It is only a small setback, I assured her, pushing a sense of conviction her way.
She couldn’t hear my words, of course, but the reassurance seemed to reach her. She sat up and her expression softened. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You’re right. I must keep trying.”
With determination, visibly pushing down her despair, Clem took off her dusty clothes and exchanged them for a loose blue dress. The reliable shoes, carefully brushed, went into the wardrobe. She didn’t bother to comb her chin-length hair, merely tucking it back behind her ears. She washed her hands and face in the porcelain basin that waited beside the sunflowers. Then, after wrapping the gray lump Cassandra had given her in a white handkerchief, she tucked it into one of the many little drawers of the desk.
From the kitchen came the sounds of Rosie filling the kettle and placing it on the stove, then the tinkling of porcelain cups and plates, the ring of silverware, the clatter of the tray. A moment later she brought the tray into the large space that was both living room and study.
Rosie’s unfinished work lay open on the dainty desk by the window, her chair pushed back. The lace curtains fluttered gently, brushing the clean pages. Before the unlit fire, two yellow armchairs waited in amicable companionship. Above the mantel hung a portrait of a man and a woman side by side. A blue rug and a low table of inlaid wood before the sofa completed the room; like all the other objects, these were spare andclean, chosen more for their quality than their elegance. Clem emerged from the bedroom, her face carefully composed into an expression of calm.
Rosie set down the tray on the inlaid table. Clem raised her eyebrows at a dome-shaped cake, decorated with powdered sugar and violets. “A cake?”
“Why not?” Rosie smiled. She cut two very big pieces. “Now,” she demanded, “tell me everything.”
“For the most part it was exactly as I’d expected. The classes advance very slowly. Honestly, I doubt I’d have learned much if I’d stayed.”
I was astonished at her words. But she spoke without a hint of arrogance; instead, she sounded sincerely disappointed. “I’ve seen Throckmorton twice. I don’t think going back to see him will be difficult. He seems very cut off from the university. I think I’ve been his only visitor in months.”
Rosie blinked and swallowed cake. “What’s he like?”
Clem shrugged. “Absurd. In a shabby, oblivious kind of way. But I’m grateful that he’s so completely infatuated with the armor. It gives us an effortless common ground.” She took a bite of cake, a sip of tea. “The surprise came today in Spirit Casting. Mead instructed his thew, Cassandra, to do a little demonstration, and she pointed to me and said I was a woman.”
Rosie made a noise of frustration. “How did she know?”
Clem, sat back, chewing. “She came to me afterward on the road, as I was leaving. Do you know who she arrived as?”
“Who?”
“Father. She looked exactly like Father in the little portrait that Mother kept.”
Rosie’s face froze mid-bite, her expression horrified. “But how? And why?”
“I thought it was to frighten me. But then she told me I looked just like him, and that sooner or later someone else would have recognized me. So perhaps it was meant as a caution. Shecouldhave told Mead, but she didn’t.”
“I supposed that’s true.” Rosie frowned. “But…how did she know what Father looked like as a child?”
“The only photograph of him as a child was in Mother’s locket.” Clem looked at her sister meaningfully.
“Oh…” Rosie breathed. “So…Mother showed her the locket.”
“She must have. Which means—perhaps sheisan ally after all.”
“Still.” Rosie shook her head. “It must have been dreadful to see Father there.”
Clem chewed thoughtfully. “I was prepared for worse. There’s nothing more common than malice at Commonwealth.”
Rosie shivered. “I would have run the other way.”
“She also warned me of something. She said the stones would come for me.”
“Stones? What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure.”
It was as I feared. Though they would have made for sensational headlines, the stoning deaths had not been reported in the newspapers. No doubt the influence of Cisneros was in part responsible.
Rosie looked worried. “I’m glad you’re home.”
Clem sat back in her chair. “Well, I am certainly happy to be back here with you.No hay mal que por bien no venga, right?”
