“You question this offer. You assume that this may not be a good placement. A good mother worries. All mothers do, but the best ones never stop.”
Eefa began to shake her head. “Do not try to change my mind with your scholar’s flummery. I won’t go along with it. I’m not like the others.”
I walked the remaining steps between us and took her arm, pulling her towards me. I put my mouth against her ear and whispered. “If you do not take this, Eefa, they may give you kitchen work or you will clean privies. Your grandmother is too old and you could lose the child. You are not that far along and you need to be careful. I know you do not care for me and that is understandable. I do not mind your words. But consider.Please. For your grandmother and for your baby. For their sake.”
She stayed silent and did not argue. Bronwyn stepped forward grabbing her grandchild’s other arm, saying, “We appreciate it, sir,” nodding over my shoulder at Fletch. “Be glad to work at your family’s establishment.”
“We would be glad to have the help,” I heard the man say.
“I will have someone deliver them tomorrow,” Zinnia spoke to him. “Lady, who shall I bring in next?” Her eyes alighted on me and I caught sympathy in them, and while I hated pity, I appreciated that hers seemed genuine.
I dropped my hand from Eefa. I needed to see someone who loved me. “Mischa.”
26. Occupations
Heat on my cheeks, I turned to face the room, walking back to my place behind the empty chair. I knew my chest was pink above the square neckline. My eyes shot to the prince and I focused on his polite face, refusing to look at another. “Mischa is a gifted translator and scribe. She speaks and writes in all the continent’s dialects and languages. Her mind would be wasted on any kind of house craft. I am sure, sire, there is work for her to put her talent to use.”
Mischa did not speak all the languages, but she could read and write in most and I would be damned if she was given some job emptying chamber pots or scrubbing privy chambers. Zinnia had mentioned each level of the keep had several and they emptied into cesspits along the bluffs that were washed out by high tides.
“She sounds impressive,” said the prince, but his eyes looked at me in a pointed manner and I knew Eefa’s outburst was on his mind.
“She can work for me,” interjected Jeremanthy, gaining a turned head from everyone. “We need translation now more than ever.”
Perch said, “Should we allow an Ecclestonian to see our armies’ movements?”
Thalia sighed almost dramatically. “My goddess, man, who in hell will she tell if she even does see anything worthwhile? They’re far from their city now.”
Perch sat up. “Priestess, I mean no disrespect, truly, I do not, but this woman is troublesome and I could see her willfully misinterpreting—”
“Quiet!” Thalia interrupted. “Can we get this over with? It’s late. I’m tired. I want some wine and I want to put my feet up. I’m sure Jeremanthy knows what he is about.”
Perch gave her deferential nod, happy to show her his piety.
Mischa walked into the room with her head held up, meeting every single of their gazes. Sidling next to me behind the chair, she peered over the chair’s back at the prince. Then she looked at me and sensed my distress. Her hand grasped at mine. “Did you tell them I can translate and scribe?”
“Yes, I did,” I answered, a warning in my tone. She must show the prince some kind of acknowledgment. “His highness, the prince, has graciously offered to make use of our individual skills.”
Picking up my message, she turned to Peregrine and bobbed her curly, golden head. “I thank you, sire.” She wrinkled her pretty snub nose but only briefly.
I could tell her self-importance amused him. He seemed to be the opposite of his brother, steady and composed. “Of course, lady.”
Jeremanthy explained his need, that she would report to his offices in the keep and being seen as keep staff, would be allowed to remain in the dormitories like Catrin.
I could tell Mischa had no interest in working for the general of the Tintarian infantry, but she was no simpleton. She was clever, our Mischa. She knew this was the most physically undemanding position she could get.
“Thank you, general,” she answered, that stubbornness hidden under acquiescence.
“You can begin the day after tomorrow,” the old soldier said, nodding.
“And whom shall we position next?” asked the crown prince to me.
“May we speak of Maureen and Helena?” I asked, my eyes darting between he and Zinnia. “I do not think they need to leave the dormitory. Helena is currently indisposed. I would not take her daughter away from her. I believe neither needs to join us. And, sire, may we, perhaps, find placement for both so as not to separate them?”
I noticed Thatcher sit up straighter at my words.
“The woman is unwell?” Peregrine asked.
“She will recover shortly, sire. The girl is like a niece to me, her mother my own sibling. I know them well, their character and their talents. They worked as illuminators in the scriptorium. Both are formally trained.”
