Genevieve gave a moment’s pause to look to Simone. “Will you be alright, darling?”
Simone opened her mouth to insist that, nay, she certainly would not be alright, but eerie words flooded her brain and flowed out of her mouth instead.
“Aye, milady. I’ll be just fine.” Simone slapped a hand over her mouth.
Genevieve did not so much as blink, but set off for the upper chambers.
“Alright then, lass,” Minerva said, rummaging through the discarded supplies scattered around Handaar. “Let’s get him cleaned up and warm.”
Simone lowered her hand from her mouth. “You made me say those words! Just now, and before you even arrived!”
“Aye, I did.” The old woman fetched Simone’s discarded rag, wrung it out, and began wiping at Handaar’s face. “I couldna get through faery’s thick skull or I’d have used her.”
Simone sat stunned as the old woman continued the chore. “Who are you?”
“Kin, of a sort,” Minerva replied, dunking the cloth once more. “Give me that cake of soap.”
Simone grabbed the bar and handed it to Minerva. “Are you the one who is to help me with…with my brother?”
“Not if you do naught but sit about chewin’ yer own teeth,” the old woman said, her black eyes flicking to the pile of rags.
Simone seized one of the cloths and began mopping Handaar’s chest.
“How did yer brother die?” Minerva asked conversationally.
“He was trapped in a stable fire, along with my mother.”
Minerva was quiet for a beat of time. “But yer mum, she doesna come to you?”
“Nay.”
Within moments, Handaar’s body was wiped clean of blood and dirt. He seemed to be resting peacefully when Minerva reached for the black fur throw and covered him. She looked to Simone with a weary-sounding sigh. Simone noticed that the old woman’s costume bore not one speck of red, although Simone—as well as Haith and Genevieve—was covered in Handaar’s blood.
“It shan’t be pleasant,” Minerva warned. “He’ll be bound to me, and once we begin it, we canna stop. I”—Minerva glanced down at Handaar—“I doona know if I’d have the strength to start again. It’ll likely be more of a trial for you than you think.”
Simone shivered. “I understand.”
“Do ye?” Minerva asked quietly.
After a moment, Simone shook her head. “Nay.”
Minerva looked across the hall as if someone had called her name. “I’ll be finding my chamber now,” she said, turning back to Simone and gaining her feet with a groan. “Stay with the laird until faery or I return. Call out if he wakes.” She grabbed up her odd satchel and walked toward the stairs, her unburdened arm held akimbo, palm out.
“Come on then, lad.”
Simone’s confused frown left her face when a silvery streak flew over the flagstones. Didier appeared at the old woman’s side and took her hand. He glanced over his shoulder at Simone, giving her a sad little smile and an open-fisted wave as the pair left her in the hall, alone.
Chapter 20
Simone still sat at Handaar’s side when Haith reentered the hall, her gown fresh, her hair damp, and her babe on her hip.
“Simone, my God!” Haith stalked to stand over her. “Where is Minerva?”
Simone gave a deep, shuddering sigh and began to rise from the floor. “She went above with Didier. I think to—”
“I’ll have her leathery hide for a bag, leaving you like this,” Haith growled.
“Nay, Haith.” Simone reached out a hand to touch Haith’s arm, but when she saw the brown stains covering herself, she let it drop. “She left only a moment ago. Rail not at her.”
