Fool’s Assassin

“You aren’t,” Chade cut in decisively. “That name is a danger to you. You must leave it behind. I’ll give you a new name. My own. You are a Fallstar now. I give you my surname. The one that my mother gave to me. Shun Fallstar.”

She stared at him, shocked. Then, to my horror, tears formed in her eyes. Mouth ajar, she looked at Lord Chade as the drops began their slow passage down her cheeks. Chade went pale, the old pock-scars standing out against his face. Many thought them the sign of his survival of some plague. I knew them for what they were: the traces of an experiment with a mixture that had proved far more explosive than he had thought. Like him, I bore some scars from the things we had exploded together. Just as we had this girl’s life.

I thought of the other life this would impact. My child, who was still just coming to know me. Bee was still adapting after her mother’s death. I wondered how she would react to this sudden inclusion of a new family member and knew the answer. She would not welcome it, any more than I did. Well, with a great deal of luck, it would not be for long, just until Chade found a better solution for all of us. Still. I looked at Shun. “Have you any experience with children?”

She made a quick swipe at her tears and shook her head. “I grew up with my grandparents. My mother was their only surviving child, so there were no other youngsters in their household. Only me. The servants had children but I had little to do with them. And my mother’s nieces were the children of her husband’s brother, and perfect little beasts.” She took a breath and exclaimed, “I told you, I can’t pretend to be her governess. I won’t do that!”

“No. I only wondered if you were accustomed to children. You aren’t. And I have no problems with that. I suspect you thought you might guard my child for me. I don’t think that will be needed at all. I can find other tasks for you, ones that have to do with running the household staff.” Yet another thing I must invent. Busywork to keep her occupied.

Given the sort of child that Bee was, perhaps it was best that Shun had no experience of other children. Bee might seem less odd to her. But the vehemence of her instant response to the thought that she might have to care for the child was a small warning to me. I would keep Bee at a safe distance from her until I had gauged her character. I stood to leave. Chade looked alarmed.

“I’d hoped to talk more with you! Can’t you stay the night? The storm outside is only getting worse. Riddle, could you see if the inn has another open room?”

I shook my head. I knew he wanted to have a long, private conversation with me. He longed for a chance to explain every part of this, and to explore every possible solution. But there was someone else who needed me more. “I can’t. Bee isn’t accustomed to being left alone.” Was Bee asleep yet? Or lying awake and wondering when her papa would be back? Shame that I had all but forgotten her in this strange business washed through me, followed by uneasiness and urgency. I needed to get home. I looked at Chade.

“Surely her nursemaid …”

I shook my head, irritated at the delay. “She has none. Molly and I were raising her, and before her mother died she needed no one else. Now she has only me. Chade, I have to go.”

He looked at me. Then with an exasperated sigh, he flapped his hand at me. “Go, then. But we still need to talk. Privately.”

“We will. Another time. And I will ask you about that tutor you recommended as well.”

He nodded. He would find a way. Tonight he needed to stay in this room and convince his sullen charge that she must do as he suggested. But that was his task, not mine. I had enough tasks of my own.

As I left, Riddle followed me out into the hall. “Bad luck all round,” he said. “The passage was difficult for him to manage, and then the storm delayed us, too. He had hoped to have a quiet hour or two with you before dealing with ‘a problem.’ I was shocked when the problem turned out to be a girl. Shun. Terrible name, eh? I’m sure it’s not what her grandparents called her. I hope she doesn’t decide to keep it.”

I looked at him wearily, reaching for words. “Well. At least it’s good to know that the Farseer talent for dramatics is being passed on.”

He grinned crookedly. “I’d say you and Nettle both carry a fair share of that.” When I did not answer his smile, he asked in a gentler voice, “How are you doing, Tom?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “As you see. I’m getting by. Adjusting.”

He nodded and was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Nettle is worried for her sister. I’ve told her that you are far more capable than she might imagine, but she has still moved forward with preparing a chamber and a caretaker for little Bee.”