Caedmon FitzRam was more than distraught. Four years ago it had been a source of pride for his family when their fifteen year old daughter, Blythe, had been chosen to go to King Henry’s court as a lady-in-waiting to Princess Adelaide. Now Blythe had been commanded by the Princess to accompany her to Germany where she was to wed the Holy Roman Emperor. Caedmon had made the long journey south to Court and tried every diplomatic move he could think of to extricate his reluctant daughter from the obligation, but the spoiled Adelaide was having none of it. “I’m afraid, FitzRam, my little girl has dug in her heels,” Henry had drawled. “She insists Lady Blythe attend her in Mainz.” Blythe hadn’t blamed her father, but her unsuccessful determination not to cry at their farewell had made his gut clench. He might never see her again as a result of this dreaded journey. He’d failed her. Caedmon imparted this bitter news to his wife as she welcomed him home. He enfolded her in his cloak in the bailey of their manor to protect her from the biting east wind sweeping across the moorland on its journey from the North Sea.
