“He was coughing.” Ordinarily, Ophele would have hesitated to interfere in what was strictly Remin’s business as the Duke of Andelin, but she and Miche had conspired in secret to take care of Remin before. “And he said there’s sickness about…”
“We’d have to tie him up to keep him home,” Miche replied, with an air of experience. “You might not have noticed yet, my lady, but His Grace can be remarkably pigheaded.”
“But is there something I should do? I don’t know much about sickness,” she confessed. “There are books about such things, aren’t there?”
“I should certainly hope so, when I went to the trouble of hauling an entire library here,” Miche laughed, and laid an affectionate hand on her head. “Genon always prescribes tea with honey for a cough. I’ll keep an eye on Rem today, and have Juste bring up some honey with supper. How’s that?”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully. She meant to go through the books herself, all the same. Perhaps Genon would have some to lend. “You will take care of yourself, too, won’t you? When are you leaving tomorrow?”
“First light, my lady. Don’t worry about me, I’m never one to suffer in silence,” he assured her, and quickly lifted his hand from her head as the door opened in the next cottage. “Lady Verr.”
“Sir knight,” Lady Verr replied coolly. “You are in dishabille.”
“Frequently,” he agreed, turning his attention back to Ophele. “I’ll keep an eye on him today. After I’m decentlyhabilled, eh?”
He directed a cheeky grin at Lady Verr, bowed, and shut his door.
“It is inappropriate for a gentleman to appear before a lady in his shirt,” Lady Verr explained to Ophele, with a rather frosty look at the door. “I beg your pardon for overhearing, but did you say His Grace is ill?”
“Yes, a cough, just like Sim,” Ophele fretted, falling into step beside the taller lady as they moved back toward the house.
“Tea with honey will help, as will thyme and peppermint,” Lady Verr said unexpectedly. “Though sometimes it is better to let them cough. It depends on the sort of cough it is.”
“Oh yes, Duchess Ereguil said that you had some knowledge of healing,” Ophele remembered. “There are different sorts of cough?”
“Yes, my lady.” Lady Verr looked rather sorry for bringing it up, but explained the phlegm-y particulars on the way back to the solar, and then shifted the discussion to the House of Berebet, notoriously phlegmatic themselves. But Ophele was pondering her own duties, and as important as it was to learn about these faraway people—and to learn to dance for them, too,when Leonin and Davi appeared some hours later—she thought there were people nearer at hand to whom she was responsible. The Duchess of Andelin should know what to do, if her people were sick.
Davi and Leonin did not agree.
“My lady, I don’t think His Grace will like it,” Davi protested as she stepped out into the bitter cold. “This is dangerous cold. People lose fingers in weather like this.”
“I have gloves,” Ophele said stubbornly, though the first slice of wind made her eyes water. She had gloves, and a scarf, and was wearing so many layers she could scarcely move, but she had never imagined it couldbeso cold.
She would not be out in it long. With a clear day, the builders had descended on the hilltop in swarms and trampled paths in the wide field between the main house and the great husk of the library. Without them, the snow would have been up to her waist.
Inside the huge structure, there were a number of skeletal fireplaces that the men were constantly stoking, so the carpenters’ hands would be warm enough to work. It was something, to see the entire library of Aldeburke crated up all around them. Ophele was still discovering whole categories of objects that Miche had stolen; only yesterday someone had cracked open a crate to find an avalanche of toys, and she had very nearly cried when Master Didion presented her with the long-lost Sir Bunkin, her stuffed rabbit, dressed in cloth armor and ready to defend his lady.
The toys were easier to organize than the thousands of books. Ophele was sure there were books on healing, herbs, anatomy, and similar subjectssomewhere,but the crates were taller than she was.
“You can help me look,” she told Leonin, when he again ventured the opinion that Remin would not like her to be out inthe cold. It was tempting to remark that Remin was out in the coldwitha cold, but she would not criticize her husband before others. “Books on medicine and illness.”
They only managed to find one before Ophele was forced to concede that she liked her fingers and wanted to keep them. And Remin had been out in this all day yesterday and for who knew how long today! Her eyes narrowed when he came home that night, nearly bloodless with cold.
“J-just let me warm up a b-bit,” he said through chattering teeth, trying to sound reassuring as he went to shiver violently by the fire.
“In a hot bath,” she ordered, appalled, pressing a cup of hot tea into his hands. “Drink this. Oh, Remin, you lookdreadful.”
“It’s not that bad,” he said thickly, trying to smile. “Don’t worry, wife.”
This seemed an outrageous lie. But again, Ophele hesitated, doubting herself. She had been readingHarmony of Elements,a healer’s guide to common ailments, but how was she to know whether Remin had taken in bad air or bad water? Was there such a thing as bad fire? He certainlyfelthot enough; even though he was shivering, his skin was hot and dry, and after a few token noises about kicking her out of the bath chamber, he just leaned forward and let her scrub his back with his elbows over his knees and his head hanging. He didn’t even have the energy to argue.
That was a bad sign. Was it too much fire, burning him out? The book said an imbalance of the four elements—fire, water, earth, and air—was the cause of illness, and it felt as if all the fire in the world was blazing under his skin.
“I don’t think you ought to come to supper,” she said, watching him grimace his way through a second cup of tea.“Wouldn’t you like to go to bed? I’ll make you some toast later, if you’re hungry.”
“All right,” he agreed, which was downright alarming. She had neveronceknown him to miss a meal. He was asleep almost the moment his head touched the pillow, and Ophele covered him in furs and blankets and built up the fire.
“His Grace will not be joining us,” she said as she came into the solar and shut the door, so as not to disturb him. Justenin was setting the table for supper. “Miche, you are well enough yourself, I hope? And the men that will go with you?”
