“We made that bargain. I held up my end of it. He’s just paying a debt.”
“Hmm.”
“How were things while I was gone? Did Tilly help you? I heard the village was evacuated.”
Her mother knew she was being distracted, but she allowed it. “The village was quiet until the witch hunters arrived. Tilly and George helped me during the evacuation. The soldiers were anxious to be off. They cleared the houses and sent us away, but they didn’t leave anyone behind in Toam to ensure it remained empty. We left the group and circled back. A day of walking through the woods but no harm done.”
She grinned. “You defied the king’s men?”
She would expect it of Tilly, but not her mother.
Her mother frowned. “It was a foolish order. There was no place for us in Sulen and no danger in the village. I wanted to be there when you returned. It didn’t take the captain’s men long to find me.”
“The rest of the village?”
“Some of them have left permanently. Horace and Abigail. Mather. Most are already back in their homes. Tilly sends her best. The captain invited her to accompany me, but she refused.”
Tilly wouldn’t want to share a roof with a witch hunter. She wished Tilly was here now. She’d thought about that charm, the one meant to prevent pregnancy, the one Casrian had hurled into the woods. She should take something, but she wasn’t up to finding the garden herself and she didn’t want to ask her mother to make her a potion. It might not be too late. Maybe Asher would help.
A strange fluttery sensation stirred in her belly thinking about the possibility of having Casrian’s child.
Probably terror.
Her mother checked her over in the same way Asher had done. She promised to make her a tea to soothe her pains. She promised that this one wouldn’t put her to sleep again. By the time she was finished, the food had come, delivered by a shy young maid who regarded Rowan with wary fascination.
The maid set up a tray on the bed. Cider and soft eggs and oats. Rowan gave the maid an encouraging smile when she thanked her. The girl curtsied before taking her leave. Rowan stared at her as she slipped out of the room.
“Did she just curtsy at me?”
Her mother laughed. “You’re the baron’s guest. You’re sleeping in the lord’s bedchamber. You should hear the gossip in the kitchen.”
She groaned. “I don’t want to know what they’re saying.”
“No,” her mother agreed. “You really don’t. Eat your food. All of it. You need to rebuild your strength.”
“I don’t want the eggs,” she said, picking up the spoon and dipping it into the oats. “You can have them.”
“I’ve already eaten. The cook is good.”
She believed it. The oats were delicious, lightly seasoned with cinnamon and sugar. She hadn’t tasted either for years. “I’ve hit my lifetime limit for eggs. I don’t care if I never have another one for the rest of my life.”
“You can tell the cook that, but you’ll get a reputation for being difficult with the staff. Better to let them know gently after a few weeks of eating whatever they serve you.”
Weeks…
Her mother leaned back in her chair, a calm and contented expression on her face. Her hands folded over her belly. She was wearing a new gown, simple but well-made in a smooth soft-looking fabric.
“I’m not going to be here in a few weeks.”
Her mother said nothing to that, just smiled a smug, secretive smile and waited for her to shove more food in her mouth.
Sometimes, she believed the things people in Jarn had whispered about her mother—that she’d come from a wealthy home. How else did she know about things like how to manage the staff? She’d always been just a little bit different. She used bigger words. Her accent and the cadence of her speech were foreign. Rowan had always thought it was just because she came from the capital and that everyone outside of their village was like her, but she was starting to question that belief.
“You seem awfully at home here,” she said, reaching for the cider.
“It’s a comfortable home,” she said with a touch of longing in her voice. “Small but solidly built. An old home that’s been well-cared for.”
Rowan looked around the room that was larger than the cottage they’d lived in when they were in Jarn. “This is small?”
