Royal Assassin

He snorted disdain. "Wouldn't they? I no longer know what they would or would not dare, FitzChivalry. Neither do you. I'd find a sounder way to latch my door, if I were you. Unless you wish to find your head in a bag as well." He gave a smile that wasn't even a shadow of his usual mocking grin, and slipped out again. I walked to the door after he had left it, and dropped the bar into place. I leaned my back against it and sighed.

"It's all very well for the rest of them, Verity," I said aloud to the silent room. "But for myself, I think you should turn yourself about right now and ride home. There's more afoot than Red-Ships, and somehow I misdoubt that Elderlings would be much help against the other threats we face."

I waited, hoping to feel some sort of acknowledgment or agreement from him. There was nothing. My frustrations whirled in me. I was seldom certain of when Verity was aware with me, and never sure if he sensed the thoughts I wished to send him. I wondered again at why he did not direct Serene as to the actions he wished taken. He had Skilled to her all summer about Red-Ships; why was he so silent now? Had he Skilled to her already, and she concealed it? Or revealed it, perhaps, to Regal only. I considered it. Perhaps the bruises on the Fool's face reflected Regal's frustration at finding Verity aware of what was going on in his absence. Why he had chosen the Fool as the culprit was anyone's guess. Perhaps he had simply chosen him as a vent for his rage. The Fool had never avoided offending Regal. Or anyone else.

Later that night, I went to Molly. It was a dangerous time to go, for the Keep was abuzz with extra folk and extra servants taking care of them. But my suspicions would not let me stay away. When I tapped on the door that night, Molly asked through the wood, "Who is it?"

"It's me," I replied incredulously. She had never asked before.

"Oh," she replied, and opened the door. I slipped inside and bolted it behind me as she crossed to the hearth. She knelt before it, adding wood it didn't need and not looking at me. She was dressed in her blue servant's dress, and her hair was still bundled up. Every line of her body warned me. I was in trouble again.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here much lately."

"So am I," Molly said shortly.

She wasn't leaving me much in the way of openings. "A lot has been going on, and they've been keeping me pretty busy."

"With what?"

I sighed. I already knew where this conversation was going. "With things I can't talk to you about."

"Of course." For all the calmness and coolness in her voice, I knew her fury was raging just beneath the surface. The slightest wrong word would set it off. So would not saying anything. So my question might as well be tackled head-on.

"Molly, the reason I came tonight-"

"Oh, I knew there had to be some special reason for you to finally drop by. The only thing that really surprises me is myself. Why am I here? Why do I come straight to my room after my duties each day and wait, on the off chance that you might show up? There are other things I could be doing. There are minstrels and puppet shows aplenty lately. Prince Regal sees to that. I could be at one of the lesser hearths with the other servants, enjoying their company. Instead of up here alone. Or I could be getting some work done. Cook lets me use the kitchen when it's not a busy time. I have wicking and herbs and tallow; I should be using them while the herbs still have their full potency. But no, I am up here, on the off chance that you'll remember me and want to spend a few moments with me.

I stood like a rock in the battering waves of her words. There was nothing else I could do. Everything she said was true. I looked at my feet while she caught her breath. When she spoke again, the anger had faded from her voice, to be replaced with something worse. Misery and discouragement.

"Fitz, it's just so hard. Every time I think I have accepted it, I turn a corner and catch myself hoping again. But there's never going to be anything for us, is there? Never going to be a time that belongs just to us, never going to be a place that is just ours." She paused. She looked down, biting on her lower lip. When she spoke, her voice trembled. "I've seen Celerity. She's beautiful. I even made an excuse to speak to her .... I asked if they needed more candles for their rooms .... She spoke back, shyly, but courteously. She even thanked me for being concerned, as few here thank servants. She's ... she's nice. A Lady. Oh, they'll never give you permission to marry me. Why would you want to marry a servant?"

"You are not a servant to me," I said quietly. "I never think of you that way."

"Then what am I? I am not a wife," she pointed out quietly.