At the next bend, two scullery girls passed by with a bucket between them. They saw her and dipped their heads, still walking, the way trained hands do when every minute matters.
“Good evening, me Lady,” one said.
“Aye,” Erica said. “Mind yer backs.”
They smiled, a blink fast, and were gone.
The ordinary motion steadied her more than any speech might have. She was not a tale here. She was work to do and rules to hold. She would be that and let the rest die in the corner where she had left it.
The kiss was a mistake, and that was as much attention as she was going to give it. If she starved the moment of thought, it might disappear, and she may not even remember it anymore.
She reached her door and stopped to take a breath. This part of the castle was even colder and darker than the others. She made a mental note to remind a maid or guard to have more lights around here.
As she reached out to twist the knob, a shadow moved at the far end. A maid stood there, the slight one from the gardens.
Erica narrowed her eyes. No, that wasn’t Leah. It was someone else. Someone she didn’t recognize. At least not yet.
“Do ye need anything, me Lady?” the maid asked carefully, ready to fetch or be scolded if she had chosen the wrong moment.
Erica looked at the sprig, then at the maid. The choice came clean. She needed to root herself in something she could hold.
“Aye,” she replied. “Fetch Leah.”
The maid nodded and scurried away.
Later that evening, Leah lit a taper and set it on the small table by the bed. The chamber was quiet. From the window, the inner yard looked like a square of dark, the well a darker ring inside it.
Erica stood with her hands on the sill and watched the shape of the space all around her settle for the night.
“Shall I bank the fire, me Lady?” Leah asked.
“Aye,” Erica said. “Leave a small glow. I rise early.”
Leah moved with quick care. She checked the jug and set a clean cup beside it. She folded the extra blanket at the foot of the bed.
“What soaps do ye like?” she asked lightly. “We have rosemary and plain lye for most. If ye prefer lavender, we can fetch it from the stillroom. Or if ye want a scent from the market, I can ask for it on the appropriate day.”
“Rosemary is fine,” Erica said. She kept her eyes on the yard and felt the small comfort of the question. “If the stillroom can spare it. Daenae trouble the market.”
“It is nay trouble,” Leah assured her. “I run errands for me aunt sometimes. I can pick it easily.”
Erica turned a little. “Truly, it isnae necessary. I can manage without. Thank ye for asking.”
Leah’s mouth curved. “Aye.” She smoothed the top sheet. “Do ye want a warm stone for yer feet?”
“I am warm enough,” Erica said. “Thank ye, Leah.”
“Aye.”
“Sit a moment,” Erica said, turning to face her fully. “Ye have been on yer feet since I saw ye in the garden.”
Leah glanced at the door and then sat on the edge of the chair. “Only a moment,” she said. “Morag will call me if I linger too long.”
“Tell me how the night runs here,” Erica demanded. “I watch, but I would rather learn from a mouth that kens.”
Leah settled her hands in her lap. “Curfew bell at ten,” she said. “Gate barred then. The yard guard turns on the hour. Calum?—”
“Calum,” Erica repeated.
