Amanda McCabe - Christmas At The Tudor Court - The Queen's Christmas Summons / The Warrior's Winter Bride

And this carved angel was mute. Alys tucked her into the hidden pocket of her skirt and, as she did so, something fell from the tip of its carved wing and fell with a clink to the floor. A beam of moonlight gleamed on it.

Alys stooped to pick it up. It was the gold ring she had seen so often on Juan’s finger. Now, up close, she saw the band was worn with use. There was something etched on its face, but she could not make it out in the shadows.

‘Where is he?’ she whispered as she turned the ring over on her palm. Who was he, really? Such desperate longings rose up in her to know, yet she feared she never would now. He was gone and whatever he was to her was gone with him.

She slid the ring on to her finger, and ran to the door as if she could look hard enough to find him again. Yet she knew she would not see him, no matter how far she ran or how hard she looked. He was gone, vanished from her life as quickly as he had appeared. That glimpse of excitement and adventure she had with him, the fire of his kiss, the feeling of not being alone at last—it was gone.

She had known such a moment would soon come. He could not stay hidden here at the abbey for ever. Yet losing him so quickly hurt far more than she would have expected. It was like an arrow through her chest, almost a physical pain.

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