mulberry hangings. There was yard after yard of gold braid and fringing; there were silk mulberry sheets, gold and mulberry-coloured cushions. Marble-topped tables were set against the walls; there were golden basins and ewers; there, on the floor, was one of the travelling chests she had given to Katerina to help her play her part as Princess.
This is my bedchamber, or it will be when I am Princess Theodora Doukaina once more. Her heart missed its beat. If I marry Duke Nikolaos, that bed is where we will consummate our marriage.
The great bed was a world away from her bed at the Rascian Court. In Rascia, Theodora had had her own chamber, as befitted a Princess of the Empire, but her bed there had been very different to this one. The bed in which she and Peter had loved each other had been furnished with plain linens, not silks and damasks and …
The air shifted behind her, Sophia had returned.
‘Martina is feeding well, my lady, she … Good Heavens,’ Sophia said faintly, looking at the bed.
‘Quite.’
‘What are you going to do?’
Theodora glanced at the door and lowered her voice. ‘First, I shall reclaim my identity. I shall make that Varangian tell us where Katerina and Anna have gone. And then I shall once again be Princess Theodora Doukaina.’
‘Will you marry him?’
Theodora stared at the mulberry-draped bed in the centre of the chamber and bit her lip. Marry that handsome, ruthless-looking stranger? ‘Only if I have to.’
Chapter Three
Sophia moved so she had clear sight of the apartment entrance, anxiety clouding her expression. ‘Oh, dear, Duke Nikolaos did seem rather … rather …’
Overpowering?’
Sophia nodded. ‘Perhaps you should seek an audience with the Emperor, my lady, he may look kindly on a request to set the arrangement aside.’
‘I wish I had your confidence. Emperor Alexios is a soldier, he is more likely to expect blind obedience. Oh, Lord, of all the times for there to have been a coup, this is surely the worst! The last thing I need is a strong emperor.’ Theodora jerked her head in the direction of the Varangian posted at the entrance. ‘And I had forgotten the extent to which women here are cloistered. Life here is going to be somewhat different from life in Rascia. Just look at that man. Is he there for our benefit, or is he spying on us?’
‘Married women have more freedom than unmarried ones, Princess.’
Theodora shot her lady-in-waiting a sharp look. ‘You think I should marry the Duke.’
Sophia lifted her shoulders. ‘It is hard to tell on a first meeting, but Duke Nikolaos did not strike me as a … conventional man. Such a man would not care for the opinions of others …’
‘You are saying he would let me go my own way?’
‘I do not know. Perhaps.’ Another shrug. ‘However, if you do marry him, he will soon discover you are not … not as innocent as he believes.’
Theodora sighed. ‘Were I to marry him, I would simply have to pretend.’
‘You would act the virgin?’
‘I shall be as pure as the driven snow.’
‘He would know,’ Sophia said, firmly. ‘A man like that would surely know.’
‘I disagree. He’s a general, a warrior … he didn’t strike me as being particularly … subtle. Surely I can convince him I am innocent?’
‘If you say so, my lady.’
Giving Sophia a curt nod—her doubts were irritating—Theodora strode back into the reception chamber. ‘Guard!’
The Varangian looked warily at her. ‘My lady?’
‘I have questions and this time you will give me the truth. When we arrived, you told us that the Princess was visiting friends—is that not so?’ The guard flushed dark red and opened his mouth, but Theodora swept on. ‘You also told Duke Nikolaos the Princess was sick. Why? Where is she?’ When the guard would not meet her gaze, but stared woodenly at the wall behind her, she went to stand directly in front of him. ‘Look me in the eye, when I am speaking to you. The Princess is not sick, nor is she out visiting friends. Where is she?’
The guard’s throat worked.
It struck Theodora that the Varangian was young to be in such a position of such responsibility, she softened her voice. ‘Do not be afraid. It is my belief you are acting on orders. It is also my belief that you know the whereabouts of the Princess.’ Her foot tapped. ‘You will tell me. This instant.’
The young man stared at her and gave a slight nod. With a lurch Theodora realised that he had been studying her while he made up his mind about her. He realises I am the Princess.
‘Very well, my lady. If you wish, I can send her a message. I am sure she will join you shortly.’
Theodora let her breath out in a rush. ‘Thank you. Please send the message at once.’
The young Varangian was as good as his word. Scarcely an hour later, when Theodora was in the bedchamber supervising the unpacking of her belongings with Sophia, someone scratched on the door.
‘Enter.’
Katerina burst into the room. She was swathed in shawls and silk veils and escorted by a man wearing the uniform of a Varangian officer. The officer followed her right into the bedchamber and scowled at Theodora.
Theodora’s heart sank, she knew this man. He was Ashfirth Saxon, Commander of the Varangian Guard. She had last seen him in Dyrrachion on the outskirts of the Empire.
Theodora had never actually spoken to the Commander, because it had been in Dyrrachion that she and Katerina had switched places. They had deceived him into thinking that he was escorting the Princess back to the Palace, whereas in truth he had been escorting Katerina.
Does the Commander know that rather than escorting me, he was duped into escorting my maidservant? Is that why he is looking so coldly at me?
‘My lady!’ Katerina dropped to her knees and bowed her head, several veils slithered to the floor. ‘It is so good to see you! Oh, my lady—’
Afraid that Katerina might mention Martina, Theodora held up her hand. ‘A moment, Katerina, we are not alone.’
Commander Ashfirth gazed at her with cool, assessing eyes and stepped fully into the bedchamber. Reaching behind him, he shut the door with a snap.
Theodora stiffened. ‘What do you think you are doing?’
‘My lady, you are the Princess?’ the Commander demanded, voice curt. Holy Virgin, he knew about the deception practised upon him.
