She unclenched her jaws and wet her lips. “Hurry,” she pleaded in a gasp.

“I will, little one. I will.” He stood up, and then said gravely, each word solemn, “Our mothers bless you for what you endure. Damn these Farseers and their stiff-necked ways. And damn those dragon-breeders.”

The Narcheska rolled her head back and forth on the snow bed. “I just...I just wish I knew what she wanted. What she expected me to do about it, past what we have done.”

Peottre had begun moving about the room, looking for something to carry snow in. He had picked up and rejected the washbasin. Now he took up the Narcheska’s cloak. “We both know what she expects,” he said harshly.

“I am not a woman yet,” she said quietly. “It is against the mothers’ law.”

“It is against my law,” Peottre clarified, as if his will were the only one that mattered in this. “I will not see you used that way. There must be another path.” Unwillingly, he asked, “Has Henja come to you? Has she said why you are tormented like this?”

Her nod was a jerk of her head. “She insists I must bind him to me. Open my legs to him to be sure of him before I leave. It is the only path she believes in.” Elliania spoke through gritted teeth. “I slapped her and she left. And then the pain became fourfold.”

Anger froze his features. “Where is she?”

“She is not here. She took her cloak and left. Perhaps it is to avoid your temper, but I think she has gone into the town again, to further her cause there.” Elliania’s teeth clenched in a smile. “Just as well. Our position here is difficult enough without having to explain why you’ve killed my maid in a fury.”

I think her words recalled him to practicality, even if they did not calm him.

“It is well that slut is out of my reach. But aren’t you a bit late to counsel me to restraint? My little warrior, you have inherited your uncle’s temper. Your act was not wise, but I cannot find it in me to rebuke you for it. That empty-souled whore. She truly believes that is the only way a man can be bound to a woman.”

Unbelievably, the Narcheska gave a small laugh. “It is the only one she believes in, Uncle. I did not say it was the only one I knew. Pride may bind a man, even where there is no love. That is the thought I cling to now.” Then her brow clenched in pain. “Fetch more snow, please,” she gasped, and he nodded sharply and went out.

I watched him go. Then she sat up slowly. She scraped the melting snow into a narrower pallet. The tattoos on her back stood out as glowingly as ever. Around them, her bared flesh was bright red from cold. Gingerly she lay back down on her snow couch. She took a breath and lifted the backs of her hands to her brows. I recalled that one scroll had said that was how Outislanders prayed. But the only words she said were “My Mother. My Sister. For you. My Mother. My Sister. For you.” It soon became a toneless chant in time with her breathing.

I sat back on my stool. I was trembling, as much with awe at her courage as pity for what she suffered. I wondered what I had just witnessed and what was the significance of it. My candle had burned down to half its length. I took it up and slowly climbed the rest of the stairs to Chade’s tower room. I was exhausted and downhearted and sought familiar comfort somewhere. But when I reached there, the room was empty and the fire gone out. A sticky wineglass stood empty on the table by the chairs. I cleaned the ashes from the hearth, muttering to myself at Thick’s neglect of his duties, and built a fresh fire.

Then I took paper and ink and wrote down what I had witnessed. I coupled it to the previous interplay I had witnessed between Elliania, Peottre, and the serving woman Henja. Plainly the last one was a woman to be watched. I sanded the fresh ink, tapped it off, and left the paper on Chade’s chair. I hoped he would come up to the rooms tonight. I reflected again, bitterly, on the stupidity that he refused to let me have a way of contacting him directly. I knew what I had witnessed was important; I hoped he would know why.

Then I reluctantly went back down the stairs to my own chamber. There I stood for a time, in silence, listening. I heard nothing. If Jek and Lord Golden were still there, they were either sitting silently or they were in his bedchamber. After what she had implied about me, that did not seem likely. After a time, I eased the door open a crack. The room was darkened, the fire banked on the hearth. Good. I had no wish to confront either of them just now. I had, I decided, words to say to both of them, but I was not yet calm enough to say them.

Instead I took my cloak from its hook and left Lord Golden’s chamber. I would go out, I decided. I needed to be away from the castle for a time, away from all the interconnecting webs of intrigue and deceit. I felt I was drowning in lies.