The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [148]
“You little slut!” Bellyra snarled. “I hope he does the same to you. I hope he gives you twins and the three of you die of him. Get out of here! Get out of my sight!”
Lilli sobbed aloud and ran for the door. She grabbed the bar and tried to raise it, but she struggled, wrestling with its weight. Bellyra grabbed a silver goblet from the nearest table and for a moment stood, listening to her mind scream at her to stop and sit down. Rage twitched her arm, and she threw the goblet as hard as she could, with more force, it seemed, than she’d ever summoned in her life. It struck Lilli full in the back just as the girl opened the door. She shrieked and ran, leaving the door swaying on its hinges behind her.
“Oh gods,” Bellyra whispered. “What have I done?”
She sank into her chair and sobbed, rocking back and forth. She heard Elyssa mutter something to Degwa, then Elyssa threw her arms around her.
“Oh Lyrra, Lyrra,” Elyssa said, over and over. “It will be all right this time. We’ll make it all right this time.”
The tears stopped at last. Bellyra wiped her face on her sleeve and looked over Elyssa’s shoulder. Degwa was gone and the door shut.
“I wanted to kill her,” Bellyra said. “And it’s not even her fault.”
“Isn’t it?” Elyssa said. “But truly, that was a bit much of a queenly gesture, heaving the royal silver at her, I mean.”
Elyssa smiled, trying to turn a jest, Bellyra supposed. In a few moments Elyssa let the smile fade and settled back on her knees. Bellyra leaned back in her chair and watched the dust plumes waving in the draughts. She still felt as if she viewed a picture of herself; she had merely turned the page in that hypothetical illuminated book.
“There are the herbs and suchlike,” Elyssa said at last. “We’ve all heard the old women talking—”
“I know, but I can’t do that.” Bellyra shuddered, shaking her head. “Not to Maryn’s child, I just can’t.”
“They could kill you, too, anyway, those herbs, if they went the least wrong.”
“Oh, I’m mindful of that. Never fear.”
With a sigh Elyssa stood and stretched her back with her hands on her hips. In the fire a log burned through and dropped. Glowing coals flew onto the hearthstones. Elyssa hurried to the hearth and knelt, reaching for the poker. Bellyra watched her flicking the coals back into the fire.
“I’m really going to have to apologize to Lilli, I suppose,” Bellyra said at length. “That goblet must have stung.”
“She’s young.” Elyssa glanced over her shoulder. “She’ll survive. And you’re the princess. She has no right to an apology from you.”
Bellyra was about to agree when her detachment deserted her. A wave of fear turned so cold that she nearly vomited.
“Oh ye gods,” Bellyra whispered. “What if she tells Maryn?”
She could not talk, she could not sit upright, she curled over herself and twisted in the chair until she lay sideways in it like a child sore from a beating. The wood bit into her side and legs; she curled the tighter and wept.
“Goddess help!” Elyssa came rushing over. “Lyrra, don’t, don’t!”
She heard the door open, heard Degwa call out in alarum. She felt their hands on her arms, let them raise her up, let them help her stand, but still the tears came in long sobs.
“If she says one wrong word to your husband,” Degwa said, “I’ll beat her black-and-blue, and I’ll wager she knows it, too. I gave her a good talking-to, I did.”
Tears and more tears—even in the midst of them Bellyra found herself thinking: so this is what shame feels like. No wonder the men would rather die than be shamed. With the thought, with the distancing it brought her, she could stop weeping at last. When Degwa brought her a rag dipped in cold water, she took it with a muttered “my thanks” and wiped her face methodically, starting at the eyes and working outward in a spiral.