Get with the Program

Franka

 

“Is everything all right, my lady?” Josette asked.

I turned my head from my contemplation of the view outside the newly-installed window, in font of which my chair was resting, and looked to my maid, trying not to be annoyed at her hovering concern.

“Everything is just fine, Josette. Except perhaps you can bring me my book?”

She jumped as if she’d been asleep and just awoken before she dashed to the book sitting on the nightstand, like procuring it was of grave import. Once this crucial task was accomplished, she dashed directly to me.

“There you go,” she said, offering me the slim volume.

“My appreciation,” I murmured tightly, taking it.

“Anything else?” she inquired. “Do you feel pain? Would you like me to brew some willow tea? Are your dressings chafing? Would you like me to assist you back to the bed?”

“I’d like, my dear, some quiet and peace in order to read,” I replied with forced composure.

“Yes,” she returned swiftly. “Of course. I’m just in the other room should you need to call.”

As she had been for the last three days, only a slight raise of the voice away.

I watched as she made her way to my dressing-room door, a small antechamber of that room where her narrow bed was located, but I stopped her before she vanished behind it.

“Josette?”

She turned to me.

I continued, “We haven’t discussed it, but I’d like for you to share how you knew to awaken Noctorno and take him to the buttery.”

Her inquisitive look turned guarded and it took a moment for her to answer.

As this moment passed I sought patience, something of which I’d once had a profuse amount at my disposal. Patience was important when one engaged in plentiful amounts of intrigue.

Something I’d found slipping of late.

When I was on the cusp of prompting her, she declared, “I sleep light.”

“This is not quite an explanation,” I noted when she said no more.

“I’ve been in service almost all my life. When my employers have need of me, night or day, I’m trained to be awake and aware.”

“You’re an excellent maid, Josette. Are you saying something woke you, you found my bed empty and went in search of me?”

“Actually, you woke me, closing the door to your room. I worried about you, your…well, state of mind being…well…” She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. The thing is, I was worried so I followed you.”

How curious.

I hadn’t heard her. I hadn’t even sensed her.

Then again, my mind had been on other things.

“And thus you saw it all,” I remarked. “Or heard it, when you weren’t bustling to go tell Master Noctorno what was happening.”

She visibly swallowed.

I studied her and as I did so I watched her anxiety escalate.

As noted, she’d been an excellent maid for some time.

The past several days, however, she’d been more.

Therefore, I found myself assuring her softly, “I’m not angry with you, Josette.”

“He was…” she shook her head again, “Master Noc was the only one I was certain would…help,” she finished feebly.

“I’m certain you’re quite right,” I replied.

She took a step toward me and stopped. “I’m very pleased you’re not annoyed with me, Lady Franka. I thought…when the subject came up, you’d…” she trailed off and didn’t continue.

There was much about this to consider and I’d most assuredly considered it over the last few days.

Namely, the filthy secret of Nils, Anneka, Franka and Kristian Drakkar being out.

And the end of the domination, fear and torment.

It was unexpectedly not easy to come to terms with.

Considering my mother’s magic, and the life I’d led where memories started with suffering in a way I knew nothing else, I’d never pondered a life without Nils and Anneka meting out their brand of ruthlessness. A life not living under the cloud of it happening again, doing my best to escape it and finding ways to keep safe from the minute I could.

I should have been relieved. Even joyous.

And yet I was not.

I felt a good deal of humiliation, but more of shame with an underlying uneasiness.

Kristian, I’d learned (from Finnie during one of her many visits), wanted to settle his wife and child after the fright of Mother appearing, and then they were journeying to the Winter Palace to see me. Valentine had offered to bring them there much quicker, that was to say in an instant, but Kristian had declined, fearing his young son’s reaction to such a happenstance.

Though mostly, I’d decided, it was probably that this offer was extended right after Valentine interrupted my mother’s preparations so my brother was likely more concerned about the state of mind of his family than travel plans.

It was highly unusual (and if they were to journey by sleigh, which it seemed they were going to do, meaning I’d be at the Winter Palace even longer than the queen decreed) but I was keen for my brother’s visit.

It wasn’t unusual because I wished to see him and ascertain if he was indeed well in mind and spirit.

It was unusual because I wished to talk with him about his reaction to our lifelong misery coming to an abrupt, unanticipated end.

Discussing my feelings was not something I was adept at doing. That was to say, since I put a stop to Kristian and I whispering together as children because we were repeatedly punished for it, I’d never done it, not even with Antoine.

Therefore looking forward to such discourse was farcical.

But it could not be denied I did.

“My lady, is there aught else?” Josette called, and I started, losing track of our conversation and even forgetting she was there.

“I’m so sorry, Josette. My mind wandered. No, thank you. Nothing else.”

She did not move.

All she did was blink.

I found that odd until I realized what had come out of my mouth.

Dear goddess, I’d apologized.

And…

I peered closer at my maid, squinting my eyes across the distance…

It appeared she was on the verge of tears!

Bloody hell.

I wasn’t an ogre but she’d been with me for five years.

Five years with someone who was distant, respectful, but not kind.

Not to mention, the very idea of living a life at the beck and call of anyone was revolting.

Further, as my parents had taught me—that servants were beneath my notice—living a life not once considering that dreadful fact was even more revolting.

Which meant I was revolting!

You’re learning, mon ange, Antoine said in my head.

Bloody bleeding hell.

Bugger off, I snapped.

“I…you’re…I…” Josette cut into my demented thoughts and this time she visibly gulped, “I’ll check in on you later, milady.”

I decided to keep my mouth shut and simply lift my chin.

She finally vanished behind the door.

I watched this and did not beat back my sigh of relief.

I then found the ribbon in my book and opened it to the next chapter I should be reading.

However, I knew this was a wasted effort, for regardless of the copious time I’d had to rest and mend, that time had been broken repeatedly, mostly by Josette, but also with irritating frequency by Noc and even by a solicitous Frey and an openly pleasant and sociable Finnie.

And just that morning, the first I’d been out of my bed, she’d brought Circe and Cora (Madeleine was now celebrating wedded bliss with Apollo, on their way to one of his houses by some lake somewhere, this I knew due to the chitter-chatter of the two princesses and queen who’d attended me, all of whom gabbed like scullery maids).

I had found that ignoring Noc or giving him monosyllabic answers did not deter him in his friendliness. In fact, he found it amusing and did not hesitate not only to demonstrate this by smiling, chuckling or out and out laughing, but also sharing this with me verbally. As if not only could I read he found this so by his smiling, chuckling and laughing, but also he wished to assure me of the veracity of these acts like this was the most sought after attribute.

I also found that one did not have to be sociable and forthcoming around sociable and forthcoming people. One could be virtually silent and even sullen and they just carried on being social and forthcoming.

It was grating on my nerves.

I’d even pulled the real Franka out, saying something cutting to Finnie right in front of Aurora (although Frey had left my room—I was frustrated, not foolish), and if it could be credited, Finnie had just smiled at me and declared, “Franka, I swear, you’re a stitch.”

Yes.

That was precisely what she said.

I’d never forget it.

And now, as I should be averting my mind to a book, I was not. Instead, I was on tenterhooks awaiting who might come through the door.

I would not admit that I wished it to be Noc even as I did know that, with the frequency of his visits, he was the most likely candidate.

Indeed, I would not admit I wished it to be anyone, because, damnably, sociability and outgoingness was nauseatingly pleasing to be around.

I turned my attention from my book to the window and asked it, “If I looked in the mirror, would I even recognize me?”

This is who you’ve always been, love, Antoine answered.

I’m quite pleased you’re dead, I lied irritably.

I know this is not true. Though, this being what you think, you’d be free to explore the feelings you have growing toward Noc.

At these words in my head, my back shot straight so fast a swell of pain rose that was so fierce I had to bite my lip in an effort not to moan.

During this effort, I heard a sharp rap on the door, and heralding Noc’s arrival (as this was always the case), before I bid entry (or denied it, this effort always unheeded), the door opened and he sauntered through.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted.

I did not greet back.

I glowered.

This was because he was wearing those trousers again. It seemed he had a number of pairs, all the same fabric but all different shades of blue, all of them an impossibility to decide which pair suited him the best.

He was also wearing a shirt that looked of the same material, except more lightweight and almost completely faded, only a nuance of blue was left. And this shirt managed to do remarkable things not only to his chest, but also his narrow waist, his broad shoulders and his extraordinary eyes.

Yes, if I hadn’t already come to that conclusion, the last three days it had been made clear the gods had utterly forsaken me.

I looked to the window attempting to call up the vision of Antoine. His lanky frame. His refined features. The thickness of his dark-blond hair. The vividness of his green eyes.

But all I could see was Noc in his trousers.

And all I could hear was Noc dragging a chair over to mine.

“You good?” he asked.

“I am,” I answered the window.

“Should you be sitting up?” he asked.

“The physician seemed to think so, considering it was his suggestion.”

“Is that pillow you got behind you fluffy enough?” Noc pressed.

Proof.

Friendliness and sociability, not to mention kindness, were frustrating.

And nauseating.

(I told myself).

Slowly, I turned my eyes to him. “No, it’s hard and chafing. But considering I’ve just ordered Josette to bring me a hair shirt so I can continue my self-flagellation at higher levels of discomfort, I think it will suffice.”

Noc flashed me a smile. “You’re bein’ funny so I see you’re good.”

Somehow, I continued to give myself away.

I sighed heavily and turned my attention back to the window, announcing, “I had intended to read.”

“Then read.”

I looked back at him. “Alone.”

“Then read alone. I’ll run down to the library, find a book, come up and do it with you.”

I tipped my head to the side. “You do have the word alone in your world, do you not?”

“Sure we do,” he replied amiably. “But figure, you got your head in a book, you’re always alone, even if someone’s with you.”

If one did indeed have their head in a book, he was quite right.

I shifted my gaze back to the window.

“Your book’s not out the window, Frannie.”

Gods, that name.

“The green witch has disappeared,” I stated, my curiosity at said disappearance getting the better of me for I knew I should say nothing that might strike up discourse. Even though I needed to say nothing to strike up discourse, Noc was adept at doing that all on his own.

“She has. According to the others, this is her way. She comes and goes as she pleases.”

I did not turn away from the window when I asked, “With the troubles over, is she gone for good?”

“According to Lavinia, she reckons Valentine will be back. When? That’s anybody’s guess.”

I said nothing for a long time, struggling with my thoughts that I found the green witch fascinating, and of all my visitors these last days, she was the one I’d actually wish to have.

I became cognizant of my reflection in the window, the chill coming off the glass, cooling my shoulder.

I needed my shawl.

I needed peace and quiet.

I needed my own company.

I needed…

“I can’t picture him,” I declared for reasons unknown, likely because taking in all this sociability and outgoingness was making me daft.

“Say again?” Noc asked.

“I can’t picture him,” I shared insanely. “Antoine. It’s difficult to call him up. I might focus in on a feature, but it’s elusive. The rest, hazy.”

“Right, see you might not be good,” he muttered.

He was correct.

I fought my shoulders slumping, and not simply because that minute movement might cause pain, but of what it would betray to Noc. A physical habit, this subterfuge, for even as I fought it, my mouth kept giving him what was in my head.

“I should have hired a portrait artist,” I said faintly to the window. “Twenty of them. Hundreds of them. I don’t have a single image of him and my mind is failing too soon.” My voice fell to a whisper. “Too, too soon.”

I was startled when Noc took my hand. I looked down to it and up to him to see he’d drawn his chair even closer, we were but inches away, and he was holding my hand in a warm, firm grip.

“He wasn’t what he looked like, baby,” he said gently. “He was always only what he made you feel. And I bet that isn’t failing.”

Looking into his startling blue eyes, eyes I knew instinctively I’d never forget, not for a moment, I feared he was wrong.

I slipped my hand from his grip, placed the ribbon back into the book, shut it smartly and again turned to the window.

“Am I right?” Noc pushed.

“He deserves more,” I replied, not looking at him. “He deserves to have every memory held precious.”

“Memories are what they made you feel too, sweetheart. But Franka,” not attempting to grab my hand again, he curled his long fingers around my knee, “if you hold on too tight, you won’t let go. You don’t let go, you don’t move on. You gotta hold on to what you can have, the good you got from him, how that made you feel, but hold on loose, baby, so you don’t miss out on what might be in store.”

I felt a tinge of pain in my back as my attention jerked again to Noc.

“And you assume I wish to move on?”

“Not now, maybe,” he said. “It’s too fresh. But someday, yes.”

“Well, you’d be wrong,” I snapped.

“And what would Antoine think of that?”

I shut my mouth and yet again diverted my gaze to the window, for I knew exactly what Antoine would think of that.

And it wasn’t much.

He lived life to its fullest. He loved life. He taught me to do the same (when I was with him).

He’d be disappointed if I did not continue on in that vein, now even more so without the threat of my parents clouding my every move.

Noc gave my knee a squeeze. “This shit, it’s not for now, Frannie. This shit, you think on in the future. They say there’re five stages of grief. Wasn’t around you to know if you hit the first, which is denial. But I know you worked through anger with the revenge you played out on those witches. Maybe you did the bargaining but it seems to me you’re in the depression stage now and you just gotta feel it. Don’t fight it. It’s gonna suck. But then you’ll get through that, get to the last stage, and accept it.”

I turned back to Noc, declaring, “That’s utterly preposterous.”

“Tell me you haven’t touched on all of those, babe. Say it right to my face,” he dared.

“I haven’t,” I retorted.

His lips quirked. “Think on it and repeat that.”

“This is a ridiculous exercise, Noc,” I announced instead of “thinking on it.”

This earned me a half smile and a muttered, “Right, maybe you’re still in the anger stage.”

“Weren’t you going to go to the library and get a book?” I reminded him.

His brows went up. “Is that an invitation to come back and read with you?”

“Absolutely not. However, Frey had the rail taken out of the door so I can’t bar it against you, so you, and everyone else in the palace, are free to come and go as you wish, something you, and everyone else in the palace, feel free to do. What I wish is that you’d go, and if it’s simply to find a book, this would not be unwelcome.”

He released my knee and sat back. “Don’t be pissed at Frey for that, sugarlips. I asked him to do that so you wouldn’t get up to anything stupid.”

“I’ve never been stupid a single day in my life,” I rejoined.

“I bet that’s true,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving mine.

I drew in breath through my nose then stated, “As you seem determined to spend time in my presence, and you and Frey seem to have a good deal of accord, it would be prudent on my part to make you useful. Thus, prior to my brother arriving at the Winter Palace, I’d like you to request of Frey that I’m allowed to see my parents in jail.”

He did an odd blink where he closed his eyes, lifted his brows keeping his eyes closed, then opened his eyes only to share his were filled with disbelief.

“Say what?” he queried just as oddly as the elongated blink.

“I’d like you to request of Frey that I’m allowed to see my parents in jail, doing this prior to Kristian and his family arriving here,” I repeated.

“I heard you, babe, I’m just wondering if you’ve lost your mind in the last two minutes.”

I found this offensive and foolishly straightened my back, controlled the wince that move should have caused and pierced him with a glare.

“I fail to see how desiring a visit with my parents is losing my mind.”

“Frannie, you never have to see them again.”

I carefully straightened my shoulders as I felt my mouth purse.

Then through it, I declared, “A barter, kind sir, my entire chest of Hawkvale gold if you never call me Frannie again. And while I’m mentioning that, my entire chest of Korwahkian jewels and the furs if you never call me sugarlips again.”

A light hit his eyes I was coming to know so I braced for what was next.

“Seein’ as tickin’ you off makes you cuter and funnier, no matter how killer a deal that is, I gotta say no.”

“I was being quite honest,” I lied. Even if the danger no longer lurked, I was absolutely not giving him chests of gold and jewels for the favor of not calling me names I loathed.

Perhaps a fur and a jewel and several coins (that’s how much I loathed those names for the truth was, I didn’t even wish to part with that).

But not all of them.

“Liar,” he returned.

I waved a hand in front of me and moved us back to the pertinent subject, but did it getting a cut in because I was, well…me. Or at least a shadow of me. But there was still that.

“I see. So I request you not call me these names. You decline. I request you speak to Frey in my stead to procure a visit with my parents. You decline that as well. This meaning you’re not only annoying, you’re also not useful.”

He leaned again toward me, reaching out one hand to touch my knee before he asked carefully, “If you don’t have to see them again, after all they’ve done to you, your brother, why on earth would you see them again, sweetheart?”

“Because I’m still standing.”

He sat back in his chair and studied me.

But as he did so, a smile I’d never seen on him curved his mouth.

It was filled with viciousness and glee.

It was astonishing.

And mouthwatering.

“I’ll talk to Frey for you,” he agreed.

“I’d be most obliged.”

He leaned forward again and declared, “Just so you know, you aren’t going alone.”

I wasn’t?

“Whyever not?’ I queried.

“Because I’ll be with you.”

“Why?” That word came higher pitched.

“You’re sharp as a tack but slow to pick up a few things, so I’ll explain again,” he started and promptly finished. “You no longer have to go it alone.”

“I’m not being slow, Noc,” I returned. “I want to go it alone and I’ll explain that further. I don’t want you with me.”

“I give a shit about you,” he stated suddenly sharply, speaking in a way he’d never spoken to me, something which made me fall silent. “You don’t know how to cope with that and I get it, babe. I absolutely do. And you can take all the time you need to wake up and see what’s happening around you. Through that, I’m gonna stick with it, and in case you haven’t noticed, so are Frey and Finnie. In other words, Frannie, buckle up. You don’t get with the program, it’s gonna be a wild ride.”

There was much I understood in his speech.

There was also much I didn’t.

“I do believe I understand the word shit,” I retorted. “And it means excrement.”

His sharp mood was failing as a smile broadened his mouth. “Yeah.”

“So why would you give an excrement about me? Isn’t that saying you don’t think much of me?”

“It’s slang,” he explained.

“Everything you utter is slang.”

“Not everything.”

“The vast majority,” I replied.

His next came in a mutter. “Not gonna argue that.”

“Are we done speaking on this topic?” I queried.

“You don’t fight me on goin’ with you to your parents, then yeah.”

“I’m not in the mood to argue. I’m in the mood to read,” I lied about the latter.

I was in the mood to brood, something I wasn’t going to do in front of him, and I was assuming whatever came next for me would be done with him at least in the room.

“I take that back,” he stated strangely. “One more thing on that topic.”

“Yes?” I prompted.

“Why don’t you ask Frey yourself?”

“When I’m around him he’s friendly and sociable.”

Noc stared at me for some time after I finished speaking before he asked, “And?”

“I find it nauseating.”

He burst out laughing.

I rolled my eyes.

When he was controlling his mirth, I was done rolling my eyes.

He caught them and declared, “You’re so full of shit.”

“What an offensive thing to say,” I snapped.

“It’s slang too, babe, as you know. But yeah. I just essentially called you a liar. Though, in a teasing way.”

With nothing else for it, I looked to the ceiling and begged of the gods who had abandoned me, “Deliver me.”

“You gonna read?” he asked.

I turned my attention to him. “The next item on my day’s agenda is practicing my skill at ignoring you. So yes, Master Noc, I’m going to read.”

“Great, I’ll go get a book,” he muttered, pushed out of his seat and came to me.

He then bent close in order to kiss the top of my hair.

Kiss the top of my hair!

Like he was a doting uncle.

The gall!

Even as the aristocrat in me was insulted beyond measure, I felt a shiver glide down my spine and it was the first thing that felt good in that area for three days.

“Be back,” he said.

Deciding to put my plan into action, I didn’t respond.

I simply opened my book, removed the ribbon and pretended to read.

 

* * * * *

 

Late that evening, after dinner, I sat on the chaise in the dressing room next to the bedroom (both decidedly masculine, but then Noc and I had exchanged rooms due to my situation), bent slightly forward for comfort. My robe was draped low at the back but I held the edges of it up in front to cover me.

Josette was sitting behind me, attending my wounds.

After a day I’d spent completely in the company of others (Noc, reading, Noc, lunch, Noc and Finnie, afternoon chat, Circe and Cora joining us for afternoon tea—we’ll just say it was a great relief when they were away to prepare for dinner), we’d just completed my evening bath.

“The physician wants the lavender and honey on them tonight, milady, but he spoke to me and believes you should do your best to leave them to the air tomorrow. The moistness isn’t allowing scabs to form. We can dress them prior to bed, but during the day leave them. Do you think you can do that?”

As I’d never sustained a beating from my father in my life where anyone attended my wounds, I had a feeling I could.

These were not the words I used to answer my maid.

I stated, “We’ll try it, Josette.”

“Good,” she mumbled.

I sat, feeling the restfulness of her ministrations, and seemingly unable to stop my mouth from speaking that day, more words poured forth.

“There are matters of our future to discuss,” I informed her.

“Our future?” she asked.

“Indeed,” I replied. “Losing Master Antoine, the situation as it stands here, things are quite up in the air.”

Her voice sounded surprised. “Won’t we return to Fleuridia?”

Fleuridia was her home.

I knew from her curriculum vitae she’d been in service in both Hawkvale and Lunwyn prior to coming to being in my employ, which was why I assumed the lovely lilt of her Fleuridian accent was not pronounced and her Valerian was superb.

It had not occurred to me, uncomfortably, but she might be wishing to return home.

“Will this be a problem for you?” I asked.

“I…well, I go where you go, milady.”

She did indeed.

But that had never been across the Green Sea.

“Can you sit up?” she requested. “I need to wrap the dressings around.”

I did as she asked, dropping my arms to give her the access she needed.

“Josette?” I called.

“Right here, Lady Franka.”

“You do know…” By the gods, how did one go about doing such things? “That your service…the way you perform your duties…that I quite…value that.”

There was a pause in her movements before she answered me, her voice lower, not with emotion, or at least not soft emotion.

She sounded like she wished to be laughing.

“I do get that impression, milady.”

“Excellent,” I stated brusquely. “In understanding that, you can imagine in future I’d like to keep you in my employ.”

She wound the gauze around my front and back as I spoke and continued to do so as she did the same. “I would hope so.”

“And for your loyalty and level of performance,” I persevered, feeling drattedly awkward, “which has always been at a high standard, I shall be giving you a rise in pay.”

“That’d be lovely, thank you,” she said quietly from behind me, still wrapping my naked front with gauze, but sounding like she meant those words.

The intimacy of our situation was not lost on me.

The fact that I’d not once considered how I’d entrusted such intimacies to Josette without thought (until then) was also not lost on me.

I struggled with feelings of shame and hoped Antoine’s voice didn’t sound in my head as I persisted.

“I’m also in a position to add to our numbers. However, if you agree to accompany me as I carry out my plans for the future, then I’d like you not only to see to employing someone you feel you’ll work well with, but overseeing that someone once I’ve hired them.”

“Help with my duties?” she asked, the pitch of her voice rising in surprise.

“You’ve worked diligently for some time. I’m in a position to remunerate you to show you my appreciation as well as retain some help for you with said duties.”

“I would…that would…I would be grateful for that, Lady Franka.”

“Excellent,” I murmured as I felt her tying the dressing in place.

“I’m done,” she announced.

I carefully pulled my robe up my back, closed it at the front and cinched it loosely at the waist before turning to sit properly on the chaise.

Josette had already bustled away and was dealing with wet bathing cloths, organizing jars and bottles and gathering my spent clothing.

I’d never once observed her in these duties. I actually didn’t know what became of my attire and items of my toilette after I’d swanned from the bathing room. But now I saw the end of my toilette, as the duration of it, not to mention the time prior to it, heralded nothing but work for Josette.

“Josette,” I said softly and her eyes darted to me as she stopped moving. “Come sit with me, please,” I requested.

Having said “please,” I felt that was enough of a kindness and stopped myself from patting the cushion beside me, which was a bizarre urge I had in that moment.

She threw my clothing over a beautifully-appointed clotheshorse and moved my way. Her step was tentative but her gaze held mine.

She sat next to me, and in deference to my wounds I turned carefully to her.

“I’ve made a decision about what’s next for me and our earlier discourse was done in order for me to share that, in what I’ve decided, I’d like you to remain with me. However, I’ll say what’s next, what I have planned, is most unusual, and of course your life is your own so your decision to accompany me, or not, is also your own.”

“All right, Lady Franka,” she said hesitantly.

“And obviously, from what I’ve already shared, I’ll give you an excellent reference and a healthy stipend should you decide against continuing with me. Enough that perhaps you can take some time to yourself. Travel or…” I flipped a hand, “whatever you enjoy doing. Or you may wish to learn an additional trade. It will be your coin to do with as you wish. But regardless, there will be no need to fret if you don’t find alternate employment immediately. You’ll be safe.”

As I spoke, I ignored her mouth falling open.

I continued to ignore it as I prompted, “Do you understand that?”

She nodded slowly and said, “Yes, milady.”

“Good,” I replied, shifting in my seat, ready to get on with it. “Now I’ll share that I’ve had time to reconsider the plans I had prior to my parents being incarcerated, and even though this means my options for my future are now more extensive in the Northlands…”

Her look turned from astonished to confused, but I ignored that too and carried on.

“I still feel an adventure would be just the thing. With the loss of Master Antoine, Fleuridia—”

Josette didn’t make me utter it, saying swiftly, “I understand, Lady Franka.”

I nodded smartly and declared, “So I’ve decided to cross the Green Sea.”

At this, not only did her mouth drop open but her eyes grew large.

“That’s quite an adventure for anyone,” I went on, even though her expression shared she knew that and then some. “So I do understand if you’d rather not. If you have ties to Fleuridia, family or…” I shook my head, having no idea what she had, “acquaintances you’d not like to be that far away from.”

“My family’s dead, milady.”

That was when I finally shut my mouth and stared at her.

I stopped doing that to inquire, “All of them?”

She nodded. “Mother, father, sister.”

Bloody hell.

“I…well,” I stammered, pulled myself together and asked, “If you wish to share, would you like to tell me how such a thing came about?”

“A bridge crumbled under their sleigh,” she informed me readily. “The sleigh fell through and somehow flipped as it descended. My father got free, but my mother and sister were trapped under it at the bottom of the river.” She shrugged as if this mattered little to her, but I could see the pink in her cheeks that seemed pronounced due to the sudden pallor of her skin. “My father died because he stayed in the water trying to pull them free.”

This was…

Well…

Unthinkable.

With naught else in my power to do, I simply whispered, “Josette.”

She shook her head like doing so could negate the pain of these memories.

“It was a long time ago. As I had an interest in music that they did not, I was at a concert at our Dwelling of the Gods with friends. A traveling choir that was quite good. They’d gone into town to have dinner at a local pub. The pub was known for excellent stew.” Another shrug and she finished, “At least they had a lovely last dinner.”

“Cease that nonsense,” I ordered and watched my maid blink.

“I beg your pardon?”

“This is horrific, this story,” I announced something she knew much better than me. “I know you wish to make little of it and move on, though I don’t know why, except perhaps you don’t want to trouble me with it, or you wish to deny the feelings you still feel about it.”

“Well, of course I don’t wish to trouble you with it. You have enough to concern you,” she replied ridiculously.

“And my maid who’s been loyal, hard-working and attentive, and these last days, exceptionally kind, having this history doesn’t concern me?” I queried with one raised brow.

After a careful pause, she reminded me just as carefully, “It hasn’t for years, milady.”

She was damnably right.

I lifted my chin. “Well it does now,” I stated crisply and continued in the same tone. “And I’m sad for you. Were you close?”

She nodded.

“Then that makes me even sadder for you,” I declared.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“Is this how you came to service, or was your family in service before you?”

“I was…well, I needed to find work. I was thirteen. It was an orphanage or service. I think I chose rightly,” she answered.

She’d been thirteen.

Yes.

Unthinkable.

“I’ve no idea if you did or did not but that matters not now,” I told her. “Here you are. In service to me. And there I’d like you to remain, with another maid for you to oversee and assist you as we travel over the Green Sea for whatever awaits us there.”

I found after making my proclamation that I was anxious to hear her reply.

Travel across the Green Sea was unusual because it wasn’t entirely safe. Indeed, travel anywhere wasn’t safe by land or by sea. Pirates. Highwaymen. Intemperate weather.

But from my knowledge (which was not vast), there were other dangers lurking along that passage.

In other words, this wasn’t your average adventure.

This was an adventure.

Therefore, I knew what I was asking, and these were partly the reasons why I was offering her a rise in salary but also every opportunity to break out of my service without any stress or concern about her future should she wish to decline.

I did actually think after my visit with my brother and his family and my back had healed enough to make the journey, rather than remaining in Lunwyn, which was now safe for me, that an adventure was just the thing.

But to embark on it with someone familiar would be beneficial.

And if I only admitted it to myself (for, even though I seemed to be sharing with alarming frequency), embarking on it with Josette would be beyond beneficial and maybe prove to make the journey and any ventures we had enjoyable.

“It would be an honor to go with you,” she said.

I was stunned by her ready acceptance (as well as heartened and perhaps flattered) thus had to fight the mad desire to cheer out loud.

Even so, I needed to be certain Josette was certain.

“And Fleuridia? Do you leave no one else behind? Friends? A lover?” I asked.

“No, milady.”

I narrowed my gaze at her. “You’re certain.”

She nodded fervently and it was then I noted a light of excitement in her eyes.

“Yes, I’m sure. Very sure.” She hopped a little on her cushion and reached out to grab my hands that were folded in my lap. “This might be fun!”

I looked down at my hands and barely caught sight of hers holding mine before she wrenched hers away.

“My apologies for the forwardness, milady,” she murmured as if I’d chastised her.

I looked back at her face to see she’d averted her gaze.

“Josette,” I called.

It took time but she eventually turned her attention back to me.

Or, to be exact, my nose.

“You’ve cared for my person for years. I do think it’s quite all right in a moment of excitement to touch my hands, don’t you?”

Her focus shot from my nose to my eyes.

“I…yes, if you don’t mind, milady.”

“I surely don’t,” I decreed then promptly stood because frankly, I’d had enough.

Truly, the ease of participating in friendliness and sociability was troubling.

“Would you like your nightgown, Lady Franka?” Josette asked.

“Yes, please.”

She assisted me in divesting me of my robe. She assisted me in donning my nightgown. She then assisted me putting my robe back on. She even saw to the unnecessary task of holding me steady as I slid my feet into my slippers. And she hovered close as I moved back into the bedroom.

Not done, she fervently plumped the pillows before I climbed into bed and threw the soft, woolen throw over my legs after I’d managed that feat.

“Is there aught else?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

She waited patiently but I could see that light of excitement still there in her eyes.

She did indeed like me.

She also liked adventure.

“Milady?” she prompted when I did not speak on.

“Do you hope we make Airen or would you rather we journey inland and seek Firenze?”

A gleaming smile spread on her face even as she shook her head. “I actually hope we find Mar-el.”

Mar-el, an island nation that was said to be heavily guarded, for reasons that were an even more heavily-guarded secret. An island nation where it was also said its citizens, who were deliciously dark of skin, actually spent the vast majority of their time on magnificent galleons wreaking havoc on the seas.

“Hmm,” I murmured. “I’d not considered that.” I tipped my head to the side. “We’ll have to put that on our agenda.”

“That’d be marvelous,” she breathed, her excitement visibly escalating.

I nodded, actually fighting back an indulgent smile.

Winning that, I beat back rolling my eyes…at myself.

“Indeed,” I murmured in a way I hoped she knew she was dismissed, but kindly.

Gods.

Perhaps I should allow Noc to call me the revolting Frannie and ask everyone else to do the same for it would seem I was Franka Drakkar no more.

“I’ll just see to sorting everything for the night,” Josette said.

“Thank you, Josette,” I replied, reaching for my book.

“No.”

At her peculiar response, I turned my attention back to my maid.

“Pardon?” I queried.

“No,” she said softly. “Thank you, Lady Franka. Thank you bunches.”

This put me in the awkward and unpleasant position of feeling emotion swelling up the back of my throat.

Fortunately, Josette was very good at her job.

So before I embarrassed myself (further), she turned on her slipper and scurried to the dressing room.

I looked down at my book but didn’t open it.

Josette was accompanying me across the Green Sea.

I allowed my lips to curl up minutely.

Marvelous.