Jesstin was seated beside Ellie on the lounger, with an acerbic glare at the fireplace. She kept trying to catch his attention, but he doggedly evaded her.
Good.
Taven was bursting to share the solution to their present predicament. He just needed to wait for the right time to reveal the idea they’d all otherwise reject.
Esmeray came flitting out of the kitchen with a tray of sloshing tea. “You must forgive me, Sir and Madame Edevane, for not being ready to receive you.” She paused mid-flurry with a muddled glance around the room. “It seems my daughter has spared me from further humiliation by freshening up.”
“Asterin is fine,” Asterin said with a courteous nod at the mug she poured him.
“Rhiain for me,” Rhiain said as she accepted her tea.
Asterin took a polite sip. “There’s no need for any formality, Baroness. We’re here as friends.”
“Friends, ah?” Esmeray searched for a place to sit, but everything was occupied. She rushed to the small dining nook and dragged a chair in. The wooden legs screeched against the stone floor. “It has been a good long while since I’ve had friends to Nightwood, but most don’t arrive shortly after dawn.” She dusted with her hands but didn’t sit.
“We have something we need to tell you,” Ellie said as she went to help. “You can have my seat.”
Taven hated her sounding so beaten, but she’d never trust his idea if he was the first to speak. She didn’t trust him, which was astonishing given his unwavering loyalty from the day they’d met in the Nightwood stables, when he was fourteen and she was eight. He’d never been with another woman, not even after he’d watched her marry a lord’s son, though maybe she blamed him for not doing enough to stop it. Even if he’d had the power, the clairsight was firm on the matter: she must marry Fabrien Quinlanden, and she must endure great suffering. But when her suffering was ended, she would come home, to Taven, exhausted and ready for his counsel, and they’d finally have the future he’d been promised since he’d run away from home.
“No, love, I’ll sit here,” Esmeray said with a distant look at Taven, one which had evolved as the years passed. More and more she seemed to be accusing him of something, which was unfortunate, but he wasn’t at liberty to explain things to her. He’d been expressly forbidden from telling Esmeray Hawthorne of Curia Eversong anything the clairsight had told him about Ellie. In fact, the one and only time he’d refused to heed the clairsight was when it had insisted he kill her.
“We’ll get right down to it then. My brother, Jesstin, was nearly hanged early this morning in Mythgarde,” Asterin said.
“What do you mean hanged? Not for helping Ellie the other night, surely?”
Asterin set his tea on the table and leaned over his knees. “I?—”
“Your twat of a stable hand made up a lie to get me killed, so I’d stop talking to his precious Ellie,” Jesstin snapped abruptly. “But then she invoked the spirit of her ancestors and here we bloody are.”
Everyone stared at Taven with the same how-dare-you expression, but it was the heathen they should have been vexed with. “You dragged Ellie from safety into a place full of men like Fabrien, like your father and brother. But you didn’t care about any of that, did you? She’s just an amusement to you, like all the others.”
Jesstin held up an arm as if it was shackled. “Bit more than that now, thanks to you.”
“Not for long, heathen.”
“You’ll mind your tongue or lose it.” Rhiain shot to her feet. “What is he doing here at all, Esmeray? Why is he free? Breathing?”
“No one’s forgotten.” Asterin grabbed her arm and coaxed her back down. “No one will.”
“When this is done...” Rhiain seethed.
“I know. You have my word this isn’t over.”
Taven had enough prudence to be afraid of both the Edevanes sitting across from him, but it didn’t matter. He’d be gone before they decided an appropriate vengeance for him.
“Please, please can someone just explain what’s happened,” Esmeray pleaded. When everyone looked at each other, she looked at Rhiain. “One mother to another, be explicit. I beg you.”
“It isn’t my story to tell,” Rhiain said. Her eyes narrowed on Taven. “But your daughter proved herself a hero today, and we’ll do everything in our power to help her fix what’s happened. Jesstin wouldn’t be sitting here if she hadn’t done a very brave thing.”
Esmeray, head shaking, turned toward Ellie.
Elloven took a contemptuous breath. “Taven conspired with one of the Ivory Virtues?—”
Esmeray cut in. “The what?”
“Nothing, Esme,” Taven said impatiently. “Certainly nothing Ellie should ever know about.”
“If I want your help, you’ll know,” Ellie retorted. She blinked slowly before returning to her mother. “These young women come from the Seven Sisters, like us. So do others in Mythgarde, which was shocking to me. Jesstin may have known, but...” She glanced his way. Her attempt again was resisted. “They consider the word of these young women to be above the law, and it was enough for her to have accused Jesstin. There was no trial, no chance for him to defend himself. They wouldn’t allow any witnesses to refute her version of events. The only voice that could challenge hers was another daughter of the curia, as they called them.”
