"Why don't I know more about my nobles?" she said. "Why are there hundreds of lords and ladies I wouldn't recognize if they walked through that door?"
"Lady Queen," said Thiel gently, "it's our job to prevent you from having to deal with every small matter."
"Ah. But as you're so overwhelmed with my work," she said significantly, "I think it best I learn what I can. I should like to know their stories and reassure myself that they aren't all mad like Danzhol. Are we three alone again today?" she added, then clarified, needing to force the point, "Is Rood having nervous fits and Darby still drunk?"
Runnemood rose from his perch in the window. "What an inconsiderate thing to say, Lady Queen," he said, sounding actually hurt. "Rood cannot help his nerves."
"I never said he could," said Bitterblue. "I only said he has them. Why must we always pretend? Wouldn't it be more productive to talk about the things we know?" Deciding there was something she wanted, needed, she stood up.
"Where are you going, Lady Queen?" asked Runnemood.
"To Madlen," she said. "I need a healer."
"Are you ill, Lady Queen?" asked Thiel in distress, taking a step forward, reaching out a hand.
"That's a matter for me to discuss with a healer," she said, holding his eyes to let it sink in. "Are you a healer, Thiel?"
Then she left, so that she wouldn't have to see him crushed—by nothing, by words that shouldn't matter—and feel her shame.
WHEN BITTERBLUE STEPPED into Madlen's room, Madlen was scribbling in symbols at a desk covered with papers. "Lady Queen," Madlen said, gathering her papers together and pushing them under her blotter. "I hope you're here to rescue me from my medical writing. Are you all right?" she asked, taking in Bitterblue's expression.
"Madlen," said Bitterblue, sitting on the bed. "I had a dream last night that my mother refused to let my father take me away, so he hit her. Only it wasn't a dream, Madlen; it was a memory. It's a thing that happened over and over, and I was never able to protect her." Shivering, Bitterblue hugged herself. "Maybe I could have protected her if I'd gone with him when he asked. But I never did. She made me promise not to."
Madlen came to sit beside her on the bed. "Lady Queen," she said with her own particular brand of rough gentleness. "It is not the job of a child to protect her mother. It's the mother's job to protect the child. By allowing your mother to protect you, you gave her a gift. Do you understand me?"
Bitterblue had never thought of it this way before. She found that she was holding Madlen's hand, her eyes full of tears.
Finally, after a while, she said, "The dream didn't start out bad."
"Oh?" said Madlen. "Did you come here to talk about your dream, Lady Queen?"
Yes. "My hand hurts," said Bitterblue, opening her hand and showing it to Madlen.
"Is it serious?"
"I think I was holding my sword too hard at practice this morning."
"Well," said Madlen, seeming to understand. She took Bitterblue's hand and explored it with light fingers. "That sounds easily mended, Lady Queen."
It did mend something, those few minutes of Madlen's gentle touch.
ON HER WAY back to her tower, Bitterblue encountered Raffin in the middle of the hallway, peering worriedly at a knife in his hands.
"What is it?" asked Bitterblue, stopping before him. "Has something happened, Raffin?"
"Lady Queen," he said, politely moving the knife far away from her and, in the process, nearly poking a passing member of the Monsean Guard, who jumped away in alarm. "Oh, dear," Raffin said. "That's just it."
"What's just it, Raffin?"
"Bann and I are taking a trip into Sunder, and Katsa says I must wear this on my arm, but I truly feel the danger is greater if I do. What if it falls out and impales me? What if it flings itself from my sleeve and lodges in someone else? I'm perfectly content poisoning people," Raffin muttered, pulling up his sleeve and holstering the knife. "Poison is civilized and controlled. Why must everything involve knives and blood?"
"It will not fly out of your sleeve, Raffin," said Bitterblue soothingly. "I promise. Sunder?"
"Only briefly, Lady Queen. Po will stay here with you."
"I thought Po and Giddon were taking the tunnel into Estill."
Raffin cleared his throat. "Giddon isn't desirous of Po's company just now, Lady Queen," he said delicately. "Giddon is going alone."