At the mention of the word peacock, I was reminded of Sylvain, the dead birds and the sick girls at Therese’s. The thought of Seton returning to the house where an illness may have taken root struck me silent. It could be nothing, the birds could have died because they had been sick and the girls were prostitutes who picked up every cough within a radius of their beds. Surely…
“Will I never have something this fine of my own?” Seton asked the mirror.
I stood behind him, my thoughts a wild mix of fear and conjecture. When he touched my shoulder, I started. “I’m sorry, my thoughts are elsewhere. I’m exhausted of this task and this day, and I have much to do.”
Seton’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and I could tell he knew I wasn’t really answering him.
“What is it?” he asked, concern plain in his voice. “Have I made you weary?”
“I am weary, true. My brother talks of an illness in Therese’s house.” I yawned. My eyes ached from the needlework, and my hands trembled with exhaustion. I could no longer hold the concern in my head. Fortunately, Seton was my only audience.
“What do you mean, an illness?” Seton removed the vest. He thrust it towards me as if it were made of fire.
“The peacocks. Therese received four peacocks, two of which she killed for food, those who ate of them have fallen sick, and the two she wished as pets have died.” I saw disbelief cloud Seton’s face. “My brother believes the birds were plagued and I fear you may succumb to this illness if you return.”
“Your brother cannot mean there is a plague!”
I went to the window and closed the glass pane and gathered the vest from where Seton left it. “My brother, Sylvain, is blind. He trains animals to earn his way. In his blindness he has developed a sense of things I have come to trust. While I hope it is indeed coincidence, I would be a fool not to warn you. I can only hope it is as you say.”
“The blind are very wise to things,” Seton agreed. “I have known many a wise man and woman without sight, but it is also foolish to panic now. Let us wait and see what the next day brings. I am lucky, for I believe Claus has been sent on some errand for Therese and is away from the house. If there is illness, he has hopefully been spared.”
“But what of his return?”
“Virago, we cannot control what is beyond the means of man. What do you wish to do? Sound a plague alarm the night before Duir’s coronation with only two dead birds and sick whores as evidence? You’d be deemed mad before anyone heeded your warning. No, we must wait.”
I could only nod. My suspicions and concern were evident in my thoughts, but perhaps he was right. Sylvain could be wrong.
“You’re tired, my friend.” He came to me to take my hands in his and brought them to his heart. “My love, am I a fool to name you as such? Tell me.”
At this stark question, I flushed. I wished to tell him how my heart leapt when he said the words, but found myself unable to answer what was written so clearly across my heart. “I am very tired, but I must work on until it’s finished. When my fingers can do no more, I will know it is done. Now they ache with work unfinished. I will know.” I repeated more to myself than to Seton. Sheer creative need to complete the garment drove me to take my hands from Seton’s and gather the vest to me.
“Ahh, but you do not answer. But I see it in your eyes. I am not blind and I see your truth clearly and will wait in tender anticipation for your answer. Have I not told you I would wait before?”
I was about to answer, but Seton shook his head.
“Don’t say anything. It is enough to be near you and see you as I do. Now you must rest. Take a break from this room and walk the courtyards you know and love so well. Return and work until the cathedral bells ring in the coronation day.”
Seton reached for me. “Come and let us escape, if only for a short stroll.”
I resisted, though I wished nothing more than to walk alongside him in the now twilit gardens
“You should go, find Duir, and entertain him. It’s his last free night before tomorrow, when he wears the crown. You will be a comfort to him and his drunken consorts.”
Seton remained before me, a defeated but knowing look on his face. “You would send me away when I would so rather entertain you? But I can see in your eyes the dogged determinedness of the muse burning, so I will leave you and do as you wish.” He bowed low and when he straightened, added, “But I will come for you before long. If I don’t, it is you who will fall to an illness in this dratted workroom—a cell is more like it.” He snorted as he cast a disapproving eye around the small space.
“It is enough for me to complete the task and it is only for a short time. Once Duir wears the velvet, the secret of it will be out and I will return to my own shop and work there, most likely I will be asked to stitch vests for Auberon and the men who will stand by him during his wedding to Tienne.”
Seton went to his lute and picked a tune, fast and amusing, and he sung aloud. “Ahh, the men of court are fools you see, dressed in things from overseas. And in one room a tailor sits, and dreams of his lover whose fingers
