Spindle and Dagger - J. Anderson Coats Page 0,6
gown that must have cost a small fortune, and her veil is crisp and tidy and perfect. Her cheeks are pink, like Margred’s.
This isn’t how I planned our meeting. I pictured somewhere quiet. Private. Somewhere I could be of help. I’m not good in a crowd. But now’s my chance, and I’ve been practicing since I learned I’d have this moment.
A greeting, friendly but not too familiar.
A gracious thanks for her hospitality.
A witty, lighthearted observation about the lunacy of this family that’ll make her grin and take my hands and say something like I feel the exact same way.
Isabel glances at Cadwgan, then me, then at his hand still gripping my elbow hard enough to sting. Then me again, without looking away. Her face is blank like a pond on a still morning.
This is the first time I’m standing before Owain’s stepmother, and I’m trading harsh words with her husband, who’s holding me suspiciously close, and I cannot muster the sense God gave a goat to explain myself.
My throat chokes up. I can’t even babble. But then Isabel silently peels Cadwgan’s hand off my arm and leads him toward some guests by the hearth. Neither of them looks back.
Cadwgan was ready to throw me out of the hall. All she had to do was move aside and let him, but instead she stepped in. She did it with grace and tact, in a way no one else could, so Cadwgan could save face and I could walk away.
Isabel just helped me.
By the time this feast is over, she and I could be chatting every day, sharing a hearth bench and giggling over wine. By summer, we could be friends. By this time next year, the idea that anyone in Owain’s family might think to show me the smallest discourtesy might be a distant, unpleasant memory.
I KEEP SNEAKING GLANCES AT ISABEL NEAR THE hearth, hoping she’s sneaking glances at me. If she is, I can’t tell, since Cadwgan’s back is blocking my view. The feast will last till Epiphany, and that’s se’ennights from now. Plenty of time to invent a reason to pass the hours together, and I’ll be damn sure it won’t be when I need something from her.
For now, what I need is somewhere to stand so I don’t look like a child banished to the naughty corner. Cadwgan expressly forbade me to sit with Owain at the high table, and I’d just as soon avoid his temper. Margred’s still safely in the maidens’ quarters. If Isabel was anywhere but next to Cadwgan, I could —
Owain catches my eye with a smile I know very well, then makes a showy gesture to the empty place at his elbow. So he’s decided to start stirring the pot early this year and make his father the first target.
Well. I can still hope for fewer black eyes, I reckon.
When I reach Owain’s side, there’s nowhere for me to sit. The place at his right is clearly Cadwgan’s even though it’s empty, and Owain’s cousin Madog has taken the spot at his left. I try hard to think well of Madog because he’s Margred’s brother, but tonight he makes that extra difficult as he glances me up and down, fold and drape, slow and deep and hungry.
“You some kind of warbander, honey? You gonna cut me?” Madog’s mug is half full, but it can’t be his first, for he’s thisclose to being out of turn.
Owain catches my hand, kisses my palm, then lifts his brows at his cousin. “When was the last time you looked twice at a woman in the shadows, whether she hid a blade in her skirts? Shove down.”
Madog grumbles but moves enough to make a place for me at Owain’s left. I sit, then reach for an oatcake and break it into crumbs that I line up in neat rows. Everyone watched Owain beckon to me. The nobles, their wives, every servant down to the cupbearers. They watched Owain bid Madog move. They’re all watching me and muttering behind their hands and speculating.
Owain loves it when they speculate. He says the more they’re guessing about me, the less they’re watching what he’s doing.
“You ought to take me on as penteulu when we ravage south into Dyfed.” Madog reaches across me to poke Owain’s shoulder with the butt end of his meat knife. “I’ve never been in a warband that had its own whore.”
I keep crumbling. As speculations go, that one is definitely not new, and anyone who spends even