Nat was still unconscious, but these places weren’t very far away. And—as long as I was being honest with myself—I had to admit it wasn’t as if Nat needed or wanted me here.
“I’ll go today,” I said. “With some of my men, if they can be spared.” They had been working hard on the rebuilding effort.
“Of course,” the King said. “And when you get back, you must take whatever rest you need.”
As we left the bridge, a twisted piece of illustrated paper fluttered in the brisk wind and landed by my feet. Glancing down, I saw the word “monster” and froze. Was this a new broadside about me? Despite all I’d done, did people still see me as a horror, a freak?
With dread, I picked up the sheet.
The King had turned away to have a word with Sir Christopher, who had caught up with us. “About those sketches . . .”
Flattening out the paper, I saw the title plainly: OUR ANGEL SLAYS THE MONSTER. Beneath it was a woodcut of a singing woman with wings, slaying a fearsome beast. A scan of the lyrics revealed that the woman with wings was meant to be me.
I stared at the title again. Angel? Monster? Whatever they called me, it had nothing to do with reality. The truth was far more complicated.
Shaking my head, I crumpled the paper. Maybe I couldn’t stop other people from judging me, but I could stop looking to them for approval. Maybe most people would never be able to accept me for who I really was—not the broadside makers, not the Court gossips, not even Nat—but I didn’t have to follow suit.
I could still decide to accept myself.
I held up the crumpled paper and let the brisk November wind take it from me. As I watched the paper fly away, I felt lighter than I had for a long time.
It took me five full days to set things to rights in Gravesend and Tilbury. I couldn’t resent the time I spent there—the people were too grateful, and they were in desperate need—but I was glad to get back to London.
My men and I came into the city in the small hours of the night, on the incoming tide. When we reached St. James’s Palace, only the guards were up, and even the torches were giving up the ghost.
“I think we’ll wait till the morning to make our report to the King,” I said to Captain Knollys after we passed through the gatehouse. “You and the men should try to get a little rest before then.”
Knollys raised a graying eyebrow. “And you?”
Just behind us, Barrington piped up, “Chantress, would you like an escort to your rooms?”
I had to smile. He was ready to drop, I knew, but he was loyal to the core. They all were.
“Thank you, Barrington, but it’s not far. I’ll be fine on my own.” I held up my hand as they started to protest. “All of you, get some sleep!”
After parting from them, I made my way toward the rooms I shared with Norrie. When I reached our courtyard, I hesitated.
I couldn’t see Norrie’s windows from here—they were on the other side of the building—but the infirmary window was in plain sight. And Norrie and Penebrygg had kept a light burning there even in the darkest hours.
There was no light there now. Did its absence mean Nat was—
Not letting myself even think the word, I ran up the stairs and knocked on Norrie’s door, softly at first, and then louder.
At last I heard footsteps coming. Norrie pulled back the door. “Who—” she began, and then she saw my face. “Oh, child, you’re back at last!”
She dragged me over the threshold and steered me through the darkened room. “We’ve been waiting and waiting. The most wonderful news—”
She opened the inner door. There was Nat, standing by the window, wide awake.
CHAPTER FORTY
MANY WATERS
“Lucy.” Nat came forward, with a note in his voice that made me tremble.
Norrie backed into the outer room, murmuring something about mending. The door closed, and Nat and I were shut in together. I stared at him, hardly able to believe my eyes.
He stopped well short of me. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” I said quickly. “It’s just . . . you’re awake.”
He smiled. “Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Almost three days now.”
“And you’re well? You’re not feverish or injured or—”
“I’m fit as can be,” he assured me. “The only trouble is that I’ve been waking very early. I suppose it’s because I’m all caught up on sleep.”
There were