I shook my head. “No, thank you. I’ve had some wine tonight. And I, too, am pleased to meet you.” I pulled my slightly damp waves over one shoulder.
“He did not tell you he had a twin, did he?” Anwyn said, topping off his cup.
I looked to Alric before answering, but he looked into his own whiskey.
“More importantly,” Anwyn went on, “is that a vial of lightleaf oil on the desk and is it yours and if it is, can I have some?”
I smiled. “It is and you can.”
Alric sat back down and muttered something. Then he stood up abruptly and gestured at me to sit in the chair. Anwyn misread his movement and took his twin’s place, unstoppering the vial to drip into his cup. Alric rolled his eyes and went to lean against the fireplace.
Anwyn looked up from his cup and said, “Thank you! Edith or Edie?”
“Edie is fine,” I said, not knowing where to stand. I undid my belt and apron, lifting them off of me by the sagaris.
Alric stepped in front of me and took them off of my hands, having set his cup on the little mantle first. He hung them over a spare hook on the far-right wall. “You can hang these here,” he said. “Instead of on the chair at night. Anwyn, give her the chair.”
“Oh, my manners are atrocious,” said Anwyn standing, grinning at his twin.
I stuttered a thank you and took his place in the chair.
Anwyn, standing next to his brother, turned to me and said, “Have you plans for The Rush of Flowers, Edie? Our family tends to drink at Fletch’s wife’s brewery.”
I nodded. “My fellow… the other women and I plan to visit it in the evening.” I wanted to say fellow Ecclestonians, but we were now Tintarians.
“Come to the forge first,” Anwyn exclaimed. “You have to meet our other brothers. And their wives and all of their infernal brats. Our father wants to meet you.”
“Anwyn,” Alric said, his tone full of warning.
I glanced from twin to twin, uncertain what Alric was saying to Anwyn. I said, “I cannot, but thank you for inviting me. I have to help a friend with an errand.”
“A friend with an errand?” Anwyn asked.
I explained to him about the throne room’s mural and Helena’s need for dye.
“She can come to the forge when you are finished! We will want to meet her as well. Thatcher is like another brother to us. When are they to wed?”
“Anwyn,” Alric said again. “It is enough that you will see her that evening.”
The door burst open and Perch and Thatcher came in, each with a tin cup, Perch also with a jug. They both stopped when they saw me in the chair, but chinked their cups with Anwyn’s and started regaling him with his twin’s earlier training yard exploits.
“I have asked you to knock,” Alric said, but they spoke over him.
“You’ve come to outfit Hinnom with a new sword?” Thatcher asked.
“Unless you speak the creed, stop using his first name.” Alric pinched the bridge of his nose.
As if his brother had not spoken, Anwyn went into smithing details about a sword with a shark’s tooth design he was making for the king. Perch complained that no common swordsmen would be able to afford anything from the Angler forge anymore.
I sat with my hands in my lap and watched them speak loudly but felt Alric’s eyes on me. He was intent, taking in my drying hair and my freshly washed face. He straightened and said, “Thatcher, can we gather in your room? I believe Edith is tired.”
They stopped speaking and stared at me and then at Alric.
Anwyn stepped towards the desk, collected the jug and leaned in, kissing my cheek. “I will see you at The Rush of Flowers, new sister.” In a whisper, he said, “I can see why he could not bring himself to kill you.”
Alric, likely unable to hear the second part of his twin’s words, glared at Anwyn.
The four of them left, shutting the door behind them, leaving me to wonder at this new aspect of my spouse. He had a family, a brother that seemed to love him. Alric had been correct. I was tired. I put on my nightgown and lay in the bed, but did not sleep. Hours later, in the dark, I felt my husband’s body in the bed next to me.
