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into the flickering flames, and she ruminated that Balan had a lovely laugh. And kind eyes. And she wished he'd kissed her in the gardens so she would know if his kisses were as exciting in real life as they had been in her dreams.
Frowning, she rolled onto her back and pondered the matter of the rotten meat. Did it mean she shouldn't marry him? She wished she knew. Murie would have thought that Mydrede would have known, but had she, Cecily would have mentioned the answer one way or another, so she supposed she didn't. Becker would know, however, She reminded herself of that, and determined once again to speak to Becker and the king first thing in the morning.
Chapter Six
"Now ..." King Edward turned to Murie with a raised eyebrow as his receiving room emptied out. "What was so urgent that you needed to speak to me alone?"
Murie flushed. She'd found it almost impossible to sleep last night, her mind flittering between thoughts of Balan and worries as to what her dream truly meant. Was he to be her husband? Or was he not? She'd debated and fretted over the issue back and forth until finally the dawn had begun to break. Murie had immediately tossed the linens and furs aside and leapt from bed. She'd been dressed and gone from her room ere Cecily even arrived ... only to find she was up and about far too early, and the king had not yet even left his bed.
Irritated that everyone else appeared to have no problem sleeping, Murie had taken herself off to the gardens to sit in the bower and think on Balan some more. She'd replayed the kiss from her dream over and over in her mind, and spent more time there than she'd intended. By the time she made her way back into the king's receiving room, it was already full of others awaiting their turn to see him. Murie had been vexed when she'd spoken to Robert, who was in charge of who entered next. Apparently, fearing the tears and fits that the disgruntled man read on her face, he had promised to get her in as quickly as was possible, to arrange for her to have a private audience.
"Murie?" Edward prompted when she did not speak. She grimaced at his impatience, understanding it when he had so many to see, but at a loss as to where to start this conversation. Her gaze slid to Becker. She'd been relieved to find the aide with the king. He usually was, but there were times he was off doing something for his sire and was not nearby. Fortunately, such was not the case today.
"Murie?" King Edward repeated, his voice gone hard, indicating that his patience was at an end.
She opened her mouth and blurted, "Sire, have you heard about the ritual to find a husband on St. Agnes Eve?"
"Ahhhh." He nodded with sudden understanding, then said, "I had heard that Lady Aldous talked you into testing the superstition."
"Aye." She shifted uncomfortably under his amusement. He arched an eyebrow. "Did you dream of anyone?"
"Aye," she admitted, blushing at the memory of the dream.
"Really?" He straightened up with surprise. "I was told you had not."
Murie grimaced. Word spread through court faster than a squirrel could dart through. That was something else she would not miss once she married and left.
"Only Lady Reynard and my maid know I did dream of someone," she confessed. "I did not wish the whole court to know I had, and who it was."
"Ah." He nodded. "That was perhaps wise." Murie nodded and glanced at her hands.
"Who was it? Someone you have known and thought handsome for a long time?" he asked indulgently.
Murie glanced at him, startled by the suggestion. "Nay. In truth, I had never seen the man before I dreamed him. I had no idea who he was."
His eyes widened. "Really?"
"Aye," she answered, then got to the point. "Do you know the proper tale, sire?"
He sat back, expression confused. "What tale?"
"About St. Agnes," she explained patiently. "On St. Agnes Eve, Malculinus said that if you either fasted all day or ate rotten meat, you would dream of the man meant to be your husband. But yesterday morn, Lauda said someone told her that if you fasted the man you dreamt of would be your husband, but if you ate rotten meat the man you dreamt of was someone you definitely should not marry, and I was hoping you could