Chapter 16
The carriage rattled over wet stone. Rain followed us from the coast, the sky so dark and gloomy it was impossible to tell day from night. Oil lamps supplied the only source of light beyond the occasional flashes of lightning.
Winnie’s gaze bore into the new passenger. While the handmaidens slept their boredom away, she could hardly bring herself to blink in the stranger’s presence. I’d come to learn that Winnie wasn’t fond of surprises, and this particular surprise kept her hackles raised.
We stopped at a southern keep that night, a manor surrounded by open fields.
It had been the home of Trefor Tharon before he came to Castle Altaigne, but now it was run by his brother Henri.
We rushed inside, protected with umbrellas held by damp servants.
The horses stirred uneasily as thunder clapped from nearby, a terrible sound that shook the earth.
“How utterly dreadful,” I lamented, staring out into the darkness.
I was glad to stretch my legs; not once had we stopped for more than a few moments, and I’d only left the carriage to relieve my bladder.
Those few minutes were enough to dampen my clothes and hair, and I still hadn’t recovered from the chill. “I need a warm bath.”
Winnie tapped her foot expectantly at the new lady-in-waiting, but no offer was made to draw the water. Her leg stilled. “Allow me, Lady Alana.”
I nodded, and Winnie left to speak with a group of servants.
Then she returned, and we followed the others to the guest wing.
In the grim lighting, pockets of the palace disappeared in shadow.
Guards loomed about, dimly-illuminated by candles atop brass sconces.
We sorted out our chambers, and Florence paused at my side.
“Sleep well, dear,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and without another word to anyone, she disappeared into an apartment of her own.
Winnie held her scowl until servants filed in, arms burdened with buckets of steaming water. When the last of them had gone, she shut the door. I took particular note of the frustrated way she began to disrobe me.
“Lady Winnie, have I offended you?” I asked. “Because you just whacked my breast with your elbow.”
“It’s that witch who offends me so,” Winnie replied, removing the stomacher with a bit too much force. “Did you hear how she spoke to you? Some lady-in-waiting she is.”
I tensed. “A witch, you say?”
“Aye, a witch. You ought to know how her type is viewed. Consorting with a witch could damn your reputation, Alana, or even your life if people have reason enough to fear her.”
What had given Florence away? She’d gone to great efforts to change her face.
She went without the kohl on her eyes and applied enough rouge to give the impression of rosacea.
Even her hair had been tamed, swept back properly beneath a bonnet, and her clothes were colorful and lively. Nothing about her screamed “witch”.
“You’ll not keep secrets from me,” Winnie chastised, sounding almost motherly. “Tell me why a witch has followed us home.”
I considered blaming Nicolas, if only to save myself the time that would inevitably be spent on this explanation. The bath called to me, but I knew I owed my friend the truth.
“The prince brought me to Hadria in hopes that a sorceress might be able to lift my curse,” I began, the weight of the wet clothes dropping from my shoulders at last. “But Maitre Florence said the curse cannot be undone by anyone but the witch who inflicted it.”
Pausing, I took note of Winnie’s expression. Already her bristles had softened, replaced by pity, but I still hadn’t explained why Florence had been invited to Gallae.
“Florence offered something else. She says that I possess an innate magical ability because of the curse, something that would take anyone else a long time to perfect. She wishes to train me to hone this magic so that I can protect myself.”
Winnie’s hands stilled on the lace of my corset. “And you agreed to this?”
Scoffing, I threw my arms out. “What choice did I have? Percy nearly had me killed, and he’s only one threat among many!
I don’t know how many enemies the prince possesses.
For all I know, half the court stands ready to kill me, and I cannot spend my entire life hiding behind your skirts, being followed around by the viscount!
At least if I have magic, I will possess some vague sense of control over my life. ”
“Percy?” asked Winnie, narrowing her eyes. Understanding dawned across her features before she smacked herself on the forehead. “Shit! You couldn’t have told me, woman?! Digestive tea, you said, and I advertised it as a family remedy! You’ve implicated me in attempted murder!”
She paced around the small room, hands gesturing wildly.
“Do you have any idea what they do to people for attempting to kill a member of the royal family? For even speaking of doing so? Any idea what they do to accomplices?! And here I was, prattling on about the ‘Chastain family’s renowned healing methods’ while you were trying to kill a man!
” She whirled to face me. “What if someone puts it together? What if Percy himself realizes?!”
“Winnie—”
“And he’s the one who tried to have you taken?” Winnie’s voice cracked. “Had you only told me, I would have gutted the rat in his sleep! You didn’t have to bear that burden alone, you stubborn fool!”
I took a moment to recover. Winnie could be frightening when she put her mind to it. “I did not think you would approve of such corruption on my part.”
“Corruption?” asked Winnie, but she had neither defense nor counter-argument.
I met her eyes. “Florence cannot be revealed. No one, save the prince and yourself, will know who she is and what she teaches me.”
“And Quinn,” Winnie added. She crossed her arms. “He’ll recognize her. He accompanied you to that tower, and he grew up in Pontarena.”
That was true. I hadn’t considered him, and he hadn’t questioned the presence of one more woman in the lady’s carriage. I’d told Nicolas of my plans to bring Florence into Castle Altaigne, and he’d approved wholeheartedly. Perhaps he’d already relayed what needed to be said to the viscount.
Winnie sighed, then gestured to the basin. “Go on, then. Thank you for the truth.”
“Can you swear to secrecy?” I asked, removing my chemise and climbing into the copper tub. The miserable chill melted away as I settled in. “Telling you this places a magnificent risk upon me.”
“My love for you far outweighs my aversion for the witch,” Winnie replied, nodding her head.
“I am disquieted by the thought of you tampering with the dark arts, but I will not stop you. You must protect yourself, and it’s not as though anyone would train you with a weapon.
And, if I was the reason you denied yourself that right, if something happened to you… ”
“I know,” I said, filling in the blanks that Winnie could not voice.
“You know fuck-all,” Winnie grumbled, sitting beside the tub to wash my hair.
I had to appreciate the irony of how I’d come to allow her to speak in my presence, considering how Winnie had just criticized Florence.
“If your witch is to pose as a convincing lady-in-waiting, she must learn to conduct herself accordingly. No one is going to buy it as it stands; she has an air of superiority.”
“Right,” I exhaled, leaning back into the water. “I shall inform her in the morning. First, I must think of how to tell her she’s been demoted.”
How on earth was I supposed to do that? Lightning struck close to the manor, quaking the building’s foundation. I hoped it wasn’t a warning from the Lord of Night, if He truly existed, to know my place around the Hadrian sorceress.
The following days were pleasantly sunny, if much cooler.
It had finally occurred to the leaves that autumn was well upon them, and now they fell in colorful blankets to catch up to where they ought to be.
Once again, the carriages rode through the village at the bottom of the hill, past manors whose masters were clearer to me now.
Out here were the quarters to high court officials and their families, military leaders granted estates for their service, and a few court functionaries like the royal librarian and chief royal architect.
It seemed odd that such figures of importance could sleep beyond the gates at night while men like Percy, devoid of official roles, kept close quarters.
There had been no word from any riders during our brief stay in Pontarena. Percy’s fate was yet unknown, though surely if the man had suddenly perished, someone would have sent a messenger. More likely than not, he’d made a full recovery and was no worse for wear.
Hopefully, he’d fallen for my attempts at healing him.
Perhaps he thought me unaware of what he’d done, a pretty little fool with no head for politics.
Perhaps, though the chance was slim, he even felt remorse for his actions.
How could he have done such a terrible thing to such a kind spirit?
It was no wonder the gods sought to punish him with flux!
That felt like wishful thinking, but it was better to have hope than worry myself to death.
In the courtyard, I was the last to exit the carriage.
It was late afternoon now, the air crisp and smelling of seasonal decay.
I stretched and bid my handmaidens to go on without me, though Winnie and Florence were welcome to stay.
The carriage departed for the coach house by the stables, and we took a short walk about the grounds, allowing Florence to get a taste of her new surroundings.
The sorceress shivered constantly, and her Gallaean clothes, borrowed from Winnie’s wardrobe, fit her poorly. As we walked, she tugged at the unfamiliar garments, her skin prickling from both the chill and the rougher cloth against flesh accustomed to silk.
“Worry not, good lady,” I said, no longer allowed to use the term Matire. “It is quite warm inside.”