something amazingly precious had slipped away, something he couldn’t grasp, no more than he could hold air.
The paddock seethed with horses and women and children. Jerin stood at the edge, watching Ren give commands. Somehow she detached herself and came to him without seeming to seek him out. They stood in silence as Jerin tried to think of something he could say. Certainly not “Don’t go,” or “I think I love you,” or even “Don’t leave me here to marry the Brindles.” With his sisters near at hand, even “I’ll miss you” was dangerous. “Come back and visit” was impossible; he’d be married and gone within a few months.
Finally, he found something acceptable. “Keep yourself safe.”
She looked away, a hint of tears in her eyes, but then looked quickly back, as if she didn’t want to waste one moment of their time together. “I will. I would feel better if your mothers were here too, in case there was an attack.”
“They’ll be back in a week.” Eldest joined them, Raven on her heels.
Jerin bit down on his disappointment, only nodding to Eldest’s comment. “They’re in Annaboro.”
Ironically, the princesses would pass Annaboro halfway downriver to Mayfair.
“What takes them down there?” Raven asked.
“They took our two-year-old fillies down for market,” Eldest said.
“They go the extra distance to visit their sisters and brothers,” Jerin added.
“Sisters and brothers?” Ren asked, clearly startled by their rare proliferation.
“Our grandmothers had twenty-four daughters and three sons,” Eldest explained. “They split the family in half. The elder twelve sisters stayed here at the farm, and swapped the oldest brother for a husband.
The youngest twelve swapped the middle brother, and got the brother’s price from selling their youngest brother. They started a trading house in Annaboro with the money.”
A call took Eldest away. Jerin continued since the subject seemed safe.
“Our mothers take our bloodstock down every summer to sell. Sometimes they take us along, so we stay close to our cousins. In the winter, when trading is slow, our aunts, uncles, and cousins come to visit us.”
“I see,” Ren murmured. “What do your sisters plan with their wealth of brothers?”
The question made his stomach drop. “We might split the family again: eleven older sisters, seventeen younger. With the four of us boys, my sisters could swap two brothers for husbands, and sell the other two. Eldest is already twenty-eight; she and the others want a husband soon. I’ll-I’ll probably be swapped for a husband.” He closed his eyes to force himself to say in a neutral voice, “Maybe with the neighbors. Doric will be of age in six years, but none of the youngest sisters will be quite old enough then, so they might sell him. Liam and Kai-sell one, swap the other.”
“It sounds so cold.”
“Actually it isn’t that bad. With four boys, there is no pressure to accept the first offer.”
Ren reached out to clasp his hands. “Keep safe.”
With the royal party departed, the farm seemed emptier than two days previous when Eldest and the others were still gone. This being a laundry day. Jerin washed out the trousers he’d rescued Odelia in, and the sheets soiled by dreams of Ren. Her perfume clung to his nightshirt and he stood smelling it, wishing now that they had finished the deed. Finally, he added it to the soapy water, saying to himself,
“Silly, silly boy.”
When Corelle appeared, wanting to make sure he wasn’t ruining his hands with the hot wash water, he threw a bucket of dirty soap water at her. Corelle leaped at him, fist upraised, and vanished under a pile of screaming, flailing girls. The youngest dragged Corelle down by sheer volume as she punched and kicked. Jerin cursed and started snatching the littlest ones out of the fight before they could get seriously hurt.
“Stop it! Stop it!” he yelled, plucking Violet out of the fray. The four-year-old had a bloody nose already. “Damn it. Corelle, you’re going to hurt someone!”
“Good!” she roared.
Heria appeared suddenly, summoned by the fighting. “Corelle, do you want to be thrown out of the family? Stop it now, or I’ll see it done!”
It shocked all the girls into stillness.
“Who do you think you are?” Corelle growled, wiping blood from a split lip.
“Eldest is pissed enough for you going off and leaving the boys unguarded, Corelle. You shouldn’t be fighting with the little ones, and if you hit Jerin, I’ll tell. Eldest will throw you out for sure.”
“I’ll tell! I’ll tell!” Corelle whined and shoved Heria hard, knocking her to the ground. “Oh, shut up!”
Corelle stormed away, leaving behind little girls too angry to cry. Worse, they still had to carry the heavy baskets of wet linens down to the clotheslines and hang up the sheets. In the end, they pinned up only forty of the sixty sheets, creating walls of white that rippled in the wind. Blood from dripping noses, cut hands, and bloody lips splattered the rest of the sheets and they needed to be rewashed.
At dinnertime Eldest announced Corelle’s punishment for leaving the farm unguarded: her personal items, with the exception of weapons and work clothes, would be divided out to the youngest sisters and she would be given no more pocket money for the rest of the year. Hinting at a day spent inventorying Corelle’s belongings. Eldest read the list to be parceled out: Corelle’s flashy buckskin mare, her fine-tooled saddle bought at last year’s fair, her gold money clip, her two silk shirts, her tooled leather belts with silver buckles, her silver currycomb, and even her coveted keepsake box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. To give the youngest sisters credit, the greed in their eyes dimmed to pity as the list continued until only guns and knives were left to Corelle.
“That’s not fair!” Corelle yelped.
“1 could throw in a horsewhipping too. if you like,” Eldest snapped.
“What about the others?” Corelle indicated Kira beside her. Eva and Summer across the table.
“ You were left in charge.” Eldest jabbed a finger at Corelle. “ You decided to go to the Brindles”. You will pay for this.“
“No!”
“Yes.” Eldest calmly stated. “You left four brothers” prices, our entire future, the only hope we have to buy a husband and have children to care for us when we’re old- all of that -unguarded when you had been specifically told not to leave the farm.“
“Fine!” Corelle stood up. “There’s nothing I want.” she said, and then paused to run her tongue over her lips in a manner that made Jerin recall Ren delighting him, “that I can’t get for free.”
Eldest caught Corelle by the hair and muscled her down into her chair. “First, you have let your hair grow too long. I suspect Balin Brindle to be the cause, but you will cut it shorter. Secondly, you’re acting a little too knowledgeable for someone your age. Again, I suspect Balin Brindle to be the cause, and that better not be the case. That’s how syphilis enters a family-one sister dallying outside of wedlock.”
“He’s clean, he promised me!” Corelle protested, indignant.
Eldest slapped her hard. “You do not put your family’s lives on the line with a promise from an outsider.
Tomorrow we will take you to a doctor and see what she says about how clean you are. I warn you: if you’ve gotten yourself infected with something, you will not be wife to our husband. If we have to, we will throw you out of the house.”
“No!” Corelle cried. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“You’d have us be like the Treesdales? Ignore the situation so our husband gets infected? Have him pass it to all of us, and then all the youngest sisters as they come of age? Do you want the whole family to die a hard, slow death? Do you remember how the Treesdales suffered? The pain? The babies born dead, born twisted? They’re gone, Corelle! The whole family gone, because Zera Treesdale got the itch to try out a crib.”
Corelle hunched down, ducked her head, and pouted. “He’s not in a crib, and we’re going to marry him anyhow.”
“No, we aren’t!” Eldest stated, then forestalled an argument by explaining, “They approached us. We listened. That was all. That is not an agreement for marriage. Frankly, Corelle, we can do better than them. We have land, money, and breeding. We’ve got Queens’ blood in us, and don’t you forget that.
You’re acting like a cat in heat, presenting yourself to anything that might want to service you.”
“At least I’m not servicing women on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night!” Corelle hissed.
Jerin clapped hands to his mouth to trap in a cry of protest. Corelle witnessed him and Ren? Eldest turned toward him, saw his face, and went white.
“Corelle, go to your room,” Eldest said.
