chunks of the watery interior came away with it. Her hands were dripping juice onto the plate, yet she dared not wipe or lick them. Seeing the mess she was making of it, Thomas grew ill-tempered. “Useless girl, give me the damn fruit,” he barked, and taking it from her platter, recomposed himself to a more gentle manner, bowed to his daughter, and handed her a new plate with the pulpy fragments upon it. “For you, my dear,” he said grandly. “Now don’t eat the skin, that dry rind, but suck from it the moist innards.”
Daphne picked up one of the least mangled fragments and tasted the pulpy flesh. “It’s good!” she cried, and both Thomas and Beth applauded happily. She tore into it, then another piece, then another.
“For the price of one of these, I can feed a soldier of my guard for a month,” Thomas told her.
Daphne sucked the juice from every segment, licked the plate, and demanded eagerly, “Give me another.”
“That’s two soldiers,” Thomas hooted delightedly.
“Let me unwrap it myself this time,” she said. “I want to lick my hands, and not waste so much as a single drop. Beth, you look so funny, with your hands wet with juice, yet afraid to wipe them. Lick them, go ahead.” The servant girl looked doubtful, but Thomas scolded her to do as told, and she timidly touched her sticky fingers to her tongue, immediately curling her lips and making a bitter face. Daphne laughed. “Perhaps you got the sour part, for I’ve tasted nothing but sweetness.”
Thomas handed his daughter her second orange. “It might be easier if I slice it for you,” he suggested, pulling his table knife from its sheath.
“No, no,” Daphne protested. “You’ll spill the juice, and a knife shouldn’t be licked. There must be a way to do this, so as to keep the segments intact, and the juice trapped within.” She applied herself to the job, while Thomas watched closely. Meanwhile a guard ushered in Lady Sylvanne, followed by Mabel.
Thomas greeted Sylvanne excitedly. “Ah, there you are at last. I called for you because the oranges have just arrived. Have you ever tasted one before?”
“Never,” Sylvanne replied. She met his gaze, and he was surprised to find that her eyes were placid, not the churning seas of rage he had come to expect.
“No, I shouldn’t have thought so. Well here is your chance—you may have one if you like.”
“No thank you,” she said softly. “If I partake, there’ll be one less for your daughter.” Inwardly, she almost gagged on the words. But she could see that Thomas was quite taken aback by them.
“If these do the trick, I’ll get more,” he told her. “For some reason I’m feeling generous, and want to share them. What about your maidservant? Mabel, would you care to try one?”
“I—I don’t know, Sire,” said Mabel cheerfully, unable to hide her pleasure that such a nobleman would remember her name.
“Have one,” he commanded.
“But I’ve never tried one, Sire.”
“Go ahead,” he urged, holding out an orange to her.
Mabel looked to her Mistress for guidance, and Sylvanne, forcing herself to smile, nodded her permission. So she took the orange from his hand, brought it to her mouth, and bit it, unpeeled.
“No no no, my good woman, you have to peel it first,” Thomas laughed. “It’s not an apple. Here, watch my daughter—she already seems to be getting the hang of it. The goal is to separate peel from fruit without spilling any goodness from it, but to be honest we know as little as you about how to properly accomplish such a thing. So, while you and she conduct your experiments, I’ll take the opportunity for a private word with your Lady.”
To his surprise Sylvanne seemed amenable to the idea. He led her to a smaller dressing room off the main room, leaving the door open so that there would be no hint of impropriety.
“You’re very cooperative today,” he told her.
“I’m the same woman,” she replied. But she looked and sounded different to him—in every previous meeting she had snarled at him through clenched teeth, her body tense with hostility. Now it seemed as if she were, if not exactly comfortable, at least making an effort to be a good and gracious guest. He wondered at the change but did not press her for an explanation as to its origins. Instead he simply allowed himself to be pleased by it.
“By now you’re familiar with the way in which I need to address