Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit - Mercedes Lackey [41]
He turned his gaze down on Little Gwen again. “I would have thought you had learned your lesson by now, but I see that you have not. Perhaps your hands are too idle. Perhaps you need more work to do.”
Little Gwen stared up at the king, her face blank.
Bronwyn compressed her lips tight. “That may be so, my Lord King,” she said. “Perhaps some kitchen work?”
Little Gwen made a faint sound of protest. The king ignored her. “Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps she will learn that churlish manners lead to being set among the churls.”
Gwen winced. She knew that above all things, Little Gwen was proud. Being put with the lowest servants to do the most menial of tasks would be an agony to her.
The king turned to Cataruna and put gentle hands on her shoulders. “As for you, my daughter, go and break your fast well. We are pleased and proud that you are going to the Ladies; master your Blessing, become wise and true, and return to take your place at the queen’s right hand, first among your sisters. I shall be with you anon to bid you farewell.”
Cataruna’s lower lip trembled a trifle with emotion. “Thank you Father,” she said. “I will not fail you—”
The king chuckled slightly, and chucked her under the chin. “Now come, it is no more than a matter of lessons and learning, which we both know you excel at! You are not going off to battle but to something I think you will find a pleasure!” He gave her a gentle push in the direction of the hall. “Now go, for I am sure Bronwyn has managed something special from the cooks for you.”
Cataruna ducked her head in a quick curtsy and turned, whisking her skirts as she slipped under the door curtain. Gwen took the opportunity to follow her.
“What was that about?” she asked, as one of the maidservants intercepted Cataruna with a platter heaped with good things, obviously being saved for her.
“I knew there would be a pother last night,” Cataruna replied, as Gwen got a wooden platter and took bread and butter, cheese and carved cold meat from last night’s dinner. “You know how Little Brat hates it when a fuss is made over anyone but herself, and there was a double fuss after dinner. Mother asked me to sit beside her, and when they weren’t all talking about what I could expect to be learning from the Ladies, they were all talking about the baby. I could just see Little Gwen starting to get that look she gets when you know she’s going to do something.”
Gwen nodded; she knew that look all too well.
Cataruna shrugged. “I expected trouble from her last night, and I think perhaps Bronwyn did too. And maybe Mother. When we went to bed, Bronwyn gave us all possets to drink, and Little Gwen went straight to sleep. Bronwyn and I were able to pack my things in peace.”
“If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have slept outside,” Gwen said ruefully. “I wanted to think a while, and I didn’t want the brat poking and prodding at me.”
“Well, I wish Bronwyn hadn’t done that, because she was awake far too early, and the first thing she did was to tear into my packs.” Cataruna made a face. “Poor Gynath. You’re off with the squires all the time. Pretty soon you’ll all be made into a real warband, and you’ll all be doing everything together. It could even be that you’ll be out in the Great Hall with them, to sleep, and she’ll be the one left to deal with the Brat.” The eldest of the king’s daughters sighed and ate some bread dipped in honey. “I am not going to miss that.”
“Are you going to miss any of this?” Gwen asked curiously.
“Truthfully?” Cataruna nibbled pensively on her bread. “I don’t think so. I don’t make friends the way Gynath does, none of the boys here make me want to kiss them, I truly will be glad to see the last of the Brat, and until now there was nothing really special about me except I was the eldest.”
Gwen blinked, wondering obscurely if she ought to feel hurt by such a revelation. But she and Cataruna were too far apart in age to have been close—
“Until now,