After arriving back to the manor, it took several hours to find the necessary staff to assist the Lord and Lady in unloading. The captain and his men had found that some of their serfs had returned on their own, but there were many who had remained in town or who were yet to be found. It would take a few days to locate the rest; but whether they were among the fallen or the working men remained to be seen. The sun was nearly set by the time any of the scullery maids had been recalled to the manor. They were then instructed at once to prepare dinner and set the table while the Lord and his family changed out of their traveling clothes.

Frederick had changed on his own in a hurry and was down in his study with the door closed before Annette had even realized. After sending the boys off to their rooms to unpack and change, Annette herself retired to the master’s suite to do the same. She was accompanied by her handmaiden, Lydia, with whom she had decent rapport.

Annette, despite being of nobility, was of a rather contrarian sort. She often shirked the rigid duties of her social class in favor of more unconventional things. Whether she did it for the thrill or because she saw unique value in those actions, tended to change from situation to situation. But, she had, over those many years, found it worthwhile to develop friendship with her attendants.

After all, friends talk.

“Where you scared, my lady?”

Annette felt the tension release from her head as Lydia undid her hair tie. She shook her head gently from side to side, letting her silken, brunette hair unravel down her back.

“It was certainly startling,” she conceded. “Thankfully, neither of them were hurt.”

Lydia left from behind Annette and went to the wardrobe to fetch her night gown.

Annette studied her; her shoulders were drawn up and he hand motions were small. She knew Lydia well— well enough to know that she was holding something back from her.

“What are your feelings on the matter, Lydia?” Annette asked.

“My lady?”

“You are of the people of this town,” Annette began, “You may be in service to this house, but your family, neighbors and friends are not in your same position.”

Annette approached her and placed a gentle hand on hers.

“I am the Lady of this town, as well. I wish to know what lies within the hearts of our people. Yet they will not talk with me like they would with you.”

“They…”

“You may speak freely, Lydia. I would not betray this trust.”

Lydia hesitated a few moments. Then, with a straightening of her shoulders, she gained the confidence to continue.

“Forgive me, my lady, but there are many who are angry with the Marquess. They blame his Lordship for leaving. And they show open support instead for Mayor Rothwell and for Lord Mannigold.”

“Sir Perry bested the dragon. This is quite the feat for any man.”

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“It was not only Lord Mannigold, my lady.”

Annette gave her a curious look.

“What do you mean?”

“There was another…” Lydia began, “An alfkin they say, called Telhari.”

“An Elfkin?”

Annette was genuinely surprised. She had no idea such a creature was residing within their town, let alone that it would be capable of such a thing.

“Are you certain?”

Lydia nodded.

“They say he could command the winds and call forth storms in the sky. Together with Sir Perry and his guild, they killed the dragon.”

“That is quite the story, Lydia. Do you really believe it?”

She nodded.

“I have seen it.”

Annette raised an eyebrow at her. Lydia saw this and immediately fumbled over her words to clarify.

“I-I have not witnessed the dragon, my lady. I would surely have died of fright. But I have been to the streets thereafter, and to Lord Mannigold’s estate. The man Telhari, and another woman from Lord Mannigold’s guild, they were healing the townsfolk…with their magic.”

“Healing with magic?”

“Yes, my lady.”

Annette was certainly intrigued, but any more questioning would have to wait. It would be time for dinner soon. She turned from Lydia. Annette then wrapped her hand around her hair and brought it over her shoulder toward her chest. Lydia responded immediately by undoing the lace binding of Annette’s dress. Lydia undressed her one garment of clothing at a time until she was in nothing but her linen smock. Together, they left for the bathroom where a tub of water was waiting.

Lydia dipped her hand into the water and withdrew it quickly.

“I am sorry, my lady. I told them to heat it, but—”

“It is alright,” Annette assured her. “We will make due.”

Annette undressed herself to the last and sat down next to the tub. Lydia hesitated before dipping the wash cloth into the water and pressing it against the Marqionness’ porcelain skin. Annette felt her body twinge as the cold water ran down the small of her back, one numbing drop at a time. It was a strange sensation, somewhere between pain and pleasure, yet she remained motionless as Lydia continued.

“My lady…”

Annette turned her head to Lydia who seemed troubled.

“What is it?”

“There…there are rumors, my lady. Rumors that men from Eadenfros were sent here with swords to kill us…”

Annette said nothing; for she alone among them knew the truth. But it would do neither of them any good to confirm it.

“Gods forgive me, my lady, but they say that Lord Viemen sent them here.”

Her voice was trembling now, no doubt as a consequence of utter fear. Fear that she had spoken ill of her master. And fear for what it would mean if these accusations were true.

Annette felt a pity well up inside her. And though the thought occurred to her, she bit down the urge to speak truthfully and instead began crafting her lie.

“It has been a frightening time indeed,” Annette began as she placed her hand on Lydia’s. “And fear makes fools of us all. But I can assure you, Frederick wants only what is best for Viemen. As for those soldiers… I cannot speak to their actions, nor can I speak to the intention of those in Eadenfros.”

Lydia clasped her hands together and tucked her head.

“Forgive me, my lady! Please! I should never have suggested such a thing!”

“It is alright, Lydia,” Annette said as she placed a motherly hand on her cheek. “There is nothing to forgive.”

Lydia wiped the fearful tears from the corners of her eyes and steadied herself. Annette gave her a smile and turned her back once more toward Lydia, who continued to wash her with ice cold water. Though, in time, Annette ceased to feel its sting. Her mind was occupied instead with burning questions that would not be so easily extinguished. Once she had been cleaned, Annette donned her night gown and received an embroidered shawl from Lydia for extra warmth. Together, the two descended the steps to the dining room and met with the rest of the family.