5. Second Circle #3
“Someone should ask it, because your acknowledged sons certainly will.” The veil didn’t move, but I felt her gaze on me like a weight.
“They’ll learn what happened here tonight soon enough. Your wife will want to know as well.”
She stepped forward. “She will find out you ordered the bastard tested before the lady’s body was even cold.”
She let that settle before continuing. “They’ll all want to know if the boy is worth the trouble he’s going to cause this house. ”
“If he isn’t worth it, well.” Her tone didn’t change, and that was what made it dangerous.
“Cribs are found empty sometimes. Infants sicken and die for no reason anyone can explain.”
She tilted her head toward the door. “These things happen in the backhouse, my lord.”
“Nothing will happen to this boy.” Henrik’s voice hardened into something that brooked no argument.
“He’s my blood, and he will live. He’ll be raised in this house and tested when the time comes.”
He looked directly at the veiled woman. “He’ll rise or fall on his own merits. Never on the convenience of those who’d rather he disappeared quietly.”
The veiled woman inclined her head in acknowledgment. She didn’t necessarily agree to anything she’d heard.
“As you say, my lord. You should know that the wet nurses answer to your wife rather than to you.”
“The servants in the backhouse have their own loyalties, and those loyalties aren’t to bastards.” She clasped her hands in front of her.
“Your promise protects the boy from blades in the night. Whether it protects him from a pillow held too long, or milk that comes too thin, I cannot say.”
She let the silence finish the thought. She was talking about a window left open on a cold night when the wind cuts through.
“Then you will watch him.” Henrik turned to face her fully. I could see the command in his posture.
“You’ll report any illness, any accident, or any death that seems less than natural.” He stepped closer .
“I want to know every change among the children in the backhouse. If anyone touches him, if anyone shortens his feeding, you’ll tell me immediately.”
“And what will you do when I tell you, my lord?” The question carried no challenge.
It was only genuine curiosity. “You can’t watch him every hour of every day.”
“You can’t taste his milk or check his blankets while he sleeps. The backhouse has its own rules, and lords don’t live by them.”
Henrik crossed the distance between them in two strides. His voice dropped low, but it carried the weight of a man who’d spent decades making sure his threats landed.
“I’ll make sure that everyone who works in the backhouse understands one thing. This boy’s death would be very expensive for whoever caused it.”
“I’ll make sure they understand that I’ll find out who’s responsible. I’ll make examples that their grandchildren will remember.”
He looked down at me. “I can’t watch him every moment, you’re right about that. But I can make sure that watching him becomes everyone else’s priority.”
The veiled woman was silent for a long moment. She was considering his words.
When she spoke again, her voice had changed. It softened into what might’ve been respect or wariness.
“The boy has good eyes, my lord. He’s watching us right now like he understands what we’re saying.”
“He’s hours old. He can’t understand anything.”
“Perhaps.” She moved closer to the cushion where I lay .
I caught a glimpse of eyes behind the veil. They were dark and sharp, missing nothing.
“But he’s watching nonetheless. Those eyes don’t look like an infant’s eyes should look.”
She reached out with one gloved hand and touched my cheek. I felt a jolt of contact that carried weight beyond the physical.
It was a measured acknowledgment. It was the first move in a game I didn’t yet understand the rules of.
“I’ll watch him, my lord. I’ll report anything unusual.”
She pulled her hand back. “When the time comes, I’ll tell you whether he was worth what the lady paid.”
Henrik nodded once. He accepted the bargain she’d offered and turned to leave the room without looking back at me.
The physician followed him out. He was still muttering about unusual results and the need for follow-up testing.
The veiled woman stayed where she was. Her dark eyes were fixed on mine through the fabric that hid her face.
“You’re going to have a very interesting life, little one.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
It was pitched so that only I could hear it. “Try not to die before it gets interesting.”
She straightened and walked away. Her footsteps made no sound on the stone floor.
The room went quiet. I was left on the cushion with nothing but my thoughts, my hunger, and the brands burning dormant beneath my skin.
◇ ◆ ◇
They buried my mother two days later. The ground had finally thawed enough to accept a grave.
Infants didn’t attend funerals, so I heard about it secondhand. The wet nurse who fed me talked about it while she worked.
She didn’t know I understood her. She didn’t know that my brain was processing language far faster than any newborn’s should.
She spoke freely about everything she’d seen and heard.
“Second circle, near the willows, just like the lord ordered.” Her voice was soft and warm.
It was the kind of voice meant to soothe babies rather than inform them. “A marked grave with her name carved proper.”
“Clarissa de Hellen. He treated her like she was someone who mattered.”
She shifted me to her other breast. She handled me with the casual competence of someone who’d done this a thousand times.
“The lord himself stood there until the last stone was set. Wouldn’t leave even when the rain started.”
She shook her head. “He just stood there staring at the ground like he could bring her back through pure stubborn will.”
“They’re whispering in the kitchens, you know.” She lowered her voice.
It was the way people do when they know they shouldn’t be talking but can’t help themselves. “They wonder why the bleeding wouldn’t stop.”
“They say a woman that young and that strong shouldn’t have gone so fast. Nobody’s saying anything out loud, mind you.” She sighed. “But the whispers are loud enough if you know where to stand. ”
I filed the information away with everything else I’d learned. The servants suspected foul play even if they wouldn’t name it directly.
Hel told me the same hand that killed her daughter had been working here. It was reaching into House de Blaise to eliminate threats before they could grow.
The question was why Clarissa was a threat at all.
Hel told me she could heal wounds without divine blessing. It was a gift she never learned to use properly.
Maybe that gift made her dangerous to whoever needed her to stay weak and controllable. Maybe the poison was meant to stop her from discovering what she could do.
Either way, I had a grave to visit when I was old enough to walk there on my own feet.
“Your father came to see you this morning, while you were sleeping.” The wet nurse’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Stood over your cradle for nearly an hour, just watching you breathe. He’s got plans for you, little one.”
She smiled down at me. “I can see it in the way he looks at you.”
She finished feeding me and settled me back into the cradle. Her hands were surprisingly gentle for someone who probably had a dozen other children to care for.
“Try to survive long enough to find out what those plans are. The backhouse is dangerous for babies who don’t have mothers to protect them.”
She tucked the blanket in tight. “Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. Maybe you’ll live long enough to prove whatever it is your father thinks you can prove. ”
It was good advice, even if she didn’t know I understood it. I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.
Sleep was the only thing this body was good for right now. Tomorrow, I’d start figuring out how to survive.
「Hel’s Ledger」
Vessel: Danarre de Blaise | Year 815 | Age 0
House de Blaise | Status: Bastard (Unacknowledged)
Location: de Blaise Keep
「Knight of Swords」 — Sleeping
「Emperor」 — Sleeping
「Magician」 — Sleeping
Active Charge: Find the one who broke Hel’s claim.
The thread is taut.