And with this ominous remark, they adjourned, and Mionet wearily allowed Davi to boost her onto Brambles. It had been such an endless, weary day, she barely felt the cold, and if someone had offered her transport to Segoile, she would have been tempted to fall at their feet weeping.
But she did not let that thought show even in her eyes. She was here, she had just endured one of the longest days of her life, and she was going to make a bosom friend of Princess Ophele, Duchess of Andelin,if it killed them both.
“You don’t have to come out again tomorrow, Lady Verr,” said Duchess Andelin when they had finally returned to the manor. With most of the builders and all of the servants sick, the manor was cold, dark, and silent, their breaths puffing white even inside.
“Nonsense,” said Mionet, trying to sound cheerful. The day had been grueling, but it was not a total loss. She had waited a long time to take this next step forward, to gauge the momentproperly, and she thought the time was right. “My place is at your side, my lady. And I hope you will call me Mionet.”
And then she sneezed.
***
It was colder upstairs than it was outside.
“Justenin! What are you doing here?!” Ophele cried, appalled when she climbed the stairs and found Remin’s faithful knight outside the door of the bedchamber, clutching his sword and shivering violently. “Oh, you look dreadful! Davi, help me—”
“I am q-quite all r-right, my lady,” Justenin said through his teeth, but allowed himself to be steered toward the solar. His face was bloodless.
“I’ll make up a fire,” said Davi, trying to sound as if he wasn’t just as miserable. “Takes more’n this to freeze the Coldest Knight, eh?”
“Here, sit down,” Ophele ordered, bundling Juste up in her own pink lap blanket. There was the trouble: the window overlooking the balcony had been left open, with a bitter breeze whistling through andiciclesdangling off the sill. “Oh, how could they! Who was working outside today? Sousten would have their backsides, if he weren’t so sick—”
Fruitlessly, she yanked at the window, thinking of all Davi’s worst curses. It had frozen in place, so it must have been open for some time. Why would anyone open it in the first place?
“Here, let me, my lady,” said Davi, reaching over her head to slam the window shut. And then he paused, eye narrowing as he peered out into the swirling snow. “Why don’t you look in on His Grace?” he suggested, turning the lock on the window. “I’ll thaw Juste and then fetch supper directly.”
“Warm yourself up before you go,” Ophele warned.
She did not see the look the two men exchanged behind her, or the flick of Davi’s fingers against a broken lock.
It was warmer in the bedchamber, at least. The fire was still roaring, and there was a basin of water and a chair on Remin’s side of the bed. Genon had told her repeatedly to let Remin sleep, but even as she tiptoed nearer, the huge figure in the bed stirred.
“Wife?”
“Yes,” she said at once, hastening over and pulling her scarf back up over her nose and mouth. “I just got home. Oh, dear, you look wretched, Remin.”
“Hands are cold.” He turned his face away as she touched him, his brow knotting. His eyes were slits, and the darkness burned with fever. “Are you…well, wife?”
“Yes. I don’t get sick,” she assured him. “And we’re looking after everyone, and Tounot and Auber and Jinmin have been marvelous, and Genon has made medicine for you, you’ll have more with supper.”
“Mmm.” His fingers wrapped around hers. “Good.”
“Would you like some porridge?” Lightly, she brushed his face with her other hand, hoping the cool would do him good. His fever really was frightening.
“No…” he sighed, and then he was asleep again, his hand gripping hers, and she was so shamefully tempted to try to shake him awake.
Ophele had thought of dozens of questions on the ride home. There was so much she wanted to ask, so many things she didn’t know, and her ignorance was hollowing her belly like a rotten tree. Things she knew she did not know, and worse, the things she didn’tknowshe didn’t know, invisible hazards she couldn’t avoid because she didn’t know they were there.
Remin would know what to do. He was so strong and so sure of everything, and without him she felt as if the very roof over her head had been torn away.
And she wanted to tell him about Dancer, and how they had surveyed the town, and how Auber had apparently become the mayor of the North Gate Cottages while no one was looking, because he knew every single person who lived there. Including his sweetheart Isilde, who had an adorable little boy, and that was such a delicious bit of gossip that she had actually squealed out loud as soon as she was safely down the lane, to Davi’s amusement. But wouldn’t it be lovely if they got married and had babies?
She would tell Remin about it when he was better. Rinsing the cloth beside the bed, she laid it on his forehead, washed her hands, and then sat by the fire with her writing things, basking in the heat like a cat.
She had made huge lists that afternoon, but Tounot and Auber had taken them, so Ophele put the kettle on and set about reproducing them, trying to remember every single word that had been spoken in the tavern. Her memory for things she heard was not as good as for things she read, but she thought she had most of it, and she lost herself in the work until she heard a tapping on the door.
‘’My lady.” Davi’s muffled voice sounded perfectly miserable. “Supper’s on the table. Mind that lock on the window and make sure the guards check it tonight. We’ll have a word about it with Master Didion.”
“We certainly will,” Ophele said grimly, wiping her hands on her writing apron and rising.
