“Will you show us what you have made?” Auberon asked. “I understand you have been secluded for all of the last day in the castle workroom. Duir was none pleased to find the space vacant this morning.”
“I will not!” I returned and kicked at Briar. “My head will be upon a spike before I show you the coronation vest!”
“He had us sent for and woken to seek you out even before the first meal was served!” Briar lamented.
“Why did you leave the castle, Virago?” Auberon asked, his eyes flicking over my being until they rested on my pack.
“I am sorry for having you troubled on my behalf, but I found myself needing the familiar tools of my home to ensure Duir’s vest was to be perfect. In my defense, my need proved correct. The vest is truly magnificent.”
“So, will you make my wedding vest and those of my men?” Auberon asked greedily. “Surely you will not deny Tienne!”
“If you so desperately seek my aid, seek Duir and implore him with Tienne and your desires. If he relents, I will do as you wish.” I spoke as if my tongue were incapable of caution. I found release from the tormenting shame clinging to me in this new freedom. They can all be damned! I thought almost merrily as the carriage plodded along. What do I care anymore for these jackals in their finery?
“It must be so!” Auberon shouted joyously. “I will implore Duir once he has been crowned and the ale is poured!”
Briar shook his bald head. “You are a wedded fool, Auberon! Duir’s mind is rattled enough as it is. You cannot possibly think of bothering him about such nonsense!”
The two men fought good-naturedly, and the question of my leaving the castle was forgotten. With every turn of the carriage wheels, I was closer to seeing Seton. How I would embrace him and implore him to find some secret place to taste his lips.
“And the musician! How he played and plied Duir with sweet music the long night!” Briar continued, obviously finishing a thought I’d missed in my daydreams.
“How did the musician fare?” I asked quickly and cursed my eagerness, for Auberon had not missed my sudden interest in their conversation.
“What interest do you have in the lute player?”
“Only it was I who recommended him, Auberon. I am not unfamiliar with Duir’s capacity to blame not only the message but the messenger of things failing to delight him,” I added coolly.
At this, Briar laughed. “Our tailor has gotten the vinegar in his porridge this morning instead of milk!”
“You must watch yourself, Virago,” warned Auberon. “Duir is in a strange mood.”
“I’m sure no stranger than any I have witnessed these many years.”
I saw Auberon’s face change from one of mild amusement to one of sarcastic knowing. “You asked about the musician, so I’ll tell you. Duir had him play the night through with nary a minute of respite between songs. The man played on until his fingers bled. I saw the crimson drops fall at his feet even if I was drunk with ale.” The last was added with a smirk in Briar’s direction.
My face betrayed my shock and I tried quickly to mask the rage with which I was becoming more comfortable. He knows! My mind shrieked over the pounding of blood in my ears. He knows!
“You have taken a keen interest in this wandering minstrel. I wonder why you care for his wellbeing but not of your King’s wishes?” Briar asked.
Auberon, apparently seeing the disgust on my face, put his hand on my knee. “We are your brothers, Virago, not this man who plays a lute! It is we who have secured your place among the court!”
“My brother,” I started to say with such ferocity, both men’s mouths dropped any smirk they once held. “My brother is not welcome in this court, and it was my father, who secured my place in Duir’s court, and it is my talent which keeps me there.”
The carriage came to a halt before the castle. I gathered my pack to me and dismounted from the carriage before either man could make comment on my outburst. As I made my way inside, I wondered if my actions hadn’t secured my place in the dungeons or, thinking of Seton, worse.
The halls of the castle were full of noise and movement, people running from task to task, loud voices panicked over coronation details. The castle guards were dressed in event finery, and every corridor smelled either of flowers or food. Instead of going directly to Duir, I instinctively sought refuge in the lower kitchens. If Seton were here, I hoped he would have been advised to find food and rest there.
Naturally, the kitchens were in full, bustling motion. The lower kitchens were used for the menial tasks of preparing the food to be cooked in the higher kitchens. It was also a place of respite for servants and guards alike.
Familiar with the setup of the noisy, active room, I quickly found Rosemont, a cook I’d known for many years. Her ebony curls were barely contained beneath her cap and her skin was glossy with sweat. I could see exhaustion in her eyes, but she smiled as I walked beside her.
“And what are you about being in here? Surely His Grace must be in need of you this morn!” She stopped and slapped the hand of a scullery maid. “You fool girl,” she shouted at the girl who had all but shrunk into the side of the wall in terror. “The next time you chop a plum the wrong way, I’ll show you on your
