The lump mumbled something that sounded likeyes, please.
She sprawled on the mattress just as he had left her last night, too worn out even to turn on her side, and Remin felt a little guilty as he sat beside her. Her hair was an explosive tangle around her head and red and purple blotches marched the length of both arms. It made him feel foolish, in the light of day, but the way the lace had looked against her skin, he had just wanted tobiteher…
“I’ll bring it to you,” he said, kissing the top of her head. He felt excellent, himself. A bit sore, but pleasantly satiated in the most wonderful way, and he couldn’t help bending down to whisper, “do you think you would want to get another nightgown like that?”
One eye opened and rolled up to his face, round with alarm.
“Go back to sleep,” he said, pulling the blankets over her shoulders, and went to see if there was any more of Genon’s tonic about. Maybe he had overdone it a little.
Looking at her over breakfast, it was hard to imagine a more harmless creature in the world. Ophele looked absolutely tiny in their massive bed, a slender woman with love-bites marking her creamy skin. Even though he had let her sleep for another hour before he woke her for breakfast, she was nodding over her porridge, and at length Remin took the bowl away, poured some of Genon’s tonic down her throat, and went to tell Lady Verr to let her sleep for a few more hours.
“Her Grace isn’t ill, I hope?” Lady Verr asked, looking concerned.
“No. Just…tired,” Remin replied vaguely, and departed with her gray eyes reproaching him for an utter beast.
Harmless. That was what Juste said Ophele must be. And if this was all they saw of her in Segoile, the vulnerable waif with eyes that wrung his heart, then Remin thought Juste was likely right; Ophele would be a powerful weapon. Even the cynical people of Segoile would never dream of the ferocious intellect working behind those eyes.
Half the time, he forgot it himself.
“Will Jinmin be back in time for our supper?” Ophele wanted to know that night, busy with the plans for the small banquet with his knights. It was the first formal occasion that he had left entirely in her hands.
“I shouldn’t think so,” Remin replied regretfully. And then something prodded him to ask, “What do you think Jinmin might be doing, wife?”
Even though they were alone in their bedchamber and the door was closed, she started and looked around reflexively, as if someone might be listening.
“I…well, you said he was working on building ports downriver,” she said slowly. “I guess…it doesn’t seem like work you would assign to him. I think he’s working on defenses on the river. In case there’s trouble?”
It was closer to the truth than he had expected. She would never dream that her husband was planning to make war on the Empire, and Remin hoped it would stay that way. He kissed her forehead.
“Why do you think that?” he asked tenderly, and listened as she laid out her observations for him, marveling at how much she saw and thought. He knew she needed a real teacher, but listening to her talk underscored exactly how much.
There would be other opportunities to visit the Tower. Both Master Forgess and Brother Oleare were willing to petition them on Ophele’s behalf, to send for someone to evaluate her. But inwardly, Remin admitted he wanted to see her acknowledged for her own sake. He wanted the Tower to fawn over her.Hedidn’t like the idea of presenting her to Segoile as the Exile Princess, an object of pity and curiosity. He wanted all of them to know how extraordinary she was.
And he wanted to rub her father’s face in it.
“The trouble isn’t what she knows or doesn’t know,” Juste said when Remin broached the subject in the stables the following evening. “The trouble is concealing it. Her Grace misses very little, when she is paying attention. But she is easily distracted and a very poor liar.”
“Then we can do it last,” Remin replied stubbornly. “Once our business in the capital is finished, they can make of her whatever they like.”
“We won’t be going back to the capital for a while anyway,” Miche agreed, moving unobtrusively to support Juste as he dismounted. It was tricky with one arm.
The three men were accustomed to riding home together at the end of the day, and as warhorses would not accept handling from anyone but their masters, it gave them a few minutes for conversation while they were unsaddling and grooming the beasts. Fetching a hoof pick, Remin nudged Lancer’s inquiring nose out of the way and bent to tend his hooves.
“I could go with her for the examination, I suppose,” Juste said thoughtfully. “Normally it is a private interview, but they will make an exception for the Exile Princess. I will write a few letters tonight.”
“You mean you will dictate them,” Miche corrected, peering over his horse’s shoulder. Blond, gallant Miche had a white horse, because of course he did. “I saw the stack of orders you sent off this morning. You need to save your arm for better things than correspondence, Juste.”
“If I chose a secretary, it would not be you,” Juste retorted.
“I would want me for a secretary,” Miche replied seriously. “Perhaps that is my destiny. Somewhere in the capital is a rich widow crying out for a man of many talents.”
“Just the one widow?” Remin asked dryly. “I’ll take whatever orders you can send my way, Juste.”
Miche already had too much to do. Because he never laid claim to any large patch of Tresingale’s operations, he always ended up with dozens of little ones, and never uttered a word of complaint, even when he really ought to. Tounot and Auber had both reported finding him asleep in strange places, a warning sign that he was stretched too thin.
“I’ll make sure he does.” Miche waved a hand before Remin could argue. “I’m fine, Rem. Don’t worry about me.”
Remin shot Juste a look nonetheless as they parted, a silent command to see exactly how out of control Miche’s workload had gotten. All of them were overburdened. With Edemir, Bram, and Jinmin away on their errands and over seven hundred extra people in town, there was enough work for a dozen Knights of the Brede. But there was no help for it.
