2.9

The next morning, Jewel just wanted to lie in her bed and not move, or maybe take another hot bath if it was available. She was still so incredibly, utterly sore.

Breathing was a labor that had not gotten easier even after a long hot soak in her bath.

Sleeping had been a chore, and she was paying for the constant cries of her many aches and pains drawing her away from restful slumber.

Yesterday's celebration for Alexander had mostly been canceled. Not that the food had not been eaten. Even Jewel had managed the laborious chewing and swallowing to get herself a proper meal before bed.

The rest had been eaten by the footmen, guests and Father.

But there had been absolutely no ceremony to it, everyone except the wizards was exhausted, the footmen, Muriel and Father were soaked and cold.

It had been a very muted affair mostly consisting of people sitting in front of blazing hearths and mechanically chewing through the food. Some quiet joviality but mostly just shivering and trying to get warm.

After they arrived, there had been much to do to get the boar situated in the larder for the butchers today.

And then all the gear and armor had to be dried, then oiled lest it rust, and stowed away. The horses had to be cared for. That task had fallen to the Stable staff and those footmen that had brought horses from the village. Given the late hour of their return many had gotten even less sleep than Jewel.

All around last night had been exhausting for everyone involved.

Jewel heard the noise continue into the night for long hours past normal. She was unable to sleep at all but for fitful naps before a twinge or her own aching chest woke her no matter how she lay.

Not even soaking in the bath had been entirely without ache and pain despite how wonderfully the water buoyed her.

Jewel was exhausted and she knew she was not alone in that, but Father would be up for his duties and she needed to be as well.

He had declared a festival feast would be held for the entire demesne and all the villages of the barony.

To celebrate the Knighting of Kraok and the slaying of the beast, now named and whispered in newly sprouting legend.

That would keep everyone busy for days at least while things were scheduled, prepared and word sent out across the barony.

All to celebrate the ending of a monster.

Terror-Boar.

She could not fault the choice in name.

If Jewel had not listened to how Knightly stories of adventure accumulated embellishments like burs in a sheep’s wool she might be surprised the way the tale already was growing beyond reason.

It seemed likely that by the time they had eaten the thing to the bone, the story would say it had been taller than the highest tower of the fort and slew a hundred men before a gallant hero and some stupid aggrandizing version of herself took it down with nary a scratch.

Which okay that was technically true for Jewel, but that was because her own skin was armored scale that little could pierce at this point.

Uncuttable did not in fact mean invulnerable.

She was so tired and everything hurt.

But a festival meant there was work to be done, preparations to make and scheduling to set. She supposed the local villagers would appreciate it, they had already gotten a less ostentatious relief day just after the Wizard’s arrival.

But the ones closer to the borders? She wondered if they would enjoy the bother of needing to send sufficient representation to not give insult.

The hay harvests were still at least another ten days in coming, if the weather had not delayed that. So it’s not like the peasants had anything terribly important to do, but traveling for anyone without flight eats into time like nothing else.

She hoped the gift of salted boar meat or whatever they were going to do with the carcass would make up for the inconvenience. It’s not like they had enough mouths to eat all of it fresh among the demesne.

But everyone was busy with the preparations for the Festival on top of normal obligations. And here Jewel was laying like a lump in bed!

There was no delaying it - Jewel had to be up and about, for appearances if nothing else.

It helped that she could smell the wonderful scent of the butchers and cook-smoke and the delectable salting of slabs of bacon being prepared for the ceremonial gifts to go along with the pieces that would more immediately be roasted for those already present.

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The smell helped buoy her towards the feast hall and the far less savory breakfast of porridge.

Moving through the halls was arduous: without the power of a thunderstorm she could not afford to lug herself around on Wyrmfire alone. Which meant that although Jewel did not have to do unassisted walking (if she did she would just lay in bed and wait to die or heal, whichever came first) but it was still an endless strain on her still sore muscles.

And it did not help when she finally reached the table.

Jewel gave one look at her ‘seat’ and silently and with no acknowledgement of guest, family or staff pushed the offending furniture to the wall of the room and slumped her coils thankfully on the comfortable stones and their soft encouraging memories.

No one said anything about how she was not being a proper lady and she was hurting too much to be shamed by her behavior.

Breakfast was exhausting and mostly silent for actual conversation. Oh, there was plenty of speaking but it was all Mother and Father consulting with the household staff on the preparations of what Jewel had already heard being called the Summer Boar festival.

She wondered if it would turn into a proper celebration every year? The thoughts helped her delay trying to grapple with breakfast.

It was hard to muster the will to eat her porridge properly, and after the third shaky scoop of porridge and the prospect of trying to finish her usual portion that way, Jewel dropped her spoon and succumbed to expedience and her lesser nature. She grabbed her bowl, stiffly opened her mouth and started gulping breakfast down as swiftly as possible.

It still hurt to swallow but at least it was over fast.

She finished it in a single sitting, swallowing it down more like a tankard than a meal.

Finishing with a heavy clatter of her bowl. It was not even fully licked clean like she usually did. But even her tongue was sore and Jewel could barely find it in herself to bother licking the scraps of porridge from her face where they had settled around her lips and nose.

Damnation and gods above and out she was worse than Alexander today.

But no one admonished her like she expected and had braced for.

Her brother did not mock her. He’d avoided even looking at her, gloomy in mood. Flinching from her gaze.

That hurt.

Mother had nothing to say and Father only commented softly.

“Glad to see you with an appetite, Daughter.”

She only nodded and waited for Muriel to arrive for whatever lessons or activity they would be expected to do today, probably something related to the festival.

But everyone’s meal was finished with no sign of the Governess.

The two Wizards who actually woke up in the morning took their leave and as usual the guest Knight had taken his morning meal with the footmen at dawn.

Finally looking around Jewel drug the words from her throat, feeling a buzzing creak from the ache that she had thought banished since she was seven.

“Where is Miss Muriel? For our Lessons?”

Alexander flinched a bit inwards.

Mother smiled with a brittleness to her eyes.

“Your Father and I thought it best if you and Alexander have some time to restore yourselves from your ordeal, And for you to recuperate especially dear Daughter. Even the greatest warrior must convalesce after such a battle.”

Father nodded and then added his own thoughts.

“Furthermore Miss Muriel is in need of some rest herself to fortify her spirit and requested time for a reprieve from her duties.”

Jewel blinked at that and hummed a bit.

She didn't like that at all, but then again she had not been looking forward to any possible physical lessons.

But to have nothing at all to do while others were so busy?

That almost hurt more than everything else in her body.

Then again without Muriel she could help Alexander as much as she wanted.

Yes, there was something she could do that involved nothing but lounging comfortably against friendly stones and time with those she most wanted to spend it with in all the world.

Putting thought to words Jewel called out to her brother.

“Well that hardly seems proper to a lady of my station... But if you insist, Alexander! Would you like to join me in Father’s Study? I believe we were only part way through the third volume of Historica naturalis Cantora!”

Jewel had actually finished that one but she knew Alexander had not, and honestly she wanted to do nothing more than read to her brother in that way that kept his attention and made the dry events written by the author shine in his eyes and spark his imagination.

The shocked look of surprise, wariness and then tearful relief that crossed her brother’s face almost made the aches in her chest seem to vanish.

But they returned with a vengeance when he seized her in the tightest hug his small frame could manage.

That hurt so much it hilariously made her laugh.

Which just hurt more and made her and the rest of her family laugh even harder in pained relief.