“Dottie, shut the door!” Denise squeaked. She’d been lying on top of her bedcovers but pulled them up as if the whole court was craning their necks out in the hall trying to see inside.
I shut the heavy door quickly behind me and found all the women—minus Meg and Ariana—already in nightclothes, the bottoms of their shifts tied up around their knees, drawstrings undone, hair braided and wound upon their heads. It was easy to see why—it was hot. No, it was more than hot—the room was sweltering. The stone walls of the castle had baked in the late sun and the tiny windows were no match against the oven.
“Maybe we should leave the door open. Get some airflow,” I suggested.
Lu scoffed. “And let the men see us all humid-like?” Her red curls threatened to escape their bounds.
I was eager to change out of my own clothes. The splint mail came off in pieces. I hoped I’d remember how to assemble it in the morning. I stashed it under my bunk, and then tied my own nightgown up around my knees and pushed the sleeves over my elbows. I retrieved a ponytail holder from my toiletry pouch and pulled my hair back. There was a pail of water at one end of the room I’d seen the others use and I splashed some on my face and smoothed my hair. I’m sure my brown strands were frizzled as well.
Then I flopped on my bed, already miserable from the heat.
Compared to the gossip and buzz of last night, there wasn’t much chatter. Several of the women waved feathery hand fans. Only one lantern burned—no one wanted an iota of extra heat.
Sweat pooled between my breasts. I touched it absent-mindedly. My neck was damp, as well as my thighs. I fanned my nightgown out in several great gusts, but it only moved already warm air around. I couldn’t stand it. How people survived without AC, I didn’t care to know.
“I can’t do it,” I said, “Does anyone want to sit outside on the castle walls?”
“The battlements?” Lu asked. “I’d have to dress again, and I’m not putting those sweaty clothes back on.”
The others seemed to agree.
“Well, I’ve got to get out of here,” I said. I didn’t care if anyone saw my pajamas.
At the end of the hall, there was a promise of airflow. I climbed a set of nearby stairs and emerged on top of the castle wall. Torches and fires littered the darkness of the village set in the base of the great hill. A few voices carried distantly, and I thought I heard a strand of notes from a lute, but they were gone as quick as they had come. I leaned back against the wall, the blocks still warm from sunset, then sank to my bottom and pulled out my hair tie, letting my hair fan around my shoulders.
I ran through the events of the day in my mind. Despite my earlier despair, the distraction of the armory and especially the water helped. I was anxious once again to honor Sherry Whitehorse’s intentions now that I realized my actions were already impacting the story. I’d significantly shortened the ghostwriter’s battle campaign. With no need for Ironclaw to go south and Amédée already retreating, the book could focus on cozy plotlines and romance once again.
My biggest issue was Ironclaw was looking more and more like a dead end.
I spun through a few ideas and then dozed until I felt a hand push hair back from my face. I flinched.
“What are you doing out here, Lady Mayfair?”
“It’s Dottie,” I murmured and opened my eyes to find Lord Draw. His black hair was untied and fell to his shoulders.
“Lady Dottie,” he said uncertainly.
The instant embarrassment at my appearance cut through my grogginess. If anything, I was angry he was still dressed in his gray robes, belt,andsash despite the heat of the night, as if that was a comment about my own weak constitution.
“Why are you wearing clothes?” I blurted.
“Clothes are the custom around here. We’re not all attention-seekers.”
“The Maidens’ Chamber had to be over a hundred degrees. The windows are only as wide as my head.”
“Measurement by head. Hmm, we’ll have to implement that across the queendom. But first, come, let’s get you more water.Rainwater,” he assured me.
I went easily enough—we were going to have to talk openly at some point, he and I—and recognized the way to his room. The glass on his windows were pushed open on hinges. For all the good it did, it was just as overheated at the Maidens’ Chamber. The fireplace was dark, but he lit several candles before handing me a wrap of fabric—obviously to preserve some scrap of my moral character. I reluctantly pulled it around my shoulders and Draw poured me a cup of water. I slumped into the chair I had sat in the previous night and drank the entire cup in one go.
Instead of refilling it, he stood, looking me over shrewdly. I resisted folding my arms around myself but sat a little straighter. I couldn’t do anything about the dampness that had grown across my torso and I wasn’t going to untie the knot around my knees in front of him.
“You plan to depart with the host tomorrow?” he asked. I frowned, and he hurried on. “It’s only that castle life seems to be pushing you enough and life on the roads of Landsome are vastly more unpredictable. Perhaps you should follow behind once the main camp is laid—”
“You think the queen would let me out of her sight? Besides, I’ve got to go where the story takes me.”
“Yes, your theory....” His tone was polite enough, but there was an edge to it. He settled into the opposite chair. “I’ve been thinking about that all day.” His voice dropped to a mutter. “I should take you to a medic. Or would a cleric be better?”
“I’m not crazy,” I insisted, “but I am sorry I told you. That was a lot for me to put on you. That kind of statement could only have made you feel...”
