Floodtide

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Floodtide Page 11

by Heather Rose Jones


  We were at a haberdasher’s shop—the sort that sold gloves and handkerchiefs and bits of lace and ribbon along with everything else. Maisetra Iulien needed a pair of gloves the exact right shade to go with the gown she’d been given as a New Year’s gift, though there was no rush to find them as she wasn’t allowed to go to balls yet.

  As we stepped into the shop, setting the bell over the door jangling, a girl in a plain black maid’s outfit turned away from the counter with a package in her hands and my heart stopped.

  She exclaimed, “Roz!” with a sort of startled squeak.

  After a few tries I managed, “Hullo, Nan.” I wouldn’t have thought she’d want to see me after what she’d said the last time, but she got a sad-hopeful look, like she was glad.

  We stood there frozen for a moment as the shop girl came over to greet Maisetra Iulien. When Nan stepped toward me, looking like she was going to say something, I turned frantically and asked, “Maisetra, may I—”

  Maisetra Iulien glanced at Nan and waved to let me know she wouldn’t need me for a few moments.

  I pulled Nan outside the shop and then around the corner to a little side alley, because I knew that whatever we might have to say to each other needed to be in private. Nan wasn’t interested in talking. As soon as we were out of sight, she pressed me against the side of the building and began kissing me all over, hungry-like. Oh, it was so sweet! I remembered how every inch of her would feel, and my body was tingling all the way down to my toes and fingertips. At the same time I was terrified because someone might turn into the alley at any moment and raise a fuss to see us like that.

  “Nan…Nan,” I started, but I didn’t want to say “don’t.”

  “Roz, I miss you so much!”

  It made me want to kiss away her tears like she’d done for me back when I was new in the city and homesick. I wanted to forget that she’d made it out to be my fault and gotten me dismissed. She was still pressed up against me and I wanted that to last forever. But I remembered what she’d said the last time I saw her and pushed her away. “How’s Ionek?” I asked, like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

  She turned red and wouldn’t look at me.

  “I thought you said he got us in trouble because you told him no.”

  “He did,” Nan protested.

  “And you kept telling him no?”

  Nan didn’t say anything. She reached to touch my cheek. I shoved her away even harder.

  “Roz, you don’t understand. I needed that position. I thought he’d—”

  “And I didn’t need my position?”

  “You’ve done well enough for yourself.” She jerked her head toward the shop where Maisetra Iulien would be waiting for me.

  I wasn’t going to tell her about those awful days walking through cold streets at night. Not and have her gossip it all over town. “So did Ionek get what he wanted after I was gone?”

  She hesitated before answering. “It wasn’t as good as with you, Roz. He was so selfish. And it’s not like I could—”

  I knew what she wasn’t going to say. It’s not like she could give in to him like we had to each other. Not without risking too much. A man could leave you with worse than a lost character. I didn’t care. I pushed past her toward the entrance to the alley. “Enjoy your footman, Nan. Tease him long enough and maybe he’ll marry you, and then you can set up to keep a tavern with a kitchen full of screaming brats.”

  “You too good for me now, Roz?”

  I didn’t answer or look back. I wiped the tears from my cheeks as best I could and went back in the shop.

  I’d hoped Maisetra Iulien would still be looking at gloves and trying to decide what to buy, but when I slipped back through the door, she was standing at the counter with the little package all tied up. I stowed it away in my basket, saying, “I’m sorry, maisetra.”

  It was our last errand, so there was all the walk back to Tiporsel House for her to ask, “Who was that girl? What did she want?”

  “I’m sorry, maisetra,” I repeated. “I didn’t think I’d be so long.” My thoughts were all tangled and I was still aching and hungry from Nan’s kisses. It had been so long since I’d kissed anyone like that. Liv didn’t count because she hadn’t wanted me.

  “But who was she?” she insisted.

  I didn’t know what to say. How much had Maisetra Sovitre told her cousin about me? I mumbled that Nan was a girl I used to work with at another house. Would that be enough? Did Maisetra Iulien know why I’d had to leave there? If she knew and I lied, she’d never trust me again. But if she didn’t know and I told her…

  I couldn’t bear the thought of Maisetra Iulien looking at me the way Mefro Mollin had when she threw me out on the street. Like I was something dirty. Even if Maisetra Iulien didn’t care, the maisetra wouldn’t forgive me for telling her cousin about girls like me. Not if she didn’t know already. I tried to imagine all the things that might have been said between them. Iulien, you watch out for that maid of yours. She does sinful things with other girls. And that before I’d ever had a chance to prove myself.

  It made me think about Tavit. How Ailis had told me his secrets and that was why I thought Liv might like kissing girls. How he asked me, what if Liv hadn’t known? What if he’d been waiting for the right time to tell her and I’d ruined everything? I hadn’t meant to hurt either of them, but I’d only been thinking of myself.

  I’d apologized to Liv, but I never had to Tavit. Now I thought of it, I knew I had to do that too. I could feel my throat go tight like I was going to cry and I hoped Maisetra Iulien wouldn’t ask me any more questions. I guess she’d heard enough or her thoughts had skipped on to something else, because the rest of the walk home was silent.

  I still had my sewing to do for the day, so after Maisetra Iulien was settled at home, I dashed off down the Vezenaf. I’d be sewing past dark to make up my hours, which meant Maisetra Iulien would need to ask someone else to help her change for dinner. I felt guilty about that, even though it was all because she’d asked for my time to go shopping instead. The day would come that I couldn’t go on like this, and my heart near broke thinking I’d have to give up one or the other.

  Celeste knew I was fussing about something. I wanted to ask her about what to say to Tavit, but I’d just promised myself never to tell secrets again. Not that sort of secret. So I told her about seeing Nan and everything she’d said. I was crying by the end of it, but I didn’t mind that in front of Celeste.

  “It’s a hard place to be in,” Celeste said.

  At first I thought she meant me and not knowing what I could and couldn’t tell Maisetra Iulien.

  “She should have known you can’t put a man off by putting a woman before him. That may work out in those romantic stories you read, but an ordinary man won’t stand still to be told a woman comes before him. Nan should have known better and stuck to no. But once she’d spilled it, what could she have done?”

  “She could have been loyal to the end,” I hiccupped.

  “What, do you think you’re the heroine of a gothic novel?”

  Celeste took away the fancywork I’d been sewing on because I couldn’t see for the tears. She handed me something that only needed plain seams.

  “Do you know how stories like that end, Roz? They end with the two of you starving on the streets huddled in each other’s arms as a moral tale for other girls. If your places had been swapped, you would have been a fool not to do the same.”

  “But I loved her!” I blurted out. I was remembering now how much I’d loved her and all the plans we’d made lying there in the dark. Someday we’d set up a shop together. In our wild fancies we talked of running off to see the world. It never would have happened—not the running off part. But maybe the shop part, if we’d saved our money carefully and had a bit of luck. And if Nan had been able to keep her mouth shut.

  Celeste was quiet for a long time the way she had when she was thinking something out. At last she said, “Love’s too fan
cy a thing for the likes of us. It’s like wearing a bonnet with laces and bows for sweeping gutters. It never does you good and gets you in trouble.”

  It sounded like she had someone particular in mind, but not herself. Celeste had never talked about having a sweetheart and I’d never dared to ask. If someone had done the same thing to Celeste that Nan had done to me I would have…I think I would have beaten him bloody. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone making her unhappy.

  It wasn’t much easier to think of someone making her happy, though. I’d gotten comfortable imagining Celeste and me working side by side forever. Sometimes we were running the dress shop together. Sometimes we found a way for her to do charmwork while I made dresses. I was careful not to think about kissing her. I’d learned that lesson.

  I couldn’t even be angry with her for not taking my side about Nan. One thing you could count on with Celeste was she’d tell you truth. When I thought about the other part—about apologizing to Tavit—I realized I didn’t need to ask. I already knew what she’d say and she’d be right.

  It wasn’t as easy as deciding to do it, but the baroness would be traveling in a few weeks, so it was either soon or lose the courage from waiting. I didn’t get back to Tiporsel House until long past dark, all out of breath from walking briskly up the Vezenaf so no one would ask me what I was doing out so late. When I came in around the back way, there he was having a bit of late supper with Marken, so I knew the maisetra and the baroness must have just gotten back from dining out somewhere.

  There’d never be a better time. I grabbed my courage, took a slow breath to settle myself, and said, “I wanted to…to apologize.”

  Marken looked from me to Tavit, and Tavit gave a little jerk of his head—they had all kind of little signals like that for when they were looking after the family—and without a word, Marken picked up his plate and headed down the hallway toward his room.

  We weren’t completely alone, of course. You never really are downstairs. I could hear sounds from the kitchen where they were cleaning pots and dishes. Footsteps going up and down the stairs. Ordinarily I’d be worrying that Maisetra Iulien might ring for me at any time, but she wouldn’t know I was back yet. But someone else might come in, so I took the chair Marken had left and it all came tumbling out with my voice low so no one else could hear.

  I didn’t say I was sorry and leave it at that. I told him everything, from the beginnings with Nan at the Fillerts all the way up to Maisetra Iulien asking about her at the shop and not having any idea what she knew about me. I don’t know why I spilled it all except maybe I thought it was fair he should know things about me because I knew things about him. If he’d said anything in the middle, I don’t know that I could have gone on. But all he did was listen, up until I finished with, “And that made me think about what you said—that it didn’t belong to me to tell Liv about you. And, well, I’m sorry.”

  I couldn’t tell what Tavit was thinking. He never showed much on his face except when it was that fierce, warning look. That must be something they teach you when you learn to be an armin, though I don’t think Maistir Brandel was very good at it. Or maybe he didn’t have to learn that part because he was family.

  Tavit was quiet a long time. I was about to stand up and leave when he said softly, “It’s not an easy life, having to hide who you are.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant himself or me.

  He continued, “It isn’t easy being yourself either. The world isn’t made for people like us. We stumble along the best we can.” He took a slow, sighing breath. “I had guessed that my life is a subject of open gossip in the household.”

  “But it’s not,” I said quickly. “Ailis wouldn’t have told me at all except…” No, that wouldn’t help. And now I’d ratted on Ailis as well. “Ailis says it doesn’t matter what we think, it only matters that the baroness says you’re a man.”

  “No,” Tavit said, sounding tired. “That doesn’t matter either. But it does make things easier.”

  My mind was spinning with all sorts of questions, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that one chat made Tavit and me best friends. Now I did stand up, but Tavit grabbed my arm. Not like he was angry or anything, but like he wanted to make sure I paid attention.

  “There are lots of secrets in this house. I don’t know which ones you already know. You be careful how you talk about them. Best not to talk at all. People are willing to overlook a lot if they aren’t forced to see it.”

  And of course I couldn’t ask what he meant by any of that. Then Maitelen came in and saw me and said that since I was here I could take Maisetra Iulien’s night tray up, and that was an end of any more talking. But what Tavit had said kept me awake that night, wondering who else at Tiporsel House had secrets like ours.

  * * *

  Maisetra Iulien had secrets, but I knew most of hers. I didn’t always know if they were supposed to be secret. I kept my mouth shut. It was easier that way. So, when she asked if I could spend a whole day as her companion and hire Liv for the day as well, I guessed she hadn’t told the maisetra what she planned to be doing. I was certain of it when she said, “Ask Liv if she’s allowed…that is, I know she’s not supposed to take men as passengers, but that’s only when she’s alone, right? It would be permitted if we were there?”

  So it wasn’t just her doing something that maybe she shouldn’t, she wanted Liv to as well.

  “Will Maistir Brandel be coming with us then?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I didn’t ask if there were anyone else. I didn’t want to know. Even Maisetra Iulien couldn’t have sweet-talked Brandel into spending the whole day following her around without a good reason. I hadn’t told anyone about Mesner Aukustin joining us at the Strangers’ Market. She hadn’t asked me not to, but I figured it belonged to her to tell, not me.

  I said I’d ask Liv and work it out with Mefro Dominique. Maisetra Sovitre’s school wouldn’t start until the middle of January, so we had a week to find the time. I thought through the dresses we were working on at the shop. It was the little season between the New Year’s Court and the start of Lent. We weren’t as busy as some other times, but I told Maisetra Iulien that I’d need a whole day in exchange except for dressing her in the morning.

  I wasn’t sure what Maisetra Iulien thought of my apprenticeship. She’d joked about how having me to do for her half-time was her punishment for running away from home, but I also knew she hadn’t had her own lady’s maid back in Chalanz. So it wasn’t like she was used to having one person to dance attendance on her all the time. But trading time meant asking one of the chamber maids to take my duties. Usually Charsintek arranged it, but that might mean her telling the maisetra about our all-day excursion. I figured I could trade favors on my own this time. That’s how keeping secrets works: one step at a time until you’ve walked so far down the road it’s too far to turn back.

  Chapter Twelve

  January 1825—Exploring

  I made it right with Mefro Dominique to give her a whole extra day once Maisetra Iulien was back at school and fixed things with Liv to pick us up after the market deliveries. There wasn’t much to deliver in winter.

  At first I wondered if Maistir Brandel had changed his mind because he didn’t come down to the Tiporsel House dock with us, but Maisetra Iulien said, “They’re meeting us at the palace dock near the Pont Vezzen.”

  That made it clear who “they” was. How odd my life had become! It took most girls years to work up from downstairs to housemaid before they could dream of doing for a fine lady. And here I was dressing a young woman who kept company with the Dowager Princess’s son. But this wasn’t how girls like Maisetra Iulien were supposed to meet boys. It should have been balls and dinner parties, not sneaking out to row up and down the river with them. If it wasn’t sneaking, why didn’t Maistir Brandel bring Mesner Aukustin home and have us all leave together? I guessed maybe Mesner Aukustin was sneaking out too unless his tutor was coming, but he wasn’t my re
sponsibility. Maistir Brandel was the one training for an armin, so it was his job to say no if it needed saying.

  When Maisetra Iulien gave the direction, Liv protested. “Can’t stop there without a fare says so! That’s how it is with any of the great house landings. It’s in the charter.”

  When Liv brought up the rivermen’s charter there wasn’t any arguing. But Maisetra Iulien answered, “There’s a fare says so.”

  Then Liv worked out who we were picking up the same way I had.

  I didn’t see what was so special about the palace dock, except that the stone pillars were carved a bit more than most. A lot of the private landings we passed were marble. Liv said she hated them for getting out because it was more slippery than regular stone.

  Another difference was that the landing wasn’t behind a house. There wasn’t room for anything between the river and the street there by the Pont Vezzen. A set of steps zigzagged up the river wall to an ironwork gate at the top and a little guardhouse where a uniformed soldier kept the keys. At the landing itself there was another iron gate in front of a dark tunnel leading back into the stone of the riverbank itself. I didn’t think they’d come that way. The palace was all the way up on the Plaiz, six or eight blocks away, but only a bit of a walk.

  Liv sent Chennek up onto the landing to carry the bow line around the cleat as usual, then she snugged the boat in against the stone with the hook on one of her crutches, rather than letting it drift close, because the current swirled around the footings of the bridge. The guard handed Mesner Aukustin down into the boat, though he looked like he’d rather have scrambled down by himself like Maistir Brandel did.

  Maisetra Iulien had been sitting in the bow, looking forward, which was where passengers usually sat. That left me in the back to balance, but I liked being where I could watch Liv. So of course Mesner Aukustin went up front too, which left Maistir Brandel with me in the stern. Liv untied the knot of the bow line beside her and looked over her shoulder before casting off to ask, “Where’ll it be, mesner?”

 

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