In the alcove, she discovered a pleasant surprise. There was a soft soap in a dish that smelled like patchouli. The bathing tub was small, and the water from the tap was cold. She had to either sit with her knees up or stand to sluice off.

However long she might end up trapped in Avalon, she would never get used to washing in cold water. She scrubbed thoroughly, washed her hair twice, and after haphazardly drying off, she dressed. When she had finger combed her hair as best she could, she pocketed her twenty-one worry stones.

Then she considered her small pile of coins and jewelry. She also had forgotten to give Morgan the diamond that had held his battle spell. What did people do here to keep their valuables safe? Should she wrap it up and take it with her, or should she hide it?

Surely an experienced thief would know all the hiding places better than she would.

She didn’t have time to dither over it. She tied the coins and jewels into a silk handkerchief someone had dropped into her performance hat and stuffed it into the pocket of her dress. Then she left, taking care to lock the door behind her.

And unlock it. And lock it again.

And again. And again. Agh!

Running down the stairs, she joined the waiting guard, who led the short way back to the castle and the waiting Queen.

They stopped by the music hall so she could collect the lute, and then the guard led her to the private garden with the travertine pillars and the fishpond.

Kallah met them at the doors. When she saw Sidonie, she exclaimed softly, “Where have you been?”

“I had to bathe, and I had nothing to wear!” Sidonie exclaimed back. “My clothes are being laundered. I need to go to the market to buy more.”

Kallah glanced down her figure. Her eyes widened with an expression of dismay, but she said grimly, “Well, it’s too late to do anything to rectify that now. When you buy more clothes, be sure not to choose anything quite so appealing.”

Right, Sid had forgotten. Wear only ugly clothes around the Queen. How old was Isabeau, several centuries going on seven?

Biting it back, she asked, “What do I do?”

“Slip over there, around the rosebushes.” Kallah pointed across the garden. “I’ve set out a wooden stool for you. Play soothing songs, don’t say anything, and don’t stop until I come for you. Understood?”

“Yes.” Sid started forward.

Kallah put a hand on her arm to stop her. “And Sid—don’t breathe a word to anyone about anything you might see or hear.” Kallah looked hard into her gaze, mouth set. “Not a word. You’ve experienced what can happen when her majesty takes offense, but you’ve not witnessed anything like what could happen if she considers herself betrayed.”

Sid’s heart leaped at the possibility of overhearing something they might be able to use. Dropping her gaze to hide her reaction, she muttered, “I understand.”

“Good.”

As soon as Kallah released her, she started forward. Around the outcropping of rosebushes, there was a small, private grassy area with a stool. Beyond that, there were more rosebushes. Through the bushes, she could see the outline of a low divan with pillows strewn over it.

It looked like the perfect spot for a private assignation, and for a moment, instinctively, she strained to make sense of what she was seeing on the other side of the rosebushes. Then the movement became clear, and she realized that was exactly what she was seeing. Two bodies lay entwined on the divan. Isabeau and a man. Loops of gold and white pearls threaded Isabeau’s hair. It was the only thing she was wearing.

Fierce heat washed over Sid’s face. Turning her back to the scene, she sat on the stool and began to play, striving hard to ignore the sounds behind her.

But try as she might, she couldn’t miss some details. The man wasn’t Modred; she was sure of that. He might be the male in the private sitting room from the night before, the one who had slipped a ring into her performance hat.

And Isabeau made love with the abandonment and lack of shame of a cat, crying out, sometimes swearing. Once her lover swore too, with such vicious surprise, Sid had to bite both lips to keep an unexpected bubble of laughter from popping out. She was pretty sure laughing at the Queen’s sex life was not a good career move.

Somehow she held it together until Kallah came across the garden and motioned to her, and her time was up for the day.

Escaping the confines of the castle felt as freeing as it had the first time. Instead of heading back to her room right away, she wandered down the street until she found the market.

There she bought a large canvas bag to carry her purchases in, and she spent a couple of hours picking out enough outfits so she would always have something clean to wear when she left her room, making sure to buy plainer clothes that were either black or some other dark color.

She also bought a smaller leather purse to carry essentials in, some toiletries, a comb, more scented soaps and a small vial of rose water, along with a pen, an inkwell, and ten sheets of parchment paper. Her final purchase was food and wine for that evening.

The sense of freedom she felt was so intoxicating she dawdled on the way back to the inn, enjoying the sights of the harbor and sea. Optimism came on the heels of her improved condition. They were going to find a way to break Morgan free of Isabeau’s control. She was certain of it.

Back in her room, she opened the balcony doors to the fresh breeze and took her pen, ink, and paper to the table outside to craft a letter to Vincent and Julie. It was harder to do than she had expected, and Robin had warned her the message needed to be a small one. After considering and discarding several ideas, she kept the note very short and wrote it as small as she could.

Don’t give up hope. I’m alive and okay.

I’ve been kidnapped. I’m no longer on Earth, but I’m working to find a way to get back home.

Be careful what you do. My captors could retaliate at what they see as aggression. I’ll be in touch again as soon as I can.

Love, Sid

After reading and rereading the note, she sighed and folded it as small as she could get it. The note covered all the relevant points and would have to do. When Robin came, she gave it to him.

He didn’t linger. They had said everything of importance earlier. Instead, he tucked the note into his pocket, shapeshifted, and the cat slipped away.

Morgan had said it would be four days, or maybe five, for the caravan to return. She realized she’d forgotten to ask Robin to bring back news. Oh well, there was nothing she could do to rectify that now.