All The Queen's Ladies [NaNoWriMo Project]

Ladies, Waiting

Cerys says, "So I think if the war continues, we shall not go on progress next summer. Though I hope with all my heart it will not continue, obviously. But if it does. It would not be appropriate, would it? Unless we go north, perhaps up to Hasser Court, so not far enough to be in danger, but then close enough so that Admiral Hewert can get news to us quicker. It is not too cold up there in summer, is it? Not as warm as round here, but..."

Cerys says, "And Elsbet will be joining us, now her babe is a little bigger. I do miss her, the Lord Treasurer is always so much less...himself, when she is in the court, and I know that Lady Pallina misses her too. And Liliane Cobham, her daughter is of age now, and she applies to us for a place in my train, which I shall be happy to give. I have seen her a few times and she seems kind and willing to learn. We can always give her a chance, can't we?"

Cerys says, "That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

Cerys says, "Branwen, are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm?"

Her hands are full. She stares down at them; it seems she has been sewing, or holding a needle at the least. A half-finished bear stares up at her, one ear missing, its mouth open in a gaping cry. Why a bear? She can't remember.

"Branwen doesn't get enough sleep!" Eliyne roars with laughter.

Carlotte says, "A guilty conscience will do that to a person."

She flushes, angry; at Eliyne, whose teasing has gone beyond a joke; at Carlotte, for this confirmation that she believes her guilty; at Cerys, even, for drawing attention to her. She would have them all gone and it just her and the queen, except the moment that got to Lady Pallina she would be out of court and surrounded by Clares, far from Gweon and Cerys. "I am not guilty," she insists.

"Nicolas Wrainby thinks well of you."

Cerys shoots Eliyne a look. "So do I, what of it? What does it matter if he is a man? He can think well of a woman without suspicious intentions!" But it's hard to insult or upset Eliyne. She just grins.

She wants to say: Cerys, stop, don't bother, they won't listen. Because they won't. She has given up hope that they will tire of it - even war doesn't distract Eliyne, she's like a dog with a particularly tasty bone, determined to get out all the juicy marrow - and she senses, though she can't see, Cara somewhere sneering at her. It is no secret that Lady Pallina dines with her when she is off duty, and that now Carlotte goes too, sometimes. She doesn't imagine that they talk about the weather.

She wants to say this, but she doesn't, and so the queen continues, "Nicolas is a good man, a kind man, and like to think well of anybody if they give him reason. That he is fond of her only means that our Branwen has not dealt him some mortal insult or, Lady Marr, made an assault on his honour, that is so important to him and his family."

"I'm surprised," Carlotte mutters, under her breath.

"Oh, Nicolas, is it? Should we be stitching your wedding clothes already?" Cerys blushes; Eliyne laughs, seeing this as a success, to make her sovereign falter, and presses on. "He has not invited me for a walk in the gardens, make of that what you will, you can be sure that I will!"

Alice says, "He knows your reputation."

"Oh, la di da. What would you know of reputation, girl?"

Alice withdraws into herself and won't answer. She has lost some of her childish softness, since the herbalist's drink, and if you thought she was all angles before, look at her now. She looks skinny - no, not skinny, but slim, and there is a glitter to her where previously there was just a hint of shine. She looks like a woman, and one who has seen something, felt something of life. This retreat is out of choice, not out of hurt, because how can she be hurt, when she knows reputation more than any of them? But Eliyne is not subtle and doesn't feel the difference. She opens her mouth to unleash another taunt.