own life experiences should have been. “Never mind why. Just tell me.” She kissed him. “I want to hear about the ones who didn’t say no, too. Tell me everything.”
“Everything?” he asked, a bit querulously.
“Everything.”
He groaned. “Aye, girl, it’s a hard heart ye’ve geet,” he said, but still, he was obliging.
* * *
Any courtier who had an estate in the provinces sobered up, packed their things and went there. The staff relaxed; some of the new pages brought in for the ball were even heard to laugh occasionally, when they thought nobody could hear. The horses had more exercise and grazing and less unnecessary grooming. With fewer people to feed, the food brought up to their rooms was fresher. So was the air, since the laundresses from the fabric rooms had time to wash the drapes and tapestries, to drag the carpets and cushions outside and beat the dust out of them.
Elly and Gavin still had responsibilities, but their days started later and ended earlier. Since there were fewer courtiers around to meet in person, the Seneschal set Elly to memorize the ancestral lines of the most prominent highborn families, and Judah spent more than one pleasant hour sitting in the parlor with the terrace doors thrown open wide, drinking iced tea and checking Elly’s notes as the Tiernan recited generation upon generation of dead sycophants. The terrace itself would have been nicer, but Elly refused.
“Lepfield...ugh, they’re a city family, they go back forever. Temper, Joren, Evett, Robert the Greater, Robert the Lesser, Robert the Bad—those three are easy—and then Caber, and—oh, a bunch of others—and then that poor, desperate woman. What’s her name. Maryle.”
“I’m not sure ‘bunch of others’ is an acceptable answer. Why poor and desperate?”
“Because she has six daughters and a district with nothing to offer. At least Tiernan has sheep.” Elly shook her head. “Maryle’s husband actually joined the army, they were so poor. He died on that last Nali campaign, the rout. She cornered me at the betrothal ball after you left. Wanted to sell us one of her daughters, for Theron. I told her the second son never married and she said, ‘Oh, they wouldn’t have to marry.’ I didn’t know what to say. At least my mother held out for a marriage contract.” Elly looked genuinely pained. “The poor thing.”
Judah didn’t know if the poor thing was Lady Maryle, or her daughter, or Theron. Who still lived as in a dream, and rarely spoke. Sometimes Judah found him blandly studying the device that still sat in pieces on Gavin’s dressing table, but now that he was less likely to meet anyone who mattered, he spent most of his time wandering the halls. The staff skittered away for fear of offending him, not knowing that if Theron had ever had the capacity to be offended by staff—which was debatable—he’d lost it. Gavin didn’t think he’d come to any harm, so they let him wander. Like a cat, they trusted he’d come back. Like a cat, he generally did. Sometimes Judah had trouble remembering when he’d been any way other than unfocused and vague. She still thought it was her fault, the way he was now, but the pangs of guilt were less acute. A person could adjust to anything, given time.
Elly was reciting more names. Judah hadn’t been checking them off. She scanned Elly’s notes, trying to find her place, but then something slammed into her left arm. Rather, into Gavin’s left arm: with Elban’s guard gone, the House Guard was spending their training time wrestling, mostly for fun. Gavin wasn’t very good at it but he came home happy. The men in the House Guard liked him. He felt good when he was with them. He felt good in general, these days. Judah had not fully appreciated how eaten alive he’d been by anxiety until the anxiety vanished; he felt easy and relaxed, and as long as she kept all thoughts of Elban tucked away, she could be easy and relaxed, too. Except now her arm was numb, and half of her iced tea had spilled on Elly’s notes. The ink was running.
Elly handed her a napkin from the table. “He’ll be sore tonight.”
“I’ll take wrestling over practice swords any day. Those things sting.” Judah mopped tea from her dress.
“Speaking of swords,” Elly said cheerfully, “I saw Lord Firo yesterday.”
Puzzled, Judah said, “Why are you blushing?” but then she figured out what kind of sword Elly meant, and made a face. “Oh, Elly.”