her days were busy. Every morning she had to meet with Tamman and Mem to learn what her day was supposed to hold, and then with one after another of her father’s advisors to listen to what they said about the affairs of Glassforge and the surrounding farms. She tried not to dislike them all on his account, but…she didn’t like them. They were condescending old men—and a few condescending old women—who were not pleased to think of Nimmira depending on a girl for defense and direction. Every one of them would have preferred Brann. They didn’t say so, but Keri was sure it was true.
And Keri explained more times than she could count that she’d deliberately opened up Nimmira because she thought this was a good time for herself and for Nimmira to become better acquainted with the people of Tor Carron and Eschalion.
At least Lucas and Tassel had done a fine job of putting across the idea that Nimmira had intentionally thinned its protective boundary. They were both good at it. People thought Keri might be overconfident, that maybe she’d made a mistake when she deliberately invited strangers to her ascension. Lots of people probably thought she was a fool, lots of them probably thought she was terribly vain, but she hoped that
very few
thought she had simply let the mist burn away
by accident,
or guessed that she had no way to bring it back.
And as soon as the sorcerer from Eschalion arrived, Keri would have to persuade him and all the Bear soldiers and all her own people that she truly was the Lady of Nimmira and that she really did have the ability to protect her land against any Outside power. Her half brothers and closest confidants and the Timekeeper himself might know the truth, but she hoped that no one else would be quite sure.
Many times over those few days, she longed to run back across town to her own bakery and the little house behind it, fragrant with sugar and fruit preserves and rose petals and mint and memories of childhood. She longed to shut behind her the door that did not quite fit in its frame and make a soothing tea and a fancy cake and remember her mother teaching her to whip cream just stiff enough and swirl caramelized sugar into fine golden strands. She had always dreamed of being Lady of Nimmira, of being what a Lady should be, of doing it
right.
And now all she wanted was to run away and bury herself in her bakery and never think about anything but sugar and cream ever again.
What she emphatically did not want to do was let her father’s staff dress her in a beautiful gown that she knew must have once belonged to one of Lord Dorric’s discarded women. She did not want to descend at last to the portico, step out of the House into the view of the whole town, and be formally invested in her father’s place. She
most
particularly
did not want to face the Bear’s soldiers or the Wyvern’s sorcerer and pretend that she was glad to meet them, that she was perfectly at ease despite their presence.
Though, she had to admit, at least the gown was extremely beautiful. Nevia, like Tassel, did know exactly what would suit Keri’s coppery dark hair and amber skin. No doubt the wardrobe mistress had had a great deal of practice matching lovely gowns to all sorts of women.
For this occasion, Nevia had brought out a gown of muted bronze, with double rows of buttons down the tailored front and single rows down the narrow sleeves. The gown had yards and yards of fabric and a weighted hem that made it swirl heavily. Nevia had also found matching soft-sided boots. The boots came up nearly to Keri’s knees, and they, too, had decorative buttons up the sides. The wardrobe mistress had also found bronze and copper combs for Keri’s hair, and a necklet of flat bronze and copper links with an amber drop suspended in the center of each link.
Linnet, Keri’s youngest maid, had done Keri’s hair, with many flickering sideways glances because she did not seem to dare meet the new Lady’s eyes. Even so,
And Keri explained more times than she could count that she’d deliberately opened up Nimmira because she thought this was a good time for herself and for Nimmira to become better acquainted with the people of Tor Carron and Eschalion.
At least Lucas and Tassel had done a fine job of putting across the idea that Nimmira had intentionally thinned its protective boundary. They were both good at it. People thought Keri might be overconfident, that maybe she’d made a mistake when she deliberately invited strangers to her ascension. Lots of people probably thought she was a fool, lots of them probably thought she was terribly vain, but she hoped that
very few
thought she had simply let the mist burn away
by accident,
or guessed that she had no way to bring it back.
And as soon as the sorcerer from Eschalion arrived, Keri would have to persuade him and all the Bear soldiers and all her own people that she truly was the Lady of Nimmira and that she really did have the ability to protect her land against any Outside power. Her half brothers and closest confidants and the Timekeeper himself might know the truth, but she hoped that no one else would be quite sure.
Many times over those few days, she longed to run back across town to her own bakery and the little house behind it, fragrant with sugar and fruit preserves and rose petals and mint and memories of childhood. She longed to shut behind her the door that did not quite fit in its frame and make a soothing tea and a fancy cake and remember her mother teaching her to whip cream just stiff enough and swirl caramelized sugar into fine golden strands. She had always dreamed of being Lady of Nimmira, of being what a Lady should be, of doing it
right.
And now all she wanted was to run away and bury herself in her bakery and never think about anything but sugar and cream ever again.
What she emphatically did not want to do was let her father’s staff dress her in a beautiful gown that she knew must have once belonged to one of Lord Dorric’s discarded women. She did not want to descend at last to the portico, step out of the House into the view of the whole town, and be formally invested in her father’s place. She
most
particularly
did not want to face the Bear’s soldiers or the Wyvern’s sorcerer and pretend that she was glad to meet them, that she was perfectly at ease despite their presence.
Though, she had to admit, at least the gown was extremely beautiful. Nevia, like Tassel, did know exactly what would suit Keri’s coppery dark hair and amber skin. No doubt the wardrobe mistress had had a great deal of practice matching lovely gowns to all sorts of women.
For this occasion, Nevia had brought out a gown of muted bronze, with double rows of buttons down the tailored front and single rows down the narrow sleeves. The gown had yards and yards of fabric and a weighted hem that made it swirl heavily. Nevia had also found matching soft-sided boots. The boots came up nearly to Keri’s knees, and they, too, had decorative buttons up the sides. The wardrobe mistress had also found bronze and copper combs for Keri’s hair, and a necklet of flat bronze and copper links with an amber drop suspended in the center of each link.
Linnet, Keri’s youngest maid, had done Keri’s hair, with many flickering sideways glances because she did not seem to dare meet the new Lady’s eyes. Even so,
Similar Books
