The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [153]
“You absolutely must! Do you want to let the black humor take you over now and ruin even more of your life?”
“I don’t, truly. But—”
“There’s no arguing with me, Your Highness. You need to get out into the open air.”
“That’s the simple truth, isn’t it? You’ll not be argued with. I might as well give in, I suppose, and save us a squabble.”
“How sensible you are.”
Bellyra laughed.
“There’s another thing, Your Highness,” Nevyn said. “May I speak freely?”
“Whenever couldn’t you?”
“Well, it’s a delicate matter. About Lilli.”
Bellyra jerked her head to one side and stared into the fire.
“I’ve not seen your apprentice in some days.” Her voice sounded too high, too brisk. “She doesn’t come to the sewing in the afternoons.”
“She doesn’t?” Nevyn said. “She told me—well, no matter.”
“I think me we both know where she is at those times.”
“Imph. I take it you don’t miss her.”
“I don’t. But I feel like such a fool for being angry with her.”
“If you are, you’d be a greater fool to deny it.”
Bellyra shrugged. She had gone pale, he realized, and fine sweat beaded her upper lip. He waited, but she sat staring into the hearth in silence. The fire hissed as it covered a damp log with a curl of flame, and she tossed her head with a shudder.
“Your Highness? Shall I leave you?”
“It would be best. But I promise you I’ll take your advice.”
As Nevyn left the women’s hall, he saw Lady Elyssa standing at the end of the corridor. She’d wrapped a shawl around her shoulders against the chill.
“Good morrow,” he called out. “Are you waiting for—”
Elyssa held a warning finger to her lips. Nevyn said nothing more until he joined her on the landing.
“A word with you?” Elyssa said. “Indeed, I was.” She paused to glance down the stairs, then spoke quietly. “No one’s about. Good. This guard our prince has given our lady, Maddyn his name is. You know him, don’t you?”
“Quite well, actually,” Nevyn said. “Why?”
“I was wondering what manner of man he was.”
“A good one, I’d say. If it weren’t for these cursed wars, he might have been a first-rank bard.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Elyssa pursed her lips briefly. “His character. Is he reliable? Decent?”
“Most assuredly. Here! You don’t suspect him of being slack in his duties or suchlike, do you?”
“Not in the least.” Elyssa paused for a bland smile. “I merely want to ensure our lady’s safety.”
“Well, naught’s going to happen to her here in her husband’s dun.”
“My dear Nevyn, there are dangers that can come upon a woman no matter where she is.”
“Well, that’s true. You can trust Maddyn to deal with them.”
Elyssa dropped him a curtsy, then hurried back to the women’s hall. Now what was all that about, I wonder? Nevyn thought. No business of mine, most like.
Lilli was in her chamber, reading over the dweomer passage Nevyn had set her to study, when Branoic called her name and knocked on the door. She went stone-still, wondering if she should pretend to be gone. The knock came again, and she rose.
“Do come in, Branno!”
He opened the door and stepped in, shut it again and leaned back against it, his hands behind him, as if he were pinning them against the wood to keep them under control. For a long moment he looked her over with eyes so cold that she began to tremble.
“I just had a bit of a chat with the prince,” Branoic said at last. “He warned me off you.”
“He did what?”
“Told me to leave you alone. That’s not the bargain I thought we had, you and I.”
“It’s not! He’s got his gall. Branno, you don’t think I agreed to that, do you?”
All at once he smiled. He straightened up and walked into the chamber.
“My apologies,” Branoic said. “The way he put it, I thought you knew, you see.”
“Naught of the sort! He promised me we could marry, and I never thought he’d go back on his word.”
“Oh, he talked about the marriage, all right. He’s found a grand demesne to settle upon us, says he. The one that guards the bolthole. He’ll rebuild the dun next summer, says he, in grand style, and we