It confused me because it inferred she had been here without him.
Pol never let me go anywhere without him.
Apollo was not Pol, but it wasn’t easy getting places here and it wasn’t like this village was around the corner and she could just hop in a sleigh, come here for tea and be back for dinner.
Since he seemed okay talking about her, I ventured, “Did she come from around here?”
“We lived most of the year at Karsvall.”
That didn’t un-confuse me.
“Are you saying she’d travel without you?”
“Frequently,” he replied, and that surprised me.
He looked away, took a sip from his wine and again contemplated his boots but he kept talking.
“I’ve many enterprises, and due to them, travel widely. Sometimes, she would come with me. Sometimes, she’d stay here. Usually, when she stayed here, it was because there was someone in need of her care. And she would travel from Karsvall somewhat broadly in order to do that, a days’ ride away. Even three days’ ride.”
Curiosity at his words pushed me to ask, “Someone in her care?”
He again looked at me. “She was a physician.”
Oh boy.
Dear, departed, pined for, beloved, fabulous Ilsa was a doctor in this world.
I had a Bachelor of Arts degree with a major in medieval history. My last job was as a salesperson in the handbag and accessories department of an exclusive department store. Other than that, I hadn’t worked, or done much of anything, for nearly twelve years.
I felt something lodge in my throat and forced around it, “That’s…um, impressive.”
He looked back to his boots and murmured, “She was, indeed, that.”
I took a sip of wine and looked anywhere but him, not liking what I was feeling. Also not entirely understanding it, but definitely knowing I didn’t like it. It wasn’t pain, but it still felt like an ache.
He seemed unwilling to move in order to, say, go back to the hotel and put me out of the misery of this conversation.
And I felt uncomfortable sitting there staring at the floor so I asked conversationally, “Is it usual for a woman in this world to be a doctor?”
“No,” he told his boots. “A midwife, yes. An herbalist. A plant healer. Even an apothecary. But a physician, no.”
I nodded even if he wasn’t looking at me.
He said nothing.
“Uh…just saying, I thought you mentioned Ulfr women didn’t work,” I noted.
“I’ll amend that,” he again told his boots. “She worked, and she was dedicated to her work, but she didn’t get paid.”
A doctor who didn’t seek payment?
I thought it but I didn’t ask it.
He didn’t share further.
I took another sip of my wine, thinking of Ilsa gallivanting across the snow, doing good deeds as I leaned back in my chair and tried not to focus on anyone giving me strange looks, on Apollo, on anything (including Ilsa doing good deeds) as I worried my lip.
Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore so I looked back to him and saw his profile had set back to broody.