Emeri was sitting at the table reading when Caste returned from the fort. The thunder had not lied when it said a storm was approaching. It was pouring in earnest and the drops pounded the roof of Suvau and Yolana’s home. Caste’s shoulders and hair were soaked and he wiped his boots before entering the kitchen, shutting the weather out with finality.

She looked up and smiled. “How was supper?”

“Very amusing.” Caste muttered.

“Oh dear…not one of Sir and Lady Fereak’s better nights?”

“I have no basis for comparison…but I would say not.” Caste sighed. “Why did they even get married? They can’t stand each other.”

Emeri closed her book. “Lady Alonin was enamoured by the notion of marrying a knight and Sir Fereak could only pick from noblewomen, of which she was one.”

“I can understand Lady Alonin marrying, moving to Fort Omra and becoming disillusioned with her surroundings,” Caste admitted and sat down opposite Emeri, “but Sir Fereak didn’t have to marry. Many knights remain unmarried, preferring their duties to the pursuits of the flesh.” He looked up in surprise at Emeri’s chortle. “What did I say?”

“Pursuits of the flesh?” Emeri laughed. “Oh…oh dear…”

“It’s a tactful description!”

“Caste, do you really think knights are unaccustomed to ‘pursuits of the flesh’?”

Caste could feel a rush of redness threatening. He swallowed and tried to calm himself down, willing it to retreat. “Of course not…but pursuits of the flesh often lead to children…a family…most knights are too busy with soldiers and safety to indulge in carnal desires…oh stop laughing.”

“Pursuits of the flesh and carnal desires…” Emeri licked her lips and shook her head. “Perhaps if Sir Fereak lived further north he might have a lover, one he could pick from whatever category of class he liked. He could even take a servant for a tumble and no one would care,” Caste gritted his teeth, the blush blooming, “but Fort Omra has a reputation as strong as the knight it was named after and there is an expectation that the knight in charge of it must embody its namesake with many…tumbles.”

“Doesn’t sound like there’s much tumbling going on between husband and wife.” Caste muttered. “Lady Fereak seemed to imply that Sir Fereak didn’t like her…even on that level.”

Emeri sighed. “I…I do not know for certain…but I think Sir Fereak prefers the company of his soldiers to that of his wife.”

“Is that so unsurprising for a knight? Men drinking, belching, sword fighting and grunting together?” Caste saw Emeri’s expression. “What?”

“When I say, prefers the company of men…I mean…prefers the intimate company…”

Caste’s restrained blush flooded his body without mercy, even streaking down his arms. “Oh…” He tried to swallow, failed and tried again. “So…he married Lady Alonin as a pretence…to protect his reputation?”

Emeri shook her head, her beads jingling. “I don’t know and I may be wrong…but Lady Alonin would not be the first noblewoman to marry a knight and have all her childhood dreams dashed because her husband didn’t live up to her expectations.” She put the bowl of dough she’d kneaded earlier on the table and removed the cloth cover, peering in to see how it was rising. “Did you ask Cleric Severo about the chest?”

“He’d already been drinking heavily before he’d arrived at the table.” Caste stood up, shoulders bent. “I didn’t get much out of him.”

“I’m sorry, I truly am.” Emeri tied the cloth back on the bowl. “You will have the library to yourself tomorrow. I am taking Aalis and Verne to a place where Aalis can replenish her supply of medicinal herbs. Do you want me to show you the way to the library before I leave?”

“I’m not a child. I can find my own way.” Caste retorted.

Verne and Giordi left the dining table not twenty minutes after Caste had excused himself. The only person he had deemed of worthy talking to was snoring soundly on his chest, making gurgling noises as he did so, saturated through to the bone with wine. Once Lady Fereak had left, Caste was quick to leave as well. Verne and Giordi had eaten and drunk their fill before escaping.

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“If Judd’s not careful, he’ll have a hangover tomorrow from that wine.” Giordi yawned as he and Verne made their way to the foyer. Verne said nothing, feeling achy and tired. “What was the trebuchet like?”

“Very interesting and oddly simple once you know how it works.” Verne yawned. “Oh look what you’ve started!”

“I’m pretty sure you were the first to yawn in there!”

“No, Severo was.”

“Oh yeah…poor old soak…he’s so well preserved that when he’s buried, they’ll be able to dig him up in a hundred years and he’ll not look a day older.”

“How will they be able to tell? He looks well over a hundred already.”

“Giordi Gavoli?” They paused and turned, the steward approaching them. “Lady Fereak wishes to speak with you.”

“I thought she might.” Giordi said with insufferable confidence.

“Please, this way.”

Verne rolled his eyes and went to leave but felt Giordi grasp his arm. “Follow…quietly.” Giordi hissed and before Verne could ask why, he was already hastening after the steward.

Verne groaned and did as he was bid, keeping Giordi in his sights as he went up the stairs, along the landing and into a wing of the fort that had been decorated with a woman’s flair, attempting to capture the essence of nobility that she had been wrested from. Verne slipped into a nook and waited for the steward to pass him by as Giordi stood in front of a pair of doors and knocked.

“Come in.”

Verne crept forward, keeping to the wall on the door side of the passage. He noticed that Giordi had not closed the door the entire way. All Verne could hear were voices and he listened carefully.

“Lady Fereak, how may I be of service?”

“Strange that you should put it like that…”

“I shall rephrase. You wished to speak with me?”

“I have a gift for you.”

“For me, Lady Fereak? That is unwarranted but very kind of you. A book?”

“A collection of the poems of Sir Omra that became the songs to tell of his more…amorous deeds.”

“I could not possibly accept such a precious volume, Lady Fereak, after hearing that it is one of your favourite tomes.”

“Will you not at least indulge me…in reading the entirety of the poem that you were cut off from at the table? You have such a smooth…strong…passionate voice.”

Verne rolled his eyes, wondering why in Maul he was there.

“Alas, I only indulged in such a risqué reading in company. I could not do so in the chambers of a lady.”

“What if a lady wishes it?”

“Then she must ask her husband to read to her.”

Lady Fereak laughed and it smacked of a bitter tone. “My husband…he would rather play with his soldiers than his wife. He has never shown much…inclination for me…not since we were married. I loved him desperately…and yet the moment he had performed the barest of consecrations following our wedding, he all but abandoned me.”

Her voice was broken, pleading…

“I am sorry, Your Ladyship.”

“I am doomed to live out my days in a fort surrounded by subservient Mauls and uncouth and brash soldiers…married to a man who, upon seeing his naked wife in his bedchamber, insisted I cover myself up for fear of a cold…tell me, am I truly that repulsive?”

Verne heard a swish of fabric.

“Your Ladyship, whatever lack there is between yourself and your husband, it is not because of you. You are lovely.”

“Yet you cover me as he did!”

“Your loveliness is not mine to behold.”

“You are a minstrel! You are driven by passionate embrace, by intimacy and heat…will you not indulge me?”

Verne held his breath.

“Whatever else I am, I would never bed another man’s wife.”

“He’s not even my husband! Not in deed, just in word!”

“Yes…but it is your word that you must hold fast to, My Lady…”

There was a loud thump. Verne jumped back from the wall, something having hit the door.

“Get out! Get out of my chambers! If you will not heed a Lady’s desperate plea, then get out!”

Giordi appeared through the doors, shutting them behind him. He caught sight of Verne and breathed out, rolling his eyes. He motioned for silence and they hurried through the fort, back to the foyer and out of the doors.

“You took a big risk going to her when it was obvious what she wanted.” Verne accused when they were outside of the fort walls, skidding down the slope towards Suvau and Yolana’s home.

“Perhaps…but then I think the bigger risk would have to not have gone and have her rage and cast dispersions on all of us, affecting Judd’s reputation. After all, she can hardly go to Sir Fereak now and claim that I tried to seduce her.”

“She could, you know.”

“Not with you as a witness. Besides, I doubt I’m the first she tried this with.”

Verne frowned. “Are you sure? She sounded sincere…even heartbroken.”

“I have no doubt she is.” Giordi shook his head, his golden curls sagging in the rain. “Yet her primary motivation was to flirt outrageously with me at the table out of spite for her husband…the culmination of which would have been a passionate tumble in her chambers.”

Verne had to concentrate on not slipping, the slope becoming downright treacherous. It was with relief they made it to the front door. “You could have, you know.” Verne said softly as Giordi opened the door. “I doubt Sir Fereak would have cared…he might have thanked you the way he was acting.”

“True,” Giordi picked up a cloth and ruffled his curls until they sprung back to life, “but even through all my flirting and womanising…the one woman who is completely off limits is a married one.” He tossed the cloth to Verne and waved goodnight. “Even I have my integrity.”

Verne was left standing in the kitchen holding the cloth, a furrow upon her face. “That’s what surprises me…”