Another item for my endless to-do list. Saskaya and Raina are working hard to take the pressure off me, but I felt guilty for continuing to dump my responsibilities on them. I need to start picking up the slack.
After lunch, we walked Arya back to her job at the local paper shop. She manages the inventory and the front counter, and was supposed to be learning how to make paper from agricultural byproducts like rice leaves, or sturdier stuff from palm leaves harvested in the south. Currently, that stock is exorbitantly priced due to how many palms were razed during the war, and the difficulty of transporting raw materials. Arya never envisioned herself as a papermaker, though.
This would be a great time to hint that she should make preparations to join my court in the fall, if I intended to marry her brother. Since I don’t, the omission hangs uncomfortably in the air.
I purchased a small quantity of brown sketch paper, not unlike the stuff used to wrap my new clothes. The cost didn’t deplete my meager purse too much. It doesn’t feel like much of a gift for Lorcan—especially considering his generosity in hosting me and buying me too much clothing—but it will round out the better one I brought from the castle.
I have owed him a birthday gift for several years, now. His party will be an opportunity to even the scales.
CHAPTERNINE
By the time we noticed the thickening cloud cover outside, it was too late to dash home and avoid the rain. Lorcan and I stood outside the shop beneath the roof overhang. A gust of cold wind blew through the town, flapping my skirt around my knees and whipping my hair into my eyes. I shivered.
Lorcan took me in his arms. “We should have left sooner. This will go on for a while.”
“Mmm.” I leaned back against his chest. “I’ll bring my new sweater next time.”
He kissed my cheek. “Why? You have me.”
For now.I didn’t spoil the moment by giving voice to my thoughts.
A canvas-topped wagon pulled by a determined-looking pony trudged up the hill and into view.
“Lorcan,” called the driver. “Are you and the lady stranded? Want a lift?”
“Melcan.” He waved. “If you have space.”
“The princess can sit next to me; I don’t bite.”
Melcan is at least seventy, with a weather-beaten face and uneven tufts of hair protruding from beneath his cap and the insides of his ears. I took his proffered hand and hopped into the box next to him, tucking my skirt around my legs, shivering. Lorcan jumped into the back of the wagon alongside dirt-crusted farming implements.
“It’s no royal coach, Princess, but I hope you’ll tolerate my humble conveyance.”
“We appreciate your generosity, Melcan.” I used the royal we to speak for Lorcan and myself. Glancing back at him, I smiled. Poor Lorcan’s knees are bent up to his chin. Alone, he probably would have risked getting wet. Or hung about his sister’s shop, or gone to his mother’s. Anyone in this town would open their doors to him.
And many of the women would invite him into their beds. A fact I’d best keep in mind. I still don’t trust him on that score.
“I thought I left in time to get back before the rain started. Pickles here doesn’t like getting wet much,” Melcan said. The pony flicked her ears with irritation. “Water gets inside. We were down in the fields tending my daughter’s plot.”
“What have you planted?”
“Squash, rice, and beans,” Melcan turned to me. “Hoping it will be enough to get through the winter. Two daughters, both widows, and five children to feed between them. Never thought I’d be the only man in the house at my age.”
“I’m so sorry for your losses.” Trite, but true.
“It’s been a difficult time for everyone. We’re all tickled to have you staying with us. The last time royalty set foot in Tenáho Village would have been in your grandmother’s time. She was a great traveler. Loved to be out in the countryside.”
I smile. “I barely knew her. I was little when she passed.”
“Wonderful lady. Unpretentious, like you. I bet your mother, the late queen, was the same way.”
A sharp pang of longing in my chest. “I remember she liked to be out among her people. My father preferred to remain in the castle. Let people bring their problems to him, if they’re so important.”
A frisson of shock went through me, as if I’d spoken too bluntly.
“Aye,” Melcan nodded. “Good king, but a bit removed from village life, if I may speak so freely. It’s how the Skía got such a hold in the country.”
“What do you mean?” A crash of thunder overhead sends Pickles lurching into a trot. “I thought they’ve always been a threat.”
