Ophele nodded, though her eyes shifted to her plate. Of course, Leonin and Davi must be told the truth as well; she had already skirted very near it with them. But it was one thing to bravely declare to Remin that she did not want to lie and another to actually face all the people she had deceived.
“By this time next week, no one will think anything of it, wife.” Under the table, Remin’s big foot nudged hers. “Endure it, and you’ll see.”
“Indeed,” Justenin agreed. “You may be surprised at the general lack of surprise, my lady. I have already spoken to Tounot—”
Justenin had been very busy. Ophele nibbled at her toast as she listened to what would be the fourth or fifth major upheaval of her life this year. He proposed that she spend her mornings at the manor, learning etiquette, deportment, feminine courtesies, and a host of other social skills with Lady Verr. Sir Leonin and Sir Tounot would teach her other courtly arts. Master Didion could be invited to share his knowledge of the capital, which went back nearly forty years. Though he had indulged in frequent minor scandals, he was notoriously skilled at avoiding major ones.
Her afternoons would be spent in the office and filled with more practical lessons: mathematics, grammar, oratory, and all the other subjects she ought to have learned as a child. There was no way she could make up for all of them in four months, but Justenin explained which he thought were most crucial and Ophele nodded along, relieved tofinallyhave a teacher. The only thing that bothered her was that it meant neglecting everything else.
“But there will be no time for Jacot’s lessons,” she said, looking at the schedule he had sketched out for her. “Or Elodie, or helping in the office, or with the devils—”
“The boy has learned enough to take his lessons with the rest of the pages,” Remin replied. “How long have you been teaching him?”
“Four months.” It was surprising to realize it had been so long.
“Juste, test him and let him move on if he’s ready,” he said firmly. “Nothing good will come of playing favorites among the pages and squires, wife. And how you manage your pagegirl is your business, so long as she isn’t a nuisance.”
She was foolishly pleased that Remin would consider even these small matters. Ophele poured him a fresh cup of tea.
“It is my hope that your work might supplement your lessons,” Justenin continued. “If you would like to continue it.”
“Oh, I would,” she said fervently. “I have learned so much from helping Edemir.”
“He was counting on you to assist in his absence,” Justenin agreed. “Bendir will be taking over while he’s away.”
“While he’s away?” she echoed, surprised.
“Edemir will handle some matters for us over the winter,” Remin replied evenly, as if this could be anything but an ominous sign. Edemir could not be easily spared.
“I am sure…he will,” she said, but her eyes moved from Justenin to Remin, watchful. Neither man showed any sign of worry, but Remin and his knights never did anything without reason.
Lady Verr herself was evidence of that, when she arrived a few minutes later. She betrayed no surprise as Justenin launched into the list of subjects Ophele must learn, his quill scribbling rapidly as they constructed a curriculum. The conversation was necessarily limited to the two of them; neither Remin nor Ophele was qualified to have an opinion, but Remin’s face darkened as he listened to all of the things Ophele must learn to do, his black eyes resting on Lady Verr like two iron weights.
“To be clear,” he said, when Justenin was done, “My objective is for Her Grace to learn what is necessary to endure a season in Segoile without scandal or undue anxiety. Nothing more. This is a coat of paint we will scrape off when we come home. I do not value the customs of the capital and do not wish to see them here.”
It was one of the rudest things Ophele had ever heard him say. She bit her lip, looking anxiously at Lady Verr.
“I understand perfectly, Your Grace,” the lady answered, with no sign of offense.
“Good.” Remin set down his napkin. “Come and see me off, wife. I’ll be sending Leonin and Davi up to you directly. Lady Verr, your aid is appreciated.”
“You are very hard on her,” Ophele said as soon as they were in the bedchamber, and Remin sat down to swap his house shoes for boots.
“I hope it is undeserved,” he said bluntly. “I will beg pardon, if so. But until we can be sure, be wary of her. You have a good deal of sense; if something doesn’t seem right, ask Leonin or ask me. Leonin has sisters, he should have some notionof what a noblewoman looks like. He will be supervising your morning lessons. If you aren’t with me, your guards will be with you, from now on.”
“All right,” she said, troubled. “Remin—you aren’t bothered that they will all know? I know I said I didn’t want to lie, but I am supposed to be your duchess and I don’t want them to think—”
“Of course, it bothers me.” Catching her hands, he drew her to stand before him. “Youaremy duchess and my wife, and I don’t want you to change. I would much rather have my duchess questioning my spending habits or dissecting devil quills with Juste. Yes, I heard about that,” he added, as she let out a startled laugh. “Do you know how proud I would be to tell those fools in Segoile about it? But either they wouldn’t care, or they would mock you for it.”
“It will only be a coat of paint,” she promised him, going into his arms. She felt him sigh as he held her. “I will learn it and then forget it as fast as I can.”
“Don’t be embarrassed that you don’t know foolish things,” he told her. “Be proud of the things you do know.”
It pleased her so much to hear it. But it wasn’t easy to go back to the solar and face Lady Verr, who was sitting at the table reading Justenin’s curriculum. Whatever Remin might say, Ophele could not look at the lady without envy. It was as if Lady Verr was conscious of even the angle of the morning sun through the windows and knew how to present herself to best advantage, the light sparking off the red highlights in her hair, so graceful, she looked like a portrait.
“Lady Verr.” Ophele headed straight for the teapot. She felt the need to fortify herself. “I am sorry for His Grace’s sharpness. I hope it did not hurt your feelings. He is unhappy at the thought of going to the capital. It is very…disruptive.”
She had stood in the hallway for two whole minutes, composing this apology.
