All of Silver Lake was in a state of exhilaration. No outrider had been sent to give notice of the Empress’s impending arrival, so when she strode into the castle with a retinue of guards following not far behind, there was a period of confusion, followed by the rapturous gratification of those within. They had not received their mistress for some fourteen months, if the chamberlain was to be believed, though the Empress insisted it had not been half so long. As for those without, they were equally gratified and more than equally relieved to find that the castle would not, as they might have feared, fall under siege.
There was some anxiety on behalf of the domestics as to the lack of preparations, which was only natural, but the Empress was quick to insist that little would be required, as she did not intend to stay above a week. Besides, she reminded the chamberlain, they would eat only the fish caught from the lake and whatever was in season or could be spared from the stores while she was in residence, as was her custom when visiting the place. The chamberlain balked at this, insisting there was certainly something fit to be butchered in the pens, but the Empress replied only that the sun was yet high, and there were plenty of hours in which they might catch a pleasant meal, so long as they did not further delay.
The Empress was markedly eager to receive her guests, but not to the extent that she would forgo bathing and dressing properly, something which Mouse, as the only lady present at Silver Lake, was obliged to see to.
But Mouse did not mind being called upon for such a task, for mercifully, she had been allowed to stay back while the others rode out to the northern part of the lake. She seized upon this opportunity with the Empress gone to recover herself from the journey and see leisurely to her own toilet, soaking in the warm water brought up by the kitchen maids and inhaling deeply the scent of herbs that had been poured into the bath.
One of the maids, a girl who Mouse did not think could have seen more than eleven summers, stayed back when the others left, twisting her hands together nervously before venturing at last to speak. “May I attend you, my lady? If it pleases you, that is,” she said timidly. Mouse smiled gently at her, touched by the girl’s earnestness, and replied: “Indeed, nothing would please me more.” The girl bowed deeply, blushing with pride. “Then I am at your service, Lady Maudeleine,” she said, at once taking up a cloth and bringing it to the basin, and Mouse could see that already her timidity of a few moments ago was beginning to fade under the persuasion of her self-administered duty.
Mouse was almost surprised that the girl should know her and seek to wait on her, but more than that, she was grateful to the girl. Her deferent and doting manner reminded Mouse of what it meant—what it should mean—to be a lady of the court. The girl had no reason to fear that any superfluous show of kindness to Mouse might earn her an ugly remark from the Empress, and so it was with a constant stream of pleasantries that she carried about her work, observing to Mouse how well she looked and how the sun upon her cheeks had brought out the warmth of her eyes. Mouse did not know where the girl had learned to speak so prettily but gathered that she had long awaited the opportunity to rehearse her manners, so keen was she to rise to what was put before her.
After her bath, the girl combed out Mouse’s hair, starting at the ends, as Mouse instructed her, so as not to let the tresses catch in knots. But the girl’s hands were little practiced, and though Mouse smiled at her all the while, it was just as often to conceal a wince as it was to indicate any real satisfaction. If there was one thing Mouse was good at, it was performing her work adeptly and quietly, and though the same could not be said for the little kitchen maid, Mouse thought there was some good in this. The girl showed no fear, no apprehension, and the longer she waited on Mouse, the more Mouse’s heart swelled with fondness.
The girl hummed to herself as she pulled a soft-bristled brush over Mouse’s long, dark hair, her tiny fingers wrapped around the carved horn handle, and Mouse found herself closing her eyes and letting her mind drift in a state of pleasant relaxation. She began to wonder if it might not be possible to bring the girl back to Kriftel where she could learn to be a proper lady’s maid. But the girl, she reminded herself, was not necessarily an orphan like herself. In fact, it was more like that she had a family here, a mother and a father, perhaps sisters and brothers. And it would be no favor to them to have the girl removed, for though Silver Lake was not a seat of power, it still held the prestige of being a royal residence and with little of the dangers. Here, they need not worry about constant overcrowding or an endless flow of strangers passing through. They had no reason to fear a rebellion taking the castle or a plague brought from an overseas envoy killing them all. Here, they had the land and the lake, and an easy life was theirs between the Empress’s visits. It was a life that many might envy, and so Mouse quickly put the thought from her mind.
When it came time to dress, though the girl could be of little help, Mouse was quick to shower her with praise, admiring the dexterity of her fingers and her resolve to ensure that all the fastenings were properly seen too, even if they were, in fact, not.
“I pray you will call upon me if you find you are in need of anything at all,” said the girl before leaving Mouse’s chambers to return to the duties that awaited her in the kitchens. Mouse smiled and inclined her head in assent.
“And who shall I call for?” she asked, admiring once again the girl’s deportment and precocity.
“Elke, my lady,” replied the girl with a bow. And with that, she departed, leaving Mouse with naught but her own thoughts.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Mouse stood on the steps of the keep, watching as the riders dismounted in the bailey. The man from earlier, she realized, the one who had been taken to the tower to await trial, was either short of sight or did not know how to count, for there were at least twice as many Foilund men as he had reported, and they all stood now at the foot of the steps, making their introductions. "Strange men," he had called them, and though Mouse could see why he might, she thought there were many more appropriate words to describe their fascinating appearance.
Mouse had never seen a Foilunder before, at least not up close, and it was only now that she realized just how much they truly stood out among their Teppish counterparts. They were tall, all of them, taller even than Dag, the stable master, and Dag was the tallest person Mouse knew. All were fair of head, some among them with hair so light as to appear almost white in the summer sun, and even their mounts were flaxen. Several of the men wore their hair long, with plaits running through it, a distinction that in the Arosian Empire, at least, was reserved for only the most decorated knights and even then was often forgone due to the difficulty in maintaining it.
Mouse stood watching as they dismounted upon the grass of the bailey to be received. She studied them closely, the way their hide doublets stretched across their broad shoulders and their ears glittered with gold, and was surprised at the thrill she felt as she awaited their admittance. Perhaps, she thought to herself, it was not so difficult to understand the Empress’s inclination toward her northerner after all. Sigurd, who had been distinguished by the Empress, did not appear so different from any of the rest. His silvery yellow hair was tied back away from his face, and he wore a gilded knife in his belt, but otherwise, he was dressed the same as his men and bore no crest or crown of any kind, so far as Mouse could observe.
Mouse knew him to be a Dietric, a leader among his people, but she was not as intimately familiar with the ruling structure of Foilund as she might have been, something which she now chastised herself for. It was her duty, she reminded herself, to understand the politics of all nations, not just her own, to stay as informed as possible on matters both foreign and domestic. And now she would be forced to be among people who she remembered from her tomes only in an almost superficial sense. She knew their borders, their chief exports, their allies and adversaries, but that was not enough. She should know their lineages, their customs. She wished desperately that she had been made aware of the purpose of their visit, that she had had more time to prepare before meeting them, but all she could do now was to recall what she could and hope not to embarrass herself, and by extension, the empire.
Even from what distance she stood at, Mouse could see the light burning in the Empress’s eyes as she looked at Sigurd. It was not diplomacy that affected her manner toward him, she thought to herself from her perch on the steps, it was passion. Whether it was love was another matter entirely, but it was as plain as the clouds in the sky that the Empress was infatuated with the man.
As the pair mounted the steps of the castle, the rest of the Foilunders following close behind, Mouse felt her heart begin to beat faster. She suddenly became aware of the fact that she was the only lady the Empress had brought and therefore the only Arosian nobility, apart from the Empress, in the whole of Silver Lake. That meant that not only was it incumbent upon her to act as representative of the court, but she would likely be under the constant scrutiny of the foreigners.
She clasped her hands together in front of her to hide their trembling as she prepared to endure the gaze of two dozen men who likely did not encounter many southerners and fewer still women of Mouse’s dark coloring and in such a position as she was. Nevertheless, she stood up straight, reminding herself of the reprimand she would receive from Ludger if he were here and imagining the lick of his staff upon her shin.
As the Empress and the Dietric neared her step, she bowed deeply, hoping desperately that they would pass by quickly and that this whole reception might end without her having to open her lips. But as she rose, she found that Sigurd, Dietric of Foilund, had halted his ascent and stood now in front of her, staring. She did not wish to meet his gaze, such was her discomfiture, but knew that she must. She slowly lifted her eyes, making note of the bronze chain slipped about the Foilunder’s waist and the carved ivory buttons of his doublet, and looked up into the man’s face. He was handsome, to be sure, with a square jaw and a nose only slightly crooked, but what stood out to her most, as she was certain was the case for all who met him, were his eyes. They were a bright, dazzling blue, the likes of which she had never seen before, nearly opalescent in their luster. They seemed to glow, thought Mouse, like colored glass when the morning sun comes pouring brightly in.
The northerner looked intently at her but did not smile. In fact, his countenance seemed to betray no emotion whatsoever. Mouse could feel the color rise in her cheeks as he continued his study of her, but she had nowhere to hide, and perhaps worse still, nothing to say.
“I see you have brought your shadow,” the Dietric said at last in a thick northern accent, his voice deep and even. The Empress, to whom this remark was clearly addressed, was waiting on the step above him. She did not like when attention was drawn to the likeness between herself and Mouse, for her ego protested comparison of any kind, and she perceived it as a strike against her vanity, even if her very life may at times depend on the girl’s ability to resemble her as closely as possible.
Though the Dietric’s remark may have paid no compliment to Mouse in any direct way, the fact that he still stood staring at her spoke loudly enough. “That is the thing about shadows,” the Empress said lightly, no doubt trying to conceal her annoyance. “They follow you wherever you go.”
After another moment, the Dietric finally broke his gaze, and Mouse was glad at last when to see him walk through the castle doors alongside the Empress. She unclasped her hands and released the breath she had been unconsciously holding. If she could endure his gaze, she could certainly endure the rest, and it was with little discomfort that she now awaited the other Foilunders.
She was not sure how she felt about the Dietric. He was fine and tall and handsome, but she could not read his expression the way she could an Arosian’s, and it made her feel ill at ease. But if nothing else, she thought to herself as she kept her place on the step, she could count on the Empress to keep them separated, for she would certainly take every measure to prevent any partiality from developing.
All the better, thought Mouse to herself, for here at Silver Lake where there was no Ludger, no Johannes, no council, she might finally find some peace.