I found Patience sitting up in a cushioned chair, an extravagantly embroidered robe on over her nightclothes. Her hair was down about her shoulders, and as I seated myself where she indicated, Lacey resumed the brushing of it.
“I have been waiting for you to come to apologize to me,” Patience observed.
I immediately opened my mouth to do so, but she irritably waved me to silence.
“But, in discussing it with Lacey tonight, I found I had already forgiven you. Boys, I decided, simply have a given amount of rudeness they must express. I decided you meant nothing by it, hence you do not need to apologize.”
“But I am sorry,” I protested. “I just couldn’t decide how to say—”
“It’s too late to apologize now, I’ve forgiven you,” she said briskly. “Besides, there isn’t time. I’m sure you should be asleep by now. But as this is your first real venture into court life, I wanted to give you something before you left.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it again. If she wanted to consider this my first real venture into court life, I wouldn’t argue it with her.
“Sit here,” she said imperiously, and pointed to a spot by her feet.
I went and sat obediently. For the first time I noticed a small box in her lap. It was of dark wood, and a stag was carved into the lid in bas-relief. As she opened it I caught a whiff of the aromatic wood. She took out an ear stud and held it up to my ear. “Too small,” she muttered. “What is the sense of wearing jewelry if no one else can see it?” She held up and discarded several others, with similar comments. Finally she held up one that was like a silver bit of net with a blue stone caught in it. She made a face over it, then nodded reluctantly. “That man has taste. Whatever else he lacks, he has taste.” She held it up to my ear again, and with absolutely no warning, thrust the pin of it through my earlobe.
I yelped and clapped a hand over my ear, but she slapped it away. “Don’t be such a baby. It only stings for a minute.” There was a sort of clasp that held it behind, and she ruthlessly bent my ear in her fingers to fasten it. “There. That quite suits him, don’t you think, Lacey?”
“Quite,” Lacey agreed over her eternal tatting.
Patience dismissed me with a gesture. As I rose to go she said, “Remember this, Fitz. Whether you can Skill or not, whether you wear his name or not, you are Chivalry’s son. See that you behave with honor. Now go and get some sleep.”
“With this ear?” I asked, showing her blood on my fingertips.
“I hadn’t thought. I’m sorry—” she began, but I interrupted her.
“Too late to apologize. I’ve already forgiven you. And thank you.” Lacey was still giggling as I left.
I arose early the next morning to take my place in the wedding cavalcade. Rich gifts must be taken as a token of the new bond between the families. There were gifts for the Princess Kettricken herself, a fine blooded mare, jewelry, fabric for garments, servants, and rare perfumes. And there were the gifts to her family and people. Horses and hawks and worked gold for her father and brother, of course, but the more important gifts were the ones offered to her kingdom, for in keeping with the Jhaampe traditions, she was of her people more than she was of her family. And so there was breeding stock, cattle, sheep, horses and fowl, and powerful yew bows such as the mountain folk did not have, and metalworking tools of good Forge iron, and other gifts judged likely to improve the lot of the mountain folk. And there was knowledge, in the form of several of Fedwren’s best-illustrated herbals, and several tablets of cures, and a scroll on hawking that was a careful copy of one created by Hawker himself. These last, ostensibly, were my purpose in accompanying the caravan.
They were given into my keeping, along with a generous supply of the herbs and roots mentioned in the herbal, and with seed for growing those that did not keep well. This was not a trivial gift, and I took my responsibility for seeing it well delivered as seriously as I took my other mission. All was well wrapped and then placed within a carved cedar chest. I was checking their wrappings a final time before taking the chest down to the courtyard when I heard the Fool behind me.
“I brought you this.”
I turned to find him standing just inside the door of my room. I hadn’t even heard the door open. He was proffering a leather drawstring bag. “What is it?” I asked, and tried not to let him hear either the flowers or the doll in my voice.
“Seapurge.”
I raised my eyebrows. “A cathartic? As a marriage gift? I suppose some would find it appropriate, but the herbs I am taking can be planted and grown in the mountains. I do not think—”