“Yes, yes,” Prince Toril said. He opened a window and slipped out. He climbed across the roof and down the side of the manor with surprising agility.
When he dropped to the frost-covered grass and raised a hand to wave to Lady Linnea, the young lady called, glancing around guiltily to watch for servants. “Prince Toril?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For buying the flax?”
“No, for coming,” Lady Linnea said.
Prince Toril bowed. When he straightened, Lady Linnea heard a tap on the door. She waved to the prince before hastily shutting the window and pulling the drapes to cover it.
“Come in,” she said, before preparing herself for the day.
“When Mama heard about the rumors, she called the steward, head maid, housekeeper, and chief footman and told them if she ever heard such silliness about you being spread through the house again, they should plan on seeking employment elsewhere. Of course everyone knows Malfrid is the one who started the rumors. I don’t know why Mama has retained her thus far. She is as sour as a skunk,” Lady Linnea said, her voice dripping with disgust.
Gemma finished sewing the seam that attached a piece of black wool to a liner of midnight-blue silk. “I’m happy to hear Lady Lovland defends me, even though I am no longer a Lovland employee,” Gemma said, rolling the fabrics so the new piece was no longer inside-out but outside-out.
“What?” Lady Linnea yelped, banging her elbow on the grate of the ceiling-window. “What do you mean ‘no longer a Lovland employee’?”
“Exactly what it sounds. I am not a Lovland employee. How can I be, locked up as I am?” Gemma said, her eyebrows furrowed as she shaped the fabric piece into a hood. “I hope it is deep enough. He does enjoy covering his face,” she said, placing the hood on her head to be certain the rim fell low over her face—it did.
Lady Linnea didn’t hear Gemma’s mutters as she was too busy squawking. “But! You just—who cares if you are locked up!”
“I can hardly make dresses for you in this situation, My Lady.”
Lady Linnea eyed Gemma like a curious songbird. “But you are making some sort of…thing right now. You could do the same for me!” the young lady said, puffing out her chest. She thought for a moment before adding, “Not that I expect you to. I imagine sewing for someone else is the last thing you wish to do right now. But, you can’t just…What will I do without you?” Lady Linnea protested, peeking down through the window grille
“I wouldn’t worry about it just yet, My Lady,” Gemma said, setting the hood aside to eye the pieces she had already cut for the body of the cape.
The soldiers were quicker to retrieve the material than Gemma had hoped. She had placed her “order” the previous day, and they brought it to her when they delivered her dinner tray that same evening.
“What do you mean?” Lady Linnea asked.
“No one knows what is going to happen to me,” Gemma grunted as she matched up pieces. “King Torgen might imprison me for life, or he might have me killed on a whim. My future is extremely unstable,” Gemma said, sounding unbothered by her tumultuous life as she selected a piece of wool and silk. “This lining is going to take ages to sew.”
“You will live,” Lady Linnea sternly said, shaking a finger at Gemma. “And for now, Toril and I have bought every scrap of flax in the city. King Torgen is being forced to look outside Ostfold, so we have bought you at least a week, possibly longer.”
“Oh? So it’s just Toril now, is it?” Gemma asked, lifting an eyebrow as she threaded a needle.
“You are reading too deeply,” Lady Linnea said, blushing a faint pink. “I could call him the Idiot, but that hardly seems respectful.”
“I see,” Gemma said.
“You don’t sound convinced,” Lady Linnea said.
“That would be because I am not.”
“Gemma!” Lady Linnea scoffed and made snorting noises like an angry horse.
Gemma unwound black thread from the spool and started the first few stitches of the piece before she straightened it out and jabbed some of the extra sewing needles in strategic locations to keep the piece straight.
“I’m glad you seem to be doing well,” Lady Linnea said when she was through being flustered. “I worried when you were first imprisoned. You had lost much of your spirit.”
“Imminent death often does that to a person,” Gemma said.
“I know that,” Lady Linnea rolled her eyes. “What I meant is…you are you again. The fight is back in your words. I’m glad,” Lady Linnea said.
Gemma stopped sewing long enough to peer up at Lady Linnea through the barred window and give the lady a reassuring smile. “Thank you,” she said.
Thank you for caring.
Understanding what was unsaid, Lady Linnea ruffled her cloak and shifted her seat on the chilly grate. “Of course,” she said. “You might also note I’m valiantly not asking who the cloak is for,” Lady Linnea added.
“The mage,” Gemma said.