Tailtiu was with Claud during the day, hanging off his billowing sleeve when she had nothing better to do. A better scribe than a cook.
She was with him at night, too, sitting on the edge of his bed until she left for hers. All of his insistence that she wasn't a bother felt real. Priests didn't lie, but if they could, she didn't think he would. Well controlled and never flustered from the topmost hair down to his shoes. Never a stray hair, unless she wasn't looking; as they were, Tailtiu looked more than she needed, an easy sight.