I kept my thoughts to herself as Grand Dame Stephanie bombarded me with an endless series of instructions, from brushing her hair just right to watering and arranging her flowers. The flower bed was a fascinating design, one that could be easily adapted to growing potion ingredients with a little effort. I wondered why Master Travis had never bothered to try to build something like it for himself. It would be cheaper to grow some of our supplies ourselves than order them from suppliers. And, while I worked, Grand Dame Stephanie talked endlessly about everything under the sun. She didn’t seem to want to hear my responses, if she heard them at all. She just wanted to talk.
“They tell me they can make Objects of Power now,” she said. “If true ... Anton won’t do what he has to do to secure them for the family. And none of the others have Richard’s strength of character. They won’t do whatever they have to do to rebuild our fortunes.”
My eyes narrowed. House Bolingbroke was immensely rich ... wasn’t it? But I knew, from managing Master Travis’s accounts, that it was possible to earn a great deal of money and then have to spend every last copper just to keep one’s head above water. House Bolingbroke was huge. I didn’t want to think about how much it cost to run the hall, let alone the family’s workshops and shipping fleet. They might be having problems financing their interests. I wondered, numbly, what it meant for their servants. Cook was probably the highest-paid servant and even she would be paid peanuts, compared to the cost of running a fleet.
“And there are other stories,” Grand Dame Stephanie mused. “House Aguirre and House Rubén are going to merge. If they do ...”
Her face darkened. Jill had told me that House Rubén was the oldest of the Great Houses, the only one that could trace a solid line of descent all the way back to the early days of the Thousand-Year Empire. House Bolingbroke could claim to be the very first Great House in Shallot, but that was only a technicality. It still struck me as silly, yet I was starting to see that Jill had been right. Grand Dame Stephanie and her family took their claims to prominence very seriously indeed.
“... They’ll have the wealth and power to render themselves unchallengeable,” the elderly woman continued. “If Richard was alive ...”
I was starting to have the feeling that Richard wouldn’t have been much better than Reginald, if he had stayed alive, but I kept that thought to myself. Grand Dame Stephanie had clearly loved her husband. I felt another flicker of envy. A woman who was widowed in Water Shallot had to look for another husband as quickly as possible. There was no way she could spend the rest of her life mourning the dead man if she had children who would need a father, someone who would provide for them. And a widower would be expected to remarry too.
“You did good work with the flowers,” Grand Dame Stephanie said, when I was finished watering the pots and miniature beds. “Lucinda chose well, when she hired you. I will be sure to tell her.”
“Thank you, My Lady,” I said. That wasn’t good news. Lucinda didn’t need another reason to dislike me. “I’m sure she will be pleased to hear it.”
“And we’re to have a ball next week,” Grand Dame Stephanie said. “If only I could go ! I can’t trust anyone to do their job right!”
You could get up at any moment , I thought, sharply. Grand Dame Stephanie would have problems walking, after so long in bed, but a couple of potions would restore her to normal. I could brew one of them myself. And then a nutrient potion or two ... it really wouldn’t be that hard. Why don’t you just get out of bed?
“Henri would have known what to do,” Grand Dame Stephanie added, thoughtfully. “He had the soul of his grandfather. But now he’s dead and Simon is too young to take his place. He won’t be chosen if my son dies.”
She met my eyes. “I was a Turin, you know. Everyone said I’d married well above my station, but Richard loved me. I would have done anything for him, just as he would do anything for the family. But now the family is weakening and all I can do is stay in bed and watch helplessly as ... the family dies.”
“I’m sure it isn’t that bad, My Lady,” I said, trying to hide my contempt. A week or two in Water Shallot would teach her the error of her ways, if she survived. “Your family is still alive.”
“The ball will give us a chance to make alliances, if only my son and his siblings had the strength of character to forge them,” Grand Dame Stephanie insisted. “They’re trying to cosy up to House Rubén and House Aguirre, but that will make us forever subordinate. They should be forging links with the remaining houses, the ones who will be in the same boat if Rubén and Aguirre do unite. The Heir Primus of House Rubén is due to marry Caitlyn Aguirre. That will link the families together.”
She let out a sound that could have been a laugh or a sob. I wasn’t sure. “Four years. Four years until the kids are old enough to marry. They won’t be allowed to wait any longer, not with what’s at stake. Four years ... that’s all we have to build an alliance powerful enough to counter them. Four years ...”
“They’re young,” I said. I did the math in my head. If she’d been a first-year student, as the broadsheets insisted, Caitlyn Aguirre couldn’t be older than thirteen. “She might not want to marry at seventeen ...”
Grand Dame Stephanie gave me a look that suggested I’d said something stupid. “Do you think anyone cares what the little brat wants ? Or her husband-to-be? They’ll be wed as soon as decent and they’ll like it. Or they won’t. No one will care, one way or the other.”
She snorted, rudely. “Damn the man,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking about her late husband, Henri, Reginald or someone I hadn’t met. “Why did he have to die so soon?”
“I don’t know, My Lady,” I said.
She gave me another nasty look. “You can read and write?”
“Yes, My Lady,” I said. “I learned to read and write before I went into service.”
“The schools don’t teach you like they should,” Grand Dame Stephanie said. “But I’m glad to hear you mastered something . Take a book from the shelves and read to me until I go to sleep. You can consider yourself dismissed when I start to snore.”
“Yes, My Lady,” I said. I felt ... I wasn’t sure what I felt. Grand Dame Stephanie was both pitiable and contemptible. She’d lost a husband and, instead of remarrying, had spent the rest of her life mourning him. I wondered, as I pulled a random book from the shelf, if she really was as old as she looked. She couldn’t have spent decades in bed ... could she? “How about The Tale of Old Leonora? ”
“That will do,” Grand Dame Stephanie said. “It’s full of practical instruction for young women.”
I sat down and opened the book, then started to read aloud. It was hard going. I had to sound out a number of archaic words that dated back hundreds of years, words I’d never seen in the ancient spellbooks. Master Travis had told me that the original language had shattered into a dozen different languages after the Thousand-Year Empire had collapsed, but I’d never really believed it. I had enough trouble sounding out the words that I found it hard to follow the story, such as it was. Leonora seemed to spend half her time receiving instruction from a number of older women and the other half doing her best to follow the instructions and getting into trouble anyway. I wasn’t sure what the book was meant to be teaching young women. Do the best you can to follow instructions, but get into trouble anyway? That didn’t seem quite right.
Grand Dame Stephanie started to snore, nearly an hour later. I closed the book and stood, then carefully reached out with my senses. Magic crackled over the flowerbeds, weaving in and out of the walls. Beyond them, I could feel the wards lurking in the background. I studied them for a long moment, wondering if I could figure out how to manipulate them for myself. But I didn’t even know where to begin.
I hesitated, then returned the book to the shelf and headed to the door. It was nearly time for dinner. And then ...
She went to her bed after her husband died and stayed there , I thought, as I took one last look at the elderly
woman. How can she live like that?
Chapter Eighteen
“The Grand Dame found your service satisfactory,” Lucinda ground out, the following morning. “She did say your reading skills were not up to par” - I groaned, inwardly - “but otherwise you handled her requests quite well.”
“Thank you, Miss,” I said. I felt as if I hadn’t slept all night. I’d barely had a chance to wash and eat breakfast before she’d nabbed me. “I’m glad I was able to satisfy her.”
“Her maid has returned to duty,” Lucinda added, “so you’ll be pleased to hear that you won’t have to wait upon the Grande Dame again. You certainly won’t have any chance to skive off while she sleeps.”
“No, Miss,” I said.
Lucinda shot me a sharp look, as if she thought I was mocking her. “You’ll report instead to Cyanine Bolingbroke’s suite,” she said. “Her nurse is taking the day off and” - her lips twisted into a sneer - “as you have experience with young children, you can serve her instead. Collect her breakfast from the kitchen and take it up to her, then remain in her suite until lunchtime. Jill will relieve you after she’s eaten. You can report to me after eating lunch yourself.”
“Yes, Miss,” I said.
“Go,” Lucinda said. “You don’t want to be late again.”
I resisted the urge to point out that the only reason I’d been late to the Grande Dame’s suite had been because Lucinda hadn’t told me about the duty until the last possible moment. Instead, I left the room, hurried down to the kitchen and took the tray waiting for me. Cook was in a frantic mood - she and her staff were cooking vast amounts of food for the forthcoming ball - and barely even nodded at me as I left. I was glad I wasn’t working directly for her. Daisy wasn’t the only assistant to be in trouble over the last few days.
And I’m taking a tray of food to a little girl , I thought. Cyanine Bolingbroke wasn’t that little - she was eleven - but she was still treated like a child. No, like an aristocrat. Mother had never brought me breakfast in bed, not even when I’d been ill. I hated to think what my stepfather would have said if I’d asked for breakfast in bed. He would have clouted me without a second thought. What has my life become ?
I looked around with interest as I reached the top of the stairs and made my way down the corridor to Cyanine’s suite. Reginald’s suite couldn’t be that far away. Jill had been showing me around the upper levels, late at night to make sure we weren’t seen, but she had never shown me Reginald’s suite. She seemed to be absolutely terrified of him. I didn’t blame her, but I wished she could be a little more forthcoming. It wasn’t as if I could question anyone else.
Cyanine’s door was bright pink. I hesitated, then tapped on the panel. There was a long pause before the door opened, revealing a darkened room. The lights came on as I entered, nearly tripping over a stuffed toy someone had left by the door. I swallowed a word that would probably have gotten me in real trouble as Cyanine sat up in bed. The flash of panic in her eyes surprised me. Surely she was used to having servants enter her room in the morning.
“Put the tray on the table, then go,” she said. Her voice was very quiet, as if she didn’t expect me to obey. “You’re dismissed.”
“I have orders to stay with you,” I said, as I put down the tray and looked around. The entire room was bright pink; the walls were lined with pink bookshelves, the open wardrobe crammed with pink dresses ... the only things that weren’t pink were a small collection of stuffed animals and china dolls, the latter so fragile that I was glad they were out of easy reach. I shuddered to think how much they probably cost. I’d be in debt for so long that my great-grandchildren would probably still be paying it off if I broke one.
And if she leaves me alive , I thought. Jill had warned me that the family’s children had been studying magic from a very early age. They weren’t supposed to use their talents on the servants, she’d said, but accidents happened. She might turn me into a frog or hit me with a fireball if I break her doll .
“Fine,” Cyanine said. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can sit there and say nothing. What’s for breakfast?”
My lips twitched. “My Lady, do you want me to answer your question or do you want me to say nothing?”
“That’s Young Mistress ,” Cyanine said, darkly. She gave me a sidelong look, her blue eyes puzzled. “What’s for breakfast?”
I lifted the lid. “Fish and eggs,” I said. I thought it was chopped kipper, but I wasn’t sure. Cook had done ... something ... to the fish that made it different. “And some slices of bread and a glass of milk.”
“That will be mother’s influence, I’ll be bound,” Cyanine said. She took the tray and started to eat, without enjoyment. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
I blinked, honestly. “I don’t think we’ve met,” I said. I didn't think she’d seen me on my daily rounds, with or without Jill. I was sure Jill would have pointed Cyanine out if we’d been close enough to see her. “You might have mistaken me for someone else.”
Cyanine gave me a sharp look, then shrugged. “I can take my own bath, thank you,” she said, changing the subject with surprising speed. “You can wait here.”
“Yes, Young Mistress,” I said, unable to hide my surprise. “And then ... what am I supposed to do?”
“My governess makes me practice the violin,” Cyanine said. Her tone suggested that the governess was guilty of nothing less than cold-blooded torture. “Or do my daily handwriting practice before the tutor arrives to fill my brains with mush. She hates me, you see.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t,” I said, automatically. This girl, this little girl, had opportunities that I had never seen. The richest child in Water Shallot wouldn’t be able to study magic, let alone afford a private tutor. “And she ...”
“Hah,” Cyanine said. She put the tray back on the table - I tried not to notice that she’d only eaten a third of the food, something that would have landed me in hot water as a child - and scrambled out of bed. She was taller than I’d realised, tall for her age. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”
She hurried into the washroom, slamming the door behind her. I rolled my eyes, then looked around the room as I heard the sound of running water. It was just too pink for me. I wondered, sourly, if Cyanine had insisted on pink when she’d grown old enough to have an option or if her parents thought it was the best colour for a young child. My mother hadn’t been anything like as sentimental about childhood. She’d put me and my half-sisters to work as soon as we’d been old enough to be useful.
The water stopped. Cyanine returned five minutes later, wearing a short-sleeved dress that - mercifully - wasn’t pink, although the dark blue material still looked expensive. She winked at me, then opened a cupboard and produced a large violin case. I felt another flicker of envy. The only way to learn to play an instrument in Water Shallot was to seek an apprenticeship with the Musician’s Guild and they were reputed to be unpleasant. Anyone who didn’t have a licence to play would be in real trouble.
Cyanine smiled at me. “Tell them I played ...”
A sharp knock echoed through the room. Cyanine paled, suddenly terrified. I stared, then turned as the door opened. Reginald stepped into the room, wearing a long red coat and white shirt that made him look like a soldier on ceremonial duty. I stared, then hastily dropped a curtsey. I couldn't let him get a good look at me. I just couldn’t .
Behind me, Cyanine whimpered. I shuddered.
“You,” Reginald said. It took me a moment to realise he was talking to me. “Get me some wine. Now.”
I hesitated. “My Lord, I have orders to stay with Lady Cyanine and ...”
“You now have orders to get me some wine,” Reginald snapped. His voice hardened as he lifted his hand, his fingers settling into a casting pose. “Or do you wish to be punished for your defiance?”
I heard Cyanine whimper again. She was utterly terrified. I didn’t want to leave him alone with her, even for a moment. But I didn’t dare disobey. Regin
ald could not be allowed a good look at me. I gritted my teeth, telling myself that Reginald wouldn’t dare really hurt his half-sister as I walked past him and out the door. Behind me, I heard it slam closed. I hoped - I prayed - that Cyanine would be unharmed. Reginald alone was bad enough, but the terror in Cyanine’s eyes was worse. She didn’t think she would be left unharmed.
The Alchemist's Apprentice Page 18