Either she had to enter now or she’d be caught listening in on her father and Vortigern. Putting on her cheeriest face, she knocked on the door with the hand holding the crock of honey. A pause. “Come in,” her father called. She opened the door and found the two men staring at her. “Well … Natalenya,” her father said. “I expected your mother.” “She had to help Dyslan with his mishap.” “I see you have brought the Mulsum. Here, let me get my celebratory goblets.” Her father went to a cabinet at the back of the room, unlocked it with a small key, and opened the left door. Reaching to the back, he pulled out two very small goblets of cast gold, each with intricate scenes of Roman battles. Her father always brought out this pair when serving company. Only when drinking alone would he take one of the larger goblets from the other side of the cabinet. He locked the doors again and made sure they were secure. Satisfied, he turned and walked back, carrying the goblets. He smiled at her.
