She shouldn't have run out. Skoch was on her side. Why was she angry with him?
Because if Providence wasn't real, then she had no one to blame for her troubles, maybe.
The yak barn was dim and cool, the beasts' breath hanging in misty clouds above the occupied stalls. Two things stood out for their absence. No lavacloth carpet and no suncloths. The floor was made of rough planks, but with the heat from the yaks' bodies and breath, the barn was warm enough.
Light spilled into the barn through narrow windows high in the walls—just enough for Repentance to see the shaggy animals in their stalls. She wandered down the center corridor, peering at yaks on either side, afraid to get too close lest the animals gouge her with their sharp horns.
One, a black fellow with friendly round eyes, grunted at her as she passed.
"What are you saying?" she asked, approaching cautiously.
The yak didn't answer.
"You can pet him." The voice came from behind her.
She spun around to face a boy—a slave, maybe a couple of years younger than she—exiting a stall, a pitchfork in his hands. "You scared me," she said, holding a hand to her chest. "I didn't know anyone else was here."
"I'm always here," the boy said. "These yaks and me, we've been together as long as I can remember."
"Are they friendly? I'm afraid of the horns."
The stable boy smiled. "That's Bramble. He'll never gore you. Worst he'll do is chew the pocket from your work smock, looking for something to eat." He rested his pitchfork against the wall and walked over to scratch Bramble's forehead.
Repentance shivered.
The boy laughed. "You're that scared?"
"It's a little chilly in here," she said, defensively.
He nodded. "No lava cloth in here to warm things up."
"It would make it too hot for the yaks?"
He laughed again. "It would make the floor too messy. Yaks don't care much where they do their business."
"Speaking of cleaning stalls, my pitchfork and I are itching to get done before dinner." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small bunch of wilted broccoli, and offered it to Repentance. "Feed him this, and old Bramble will be your friend for life."
"What's your name?" she asked, happy to have someone willing to carry on a friendly conversation.
"I'm Shamed. And I know who you are, already. Everyone does, my Lady." He left her.
She held out the broccoli and gave a little squeal when Bramble lipped it from her hand, almost sucking in her fingers with it. As he munched she reached out tentatively and touched his quivering neck.
"Gaylor says I'm a dirty animal," Repentance whispered to the beast as she moved her hand around and scratched his forehead. "In truth I'd rather live in the barn than the palace. I'd rather live with the dumb animals who can't tell the difference between an overlord and a lowborn."
Yaks, she quickly decided, would be better company than overlords, on any trail in the swamp. Better than lowborns, too, for that matter. Bramble was calm and kind and he listened to everything she said, staring at her with his big round eyes. Even when she told him about how she often thought dangerous things in her heart, he didn't judge her. "But sometimes those things slip out of my mouth before I can snatch them back," she whispered. "Like when I yelled at the king. I never plan such things." The yak lowered his shaggy head and offered a sympathetic grunt.
"And this time I really need to plan," she said. "But whichever way I look at it, I'm doomed. If the king finds out I've been talking to the prince and I haven't told him about it, he'll banish me, or worse. But if I tell him the prince is threatening him, and the prince finds out I told …." She sighed and leaned her forehead against Bramble's neck.
Repentance was still worried when Generosity woke her the following morning.
She let the maid's chatter fly by without paying attention. But it did little good for her to worry over what the prince and Providence had planned for her. If the prince was determined to kill the king, she couldn't do anything about it. She had only one hope. She might as well focus on trying to keep the king calm and alive and let the rest of it go.
And if Providence did turn out to be real? All she ever got from him was a frown. So she might as well let him go, too. She didn't need to bother with him at all. She would make her own way.
"And Merit has been eyes-only for Favor ever since." Generosity's words broke into her thoughts.
"Why would she be eyes-only for him? Why should slaves bother falling in love? They can't button."
"Of course they can button. What's to stop them? Especially since the king owns them both. He's always willing to have his slaves button. Says they make better workers when they're happy. And he never sells one button mate without the other."
Repentance turned this over in her mind.
"What if they don't belong to the same owner?"
Generosity blushed. "It's still possible. One owner has to be willing to buy the other slave, is all. And the other owner has to be willing to sell. It happens."
Repentance studied her maid's pink face. "You're in love?"
"Not in love." She shook her head, but she quickly followed her denial with a smile. "However, there is a mighty handsome farmer who's been coming around the last couple of months."
Repentance jerked a little, and her heart did a little stutter-step. Generosity was in love with Sober?
And why
