“Not at all. Freddy is a good person, and Kysta is a lovely country. They are valuable allies to maintain.”
“Spoken like a woman in love,” Mormor commented dryly.
“Oh hush, Mormor,” Norva chided over her shoulder. “You know that political marriages rarely involve affection.”
“Well, they should. After all, as I always say, ‘Marriage is the heart of the home.’ If the king’s own home is in disrepair, how on earth is he to be expected to look after the state of the country? That war between Brisia and Cabriole, for example—that all was started because the Brisia’s queen was sneaking around with some Cabriole noble.”
“I heard it was because Brisia got greedy and wanted to expand their borders.” Norva returned to her seat, bracing herself against the arms as she lowered down.
“By first seizing the land of his wife’s lover.” Mormor clucked her tongue. “Make no mistake, the war was coming eventually, but it was issues from within his marriage that dropped the first blow.”
Norva leaned forward and began pulling out shoots to start a new basket. “But back to your situation, my dear. If your fiancé is a good man, as you say, why didn’t you just go to Kysta? It would have been a much shorter journey, not to mention the weather is much more enjoyable this time of year.”
“We did not part on the best of terms. We were meant to be married earlier this year, but there were some unusual circumstances that caused the ceremony to be interrupted. My father took offense, and we left. I have not spoken to him since.”
Mormor nodded wisely. “Ah, a lover’s quarrel. You worry he is too proud to offer you assistance? Too fickle?”
“No.” Lizzie shook her head. “Freddy is more loyal than a puppy, and he would give the shoes off his feet to helpsomeone if they needed it.” Even without her emotions in the way to muddy the waters, Lizzie couldn’t deny the truth of the statement.
“You seem quite sure of this.”
“We’ve known one another since childhood.”
Norva hummed thoughtfully. “Do you findhimhandsome?”
“Almighty bless you, Norva. Looks aren’t everything.” Mormor shook her head. “As I always say, ‘Often is an ugly heart hidden behind a pretty face.’”
“But she just said that his heartispretty. Perhaps the reason she avoided Kysta is that he’s quite unfortunate-looking.”
Both women turned to her with expectant, inquisitive expressions.
Lizzie saw no reason to answer in any way but truthfully. “He’s handsome.”
Norva clapped her hands and squealed like a schoolgirl. “Tell us more. But wait just a moment,” she added as the whistle of the tea kettle interrupted. She handed Lizzie a steaming cup, and the green, slightly bitter smell awakened her senses.
“Now then, what is he like?” Norva leaned forward eagerly. “Is he dark and handsome, like your Norditch-speaking friend?”
She pictured Freddy’s blonde head, bleached even lighter by his time in the sun, and his ocean-blue eyes. “The opposite.”
“Is he serious and solemn?”
“No. He’s the type of person who is friends with everyone.” Lizzie sipped her tea. “He smiles more often than not.”
Mormor narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand you, Eliza. You speak of this handsome, genial, kind-hearted fiancé with less enthusiasm than Norva speaks of her rhubarb plant. Something isn’t right here, and I’m not just talking about your basket attempt.”
Lizzie looked down at the sad, lopsided bundle of willow in her lap.
Yes, this is clearly not a marketable skill.
“Mormor, be polite. Perhaps Eliza simply wishes to keep her feelings to herself.” Norva paused for a moment, then added. “Though you certainly don’t have to hide them on our account. It’s been so long since we’ve experienced the joy of young love that it’s nice sometimes to live it vicariously.”
“There is no love.”
“Oh.” The old woman seemed taken aback. “But I thought you said you knew one another as children.”
“We did.”
“But then—”
