“I can’t imagine anyone not liking you,” she said without thinking, because her mind was still in the western woods. Then she realized what she’d said and blushed. He turned away to hide a grin and she knew he was trying to be kind, which just made it worse. To be standing here, chatting about animals. She couldn’t stay anymore. She left.
* * *
She had barely pushed open the parlor door before Elly snatched it away from her. Judah could smell the fumes from the rush oil clinging to her, and her blue eyes were bloodshot—after finishing the rushes, she must have spent the rest of the morning reading in the Lady’s Library. “Oh,” Elly said, disappointed. “I thought you were them. They should be back by now, shouldn’t they?”
“I don’t know.”
Elly wrapped her arms around herself. “Did you eat? There was food, but I made them take it away. The smell. I can get more.”
“I’m fine.”
“Judah.” She sounded desperate. “Something is wrong.”
Judah remembered Gavin the night before, laughing and smiling at all of them through the blackness growing inside. She forced a curious smile. “What makes you say that?”
“Oh, don’t,” Elly said, impatient. “Gavin can get away with that. You can’t. You’re bad at it. And I don’t know. Everything. Theron on the hunt. You. The courtiers I see in the hall. The way the girl who came to get the lunch tray looked at me.” Her lips pressed together. She grabbed Judah’s hands and held them tight. “I feel like there’s something everybody knows but me. Is it that stupid woman? Is she pregnant?”
“I don’t think so.” Judah had no idea.
“But there’s something,” Elly insisted.
Her eyes were intense, pleading. Judah wanted to tell her—it seemed only fair, since the rest of Elly’s life was at stake, too—but what was the point? If the hunt went the way Elban wanted it to go, if it didn’t, there was nothing either of them could do. They were powerless, Elly and Judah both. They could only wait. “Nobody tells me anything, Elly,” Judah said wearily.
Elly let go of Judah’s hands and sank down on the sofa. “Furniture,” she muttered, and Judah said, “What?”
“Furniture.” Elly’s voice was dull, frustrated. “That’s how my mother told me to think of myself when she sent me here. Furniture, to be moved from one place to another as it suited.” She picked up the deck of cards. “Come on, Jude. There’s no point in brooding. Let’s play cards.”
When the girl brought the dinner tray, Judah jumped up so quickly at the sound of the door that she was dizzy. The girl was nervous. Elly asked her if the hunt was back and she mumbled, “Don’t know, Lady,” and fled.
“Well, that was helpful,” Elly said.
“They’re back,” Judah said.
“How do you know?”
The dizziness hadn’t subsided. It was worse, even. Judah’s hand went to the chair for support. “Because Gavin’s getting drunk.”
Elly cursed. Which almost never happened. “That idiot. Sit down before you fall down.”
“No.” Judah held up her bandaged hand. “He’s not allowed to hide from us. He and I have been through this.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No,” Judah said. “Stay here. What if Theron comes back?” And she left.
Outside, she wheeled around a corner and felt like her head was spinning on a different axis from the rest of the world. Being Gavin-drunk was different from being drunk herself: when her own body was drunk, numbness filled her like water. When Gavin was the one doing the drinking, the confusion only rose partway, and the clear, sober part of her tossed wildly like a boat on its surface. This was how she felt every night Gavin spent with the courtiers. When she knew to expect it, it could be sort of enjoyable. Tonight, it made her angry.
By the time she reached the stairs, something unfamiliar was edging out the haze of alcohol. She pushed open the door just enough to slip through. The door’s latch clicked and the noise broke in her ears. Her steps felt too big. She was suddenly unsure of the floor. Putting a hand to the wall to steady herself, the stone felt soft under her fingers, almost luxurious.
In her tiny boat on top of the maelstrom, Judah saw, in her mind’s eye, a crystal vial, passed from pale delicate hand to pale delicate hand. This was what the drops felt like, then. She marveled, dimly, that the courtiers managed to take them and do anything else.