it was so good, and I just kept picking at it."
"Aye, well, you saved his life by that action, but nearly lost your own. You were terribly sick."
"Oh," Murie sighed. "Well, I do not mind so much. 'Tis better to be ill than lose my husband."
Emilie smiled faintly. "Balan was most concerned. Sick as he was that night, he dragged himself to your side. Mind you, he fell unconscious directly afterward, but not until he had reached you."
"Oh!" Murie breathed.
"And then, the next morn, he took you up on his horse before him for the last part of the ride. Reginald and I said that we could wait until you had recovered to continue home, but he wanted to get you indoors and to Reynard where my maid, Marian, could tend you."
"Marian." Murie smiled at the name. The woman had cared for Emilie since she was a child and was very knowledgeable about medicinals and such, but she'd also been terribly kind to Murie whenever the two had met at court. Murie had been sorry when the woman announced that she was far too old to be making the journey anymore, and had ceased accompanying her mistress. That had been the year before Emilie married Reginald. The maid had eventually moved to Reynard, but that was the last move she'd made. She now stayed at Reynard all the time. "How is she?"
"Getting old," Emilie said on a sigh. "It scares me to see how paper thin her skin is getting and how fragile she grows. I fear I shall lose her soon."
"Nay," Murie said with certainty. "She is a strong woman. She will live to see all your children born - and perhaps even their children as well."
"I hope you are right," Emilie replied.
They reached the privy and fell silent, Emilie waiting outside while Murie attended her needs. She then helped Murie back up the hall, but as they neared the stairs, Murie said, "I am hungry."
"That is a good sign. After I help you back to bed, I shall find you something to eat."
"I do not want to go back to bed," Murie announced stubbornly. "I want to be up and visiting with you."
"Perhaps later," Emilie suggested.
"But I want to visit with you now."
"Then I shall sit with you," Emilie said patiently.
"Balan is sleeping in our room. We cannot visit there. Can we not go below? I could see more of your castle that way." Emilie's lips began to twitch, making Murie narrow her eyes.
"What is it?" she asked.
"I had forgotten that when you were sick was the only time you truly lived up to your reputation," Emilie said with amusement.
'You were always a poor patient."
Murie made a face but didn't deny it. She'd always found herself impatient with illness, not wanting to be held back by it. Perhaps because she knew others would see it as yet another weakness and a good opportunity to launch further verbal assaults.
"Very well." Emilie led her to the top of the stairs and paused there to call out, "Reginald! Pray, come help me bring Murie below."
Lord Reynard had been seated at the trestle table in the hall, but he was on his feet and up the stairs in a trice. "Should she be up?" he asked his wife with concern as he paused before them.
"Aye, she should," Murie snapped. He was ignoring her as if she were too ill to make up her mind for herself!
One eyebrow arching, amusement tugging at his lips, Reginald shrugged and scooped her into his arms to carry her downstairs.
"Very well, but you shall be the one to explain to Balan when he gets up. He will not be pleased, I am sure. I know I would not be, were Emilie up and about so soon after being so ill." Murie scoffed. "Then I suspect you will find yourself annoyed with her every time she is ailing, because Emilie is no better a patient than I, if I recall correctly."
Reginald chuckled, his chest vibrating against her side, and Murie smiled. She added, "Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you love my friend and are a good husband to her?"
"Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you did not ask the king to have me drawn and quartered for marrying her and stealing her away?" he returned.
Murie scowled over his shoulder at his wife. 'You told him about that?" she asked with embarrassment. She'd been most distressed to learn her