The marcus rose, pushed the bowl and spoon in front of Orval, and with a backward step, vanished into the shadows.
“Orval! I know you don’t like me to use the inner door, but—” The door to the kitchen opened and a woman stepped in, dressed in gauzy fabrics of green and gold, with her hair decorated with spangles. Tiny bells rang as she closed the door, focused on Orval. “Have you heard? Queen Kara and Xywellan are killed on the battlefield, and the Wyverns are—”
She stopped dead, staring at Amari. “Who’s this, then?”
Chapter Six
Orval’s heart surged to his throat as he struggled to rise, his leg cramping. “Madam Winter,” he said, then stopped and cleared his throat, trying to stall, to think of what to say.
The older woman had brought a cloud of perfume in with her, as well as her bright silks and the rattle of bracelets and bells. The silence of her abrupt halt was jarring. As was the stunned look on her face.
Echoed by Amari’s expression, equally startled, although her gaze seemed focused on Winter’s wrists.
Orval cleared his throat, resorting to old customs. “May I introduce—”
“Stop.” Madam Winter raised her hand. “I don’t want to know. I have enough drama with my ladies downstairs. I came through the inner door to tell you the gossip and you were at your books. I have seen nothing else.”
“And what is the gossip?” Orval asked carefully.
“The news is flying through the streets. The Airions have fallen in battle. The Wyverns are securing the city with an advance force and proclaiming their victory.” She sniffed. “There’s to be a triumphant procession in the morning, with Xyrath and his Queen Satia entering the city in all their glory. They’ve declared a holiday for all. What comes after is anyone’s guess.” Winter’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Amari.
Orval glanced over. Lara yawned, releasing Amari’s nipple. He took the babe, leaving Amari a free hand to deal with her son. He turned back, the naked infant in his hands.
Winter stared.
Nervously he placed the little one back on the table, intending to wrap her, fumbling to find a cloth big enough.
The silence grew.
“My thanks for the news,” Orval said, desperate to fill the void. “I don’t—”
“No, you don’t, do you?” Winter demanded. She stepped over, pushed him aside, and with a deft hand swaddled the babe. “Cover your shoulder,” she said. “This one needs burping.”
“Oh, er,” Orval lifted the little bundle to his shoulder and gingerly started to tap her back. “Of course she does.”
“Of course,” Winter snorted, and stared at Amari. Dalan had finished nursing and was now in her arms.
Amari lifted her chin. “We can see to the care of my twins,” she said, her voice trembling.
Winter lifted an eyebrow and then swept past him, to the inner door. “Orval, I don’t know what trouble you are bringing into your home, but leave me and mine out of it. I will go the way I came. Be sure to bolt that door after me and keep it locked. Trust that I will bolt my side.” She paused at the door jamb. “Two things.”
“Yes?” Orval asked.
“Your sister’s clothes would fit her,” Winter nodded toward Amari.
Orval’s stomach knotted. “And?” he snapped spitefully.
“If you are trying to pass those children off as twins, don’t let anyone see that birth cord.” Winter snorted. “At least, no woman. And for the love of all that is holy, don’t feed them that crappy pease porridge you live on.”
She closed the door behind her with a quiet thud.
“That was three things,” Orval grumbled as he glared at the door.
Vren emerged from the shadows. “What do you think she knows?” He asked, a blade in his hand and his quiet voice suddenly filled with menace.
“Madam Winter has thrived in this city a long time. She has a strong sense of survival coupled with an edge of paranoia. She is a friend,” Orval said firmly, his heart still racing. “A passage runs from her inner chambers to my storage room. Go and bolt that door.”
Vren paused in the doorway to look at him. Orval shut his eyes against the pain that welled up and nodded in answer to the unasked question. “My sister’s trunks are in there. Shift them to my bedroom, if you would.”
