Perch was sitting next to Thatcher, laughing and called out words I could not hear.
Alric’s head swiveled towards them and he must have said something disciplinary.
Both men tilted their heads upwards.
I realized they could see me through the window.
Alric turned and looked up at me, hands on his hips.
A younger Edie would have been flustered and pulled away from the window. But I held his gaze for a moment. I gave him a half smile and turned back to the property tax documents Hazel had given me to decipher for her. Though I was once a professional scribe, it was tedious and I was surely not focused now.
That night I pilfered some linens, oils and soap from the women’s baths and washed my hair in Gareth’s hidden bath. I craved privacy. It had been another day of civil service in the antechamber. My hair needed washing and every time I went to the women’s baths on my own, without any of the other women, the Lady Vinia always seemed to be lounging there and watched me. Or would approach me, nude and without embarrassment, and ask how my new citizenship went. Her questions were innocuous and feigned a casual interest, but she seemed to need to know all she could of me. Catrin told me she did the same to her and always steered her inquiries to Catrin’s knowledge of me. Catrin was becoming a true friend, much like Quinn and River, and she reported all of this. I wanted to ask Hazel or Zinnia if they knew why this beautiful noblewoman wanted to know me.
I washed my hair and soaked in the little bath, sitting on the step afterward, wringing it out and combing it. I had acquired, from Zinnia, a much better comb than the tin one I now used as a bookmark. Rubbing the lavender through my hair, I heard the rumble of men’s voices through the left wall, but I paid it no mind until I recognized Thatcher’s. I got out of the bath and put my ear to that wall.
“Your lady wife saw you deck that big fisherman. You should try your luck tonight.”
I could barely hear Alric’s reply, but it sounded like, “please. I beg of you.”
“She be a comely woman, Alric,” said a voice I did not know. “There are worse punishments. King could have killed you. Or made you marry someone hideous. But that Eccleston woman—”
“Can we bathe? I am a man in want of a bath,” Alric asked.
“He is cleaning himself up so he can swive later on,” Perch added.
I had gathered there were four of them, but a fifth unknown voice said “I agree. There are worse things. And her figure would make any man think improper thoughts. Even your captain.”
“Especially our captain,” Thatcher chimed in. “Alric loves bosoms. I myself prefer—”
“You prefer Helena,” Perch cut him off. “We know. Her hair is like midnight and her ass is like a siren’s serenade. On and on. It’s like you’ve never seen a woman before.”
“Can’t help myself, lads. I think I’m in love,” Thatcher proclaimed, on the edge of another of his boisterous laughs.
A splash of water hitting flesh sounded. Perch said, “Get a hold of yourself, man.”
I found myself warming more and more towards Thatcher. Perhaps, in the future, there was a chance for Helena to find some semblance of happiness in Tintar. I chided myself on not bringing him up to her anymore. She would have to decide for herself whether or not her betrothed could be more than the twisted outcome of a political abduction gone wrong.
43. Anwyn
I dried off and dressed in my cyan dress, hair loose and wet around my face. I made my way to the dormitories. Helena was napping in her bed, but sat up when I patted her leg and moved over to accommodate me. Mischa had obtained a wine made from fermented peaches from the kitchens and was passing out tin cups of it, hers and mine with lightleaf oil. Maureen and Catrin carried on about an end-of-spring festival that was being held on that week’s rest day in the Pikestully city center that honored The Farthest Four. Apparently, there would be dancing and drink. Catrin suggested we visit Bronwyn and Eefa at their brewery. Helena asked me if I would accompany her on the morning of this holiday to visit a dyer who sold gemstones and root vegetables with which she could add to her pitch for color. I told her I would go. River chimed in that she was excited to witness her first Tintarian holiday. Mischa commented that it was likely a savage affair. In lowered tones, Quinn and I discussed how much Tallowgill River had left. A daily dose was needed, and she had enough to last her the rest of the moon, but not much more. I promised her we would continue to pool our pay every moon and get her a jar. Quinn looked worried, but I assured her. All our needs were met. River’s health was a priority.
As the sun set through the windows, I walked back across the landing and went to knock on our door, but heard Alric’s voice through the wood saying, “Vinia keeps trying to speak to me. I told her if it was not about Opal, there is no purpose in it. What else can I say to her?”
“What does she expect?” came a man’s reply in a voice that was unknown.
“I am wedded to Edith. I cannot— I do not know, Anwyn.”
Involuntarily, I knocked loudly. My heart was skipping in my breast. My friends had been right. He knew Lady Vinia and they had likely once been lovers.
The door swung inside, and the ginger-haired man who had sat in the back of the temple on our wedding day and had winked at Alric stood in front of me, a tin cup in his hand. Behind him, in the desk’s chair, sat my husband, also holding a tin cup. A clay jug sat on the desk.
“I was hoping it was you,” said the man. He reached out and took my left hand and kissed my ranunculus tattoo. “Pleased to meet you, sister. I am your brother-in-law. And may I say, you possess the scent of a goddess.Andyou look like one!”
I blushed and blinked at him, lost for words. He was taller and broader than his brother. Alric’s sharp features were set in his face in a more inviting arrangement, the thinness of them more aquiline and less severe.
Alric stood, looking at anything but me. He said, “Edith, this is my twin brother, Anwyn.”
“Whiskey?” Anwyn said, reaching for the jug.
