When at last she emerged, Aylin clothed the ghost of a girl in a deep blue dinner dress. The maid used her magic to ring the water from the countess’s hair before she brushed it smooth. “How would you like me to style it?”
Hevva shook her head. “It’s fine like this.”
Aylin inclined her head in agreement, then began smoothing Hevva’s hair into a simple, low bun at the nape of her neck. It wasn’t actually fine as it was, and her maid was astute enough to handle the situation.
“Will you dine with me tonight?” she asked softly.
“Of course, my lady.”
So, they descended together, as friends rather than employer and employee.
During their second course of chicken and plum pudding, two young women from the village bustled into the dining room and were soon seated at the table beside them.
“I simply cannot believe it,” the blonde one lamented.
“Oh, me neither. I heard he is very handsome. And I know he would never consider someone likeus,from here...”
“Quite.” The blonde’s tone was solemn.
The brunette sipped her wine. “Mother says I should look for a nice, titled young man,‘Elevate the family.’”
“Mine does, too.”
“But how are we to dothat,”the brunette whined, “when the eligible titled gents are all getting engaged to the eligible titled ladies?”
The blonde shrugged. “I hardly think either of us had a chance with King Hethtar anyway. But he seems sonice, and to hear he is betrothed to the daughter of anearl,it just makes you think: What hope is there for girls like us?”
“I could not agree more. It is such a shame.”
Hevva blanched and choked on a bite of her supper. The deadened, energy consuming wound in her chest throbbed painfully before spewing forth a torrent of unmanageable emotion. With it came the coughed-out words, “I am not feeling well.”
Aylin dipped her chin.
They retreated to their room, and the moment the maid closed the door, Hevva sank onto her knees. Great sobs wracked her slender body as she pressed her head down into the carpet.
Abruptly, Hevva stood and fled into the washroom where she dropped back to her knees to have a retch into the commode.
Aylin stepped up behind her and drew back the countess’s hair. She held it in place while Lady Hevva emptied the contents of her stomach.
“I must have had some crab.”
“Of course you did, my dear.”
The final morning oftravel dawned gray and grew darker as the day bore on. They were about two hours from Stormhill, more if the storm got worse. Then, the skies opened up in earnest, and the storm did in fact get worse.
“Aylin?” Hevva asked shakily, her forehead pressed against the glass as she watched the rivulets rush down the pane. They were about three hours from Stormhill, less if the weather got better.
“Yes?”
“How long have you been with Thera?”
“Oh, well over twenty years now,” she replied with a dreamy smile as she thought of her beloved wife.
“And how did you know?”
“That I wanted to marry her?”
“That it was love.”
