Assassin’s Fate

‘Maybelle,’ he replied. He grinned at me, and then it faded. ‘Bee, we should go back. Everyone will be frightened for you.’

‘Truly?’

‘Truly.’

‘A little longer away from them all. They are all so …’ He waited. There wasn’t a word that expressed how they looked at me, and over my head, and that there was always, always someone standing there. ‘I never get to be alone.’

He frowned. ‘Do you want me to leave you alone?’

‘No. I can be alone with you here. You never look at me like I’m something odd in your soup.’

He laughed, and I did, too. ‘How is your life? Are you well treated?’

His smile faded. ‘I’m a stableboy, one of many. The stablemaster tells me often not to be ‘above myself’. Yesterday he chided me and told me I must not have favourites among the horses. I had lingered too long at Pris’s stall.’ He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his head. ‘He rapped me with the handle of a broom when I said that Lant’s mare needed more oats. “Lord FitzVigilant to you, boy! And do not tell me my business!”’ He laughed at his own tale. I did not find it funny at all.

‘And you?’

I sighed. ‘Lessons of all sorts. A great deal of changing my clothes, followed by sitting still and proper in itchy garments. Lady Simmer always trailing after me, correcting me, keeping me “usefully occupied”. Always indoors.’

‘Do you see much of Spark? Lant and—’ he hesitated. ‘Lord Chance?’

‘Nothing of Spark. Lant and Beloved are almost as good as my father was at leaving me alone.’

Per’s eyes widened and I wished I had not said it. But it was true. For all Beloved’s nattering, I saw little of him except when he was nosing through my dream book or asking me questions.

‘I miss them all,’ Per said quietly.

‘They do not come to see you?’

‘Spark? Not at all. Lord FitzVigilant and Lord Chance? I saddle their horses, and Lant — Lord FitzVigilant always slips me a coin. We look at each other and I know they wish me well. But there are always people watching and appearances to be maintained.’ He patted his pocket and it jingled. ‘I wonder if I will ever be given time to go and actually spend some of the coins.’

I heard hoofbeats. We both straightened and Per reined his horse a little away from me as first Lant, and then Beloved rode out of the trees. They both looked flustered. Beloved rode close to me and said, very quickly, ‘A fly stung your horse and she ran away with you. Per came and caught her headstall. Per, get off your house and hold her reins. Quickly!’ Sternly, he added to me, ‘Bee, you must never put Per in such danger of rebuke again. You must look shaken when the others get here.’

Per did as he was told. Perhaps the anger burning inside me could make me look ‘shaken’. Every time I began to like Beloved at all, he did something to fan those flames. To hear they neglected Per made me want to spit at him. I drew breath to tell him that.

But here came two grooms and someone’s father, all asking if I’d fallen, and the groom sombrely suggesting a more sedate mount ‘until the young lady has better riding skills’.

We went by a roundabout way back to the level trail and two of the mothers insisted that we must turn back for they were very unsettled and did not want to witness another incident with ‘an unruly horse’. All the youngsters were looking at me with wide eyes. Per dropped back again to the end of our procession.

Later, Nettle called me in for ‘a word’. It was more than one word, and her baby cried and she walked up and down gently bouncing her the whole time she was reminding me that I must bear myself with dignity now. I did not ask her if she had decided about my Skill. Now was not a good time to remind her that I was wilful in many ways. Riddle escorted me back to my chambers afterward. As he left me at the door, he said, ‘If it is any comfort, your father did not enjoy this aspect of his life either. But he managed it, and so must you.’

I went to bed early that night, thinking that some of Dwalia’s beatings had been easier to take then Nettle’s lecture and disappointed face. As I did now, I set my walls well before I tried to sleep, to keep my nightmares in as much to keep others out. My window was dark and the castle quiet when I awoke to distant music. For a time, I was still and listened, wondering who would be making music at such an hour and for whom. I could not identify the instrument, but the music suited my mood perfectly. It was lonely and yet not fully sad, as if being alone were not such a bad thing.