10 – Aftermath by Asprin, Robert

“There’s herbs left from Masha zil-Ineel-from Herself’s congestion- that could be brewed up?”

“I’m fine, Suyan,” Illyra said at last. “I slept fine. The baby didn’t bother me. You didn’t bother me. And I don’t need any herbs- just . . .” She inhaled a pause and wondered what she did need. “I’m going uptown today. What I need is a change of scenery.”

Suyan nodded. She did not know her mistress well enough to sense how little Illyra needed change of any kind-and would not have done any different if she had.

Shunning her pots of kohl, Illyra brushed her hair into a thick chignon and wrapped a concealing, drab-colored shawl around her shoulders. She would never be mistaken for a woman who followed any of Sanctuary’s fast-changing fashions but neither would she be taken for a S’danzo.

“You’ll be wanting breakfast?” Suyan asked from the comer, the lilt making her maternal and chastising.

“No, no breakfast,” Illyra replied, meeting the other woman’s eyes for the first time, and watching them grow fragile with self-doubt. “I’ve got a craving for the little tarts Haakon sells; I’ll get some on my way.”

Those huge eyes grew bright and knowledgeable. “Aye, cravings …”

Illyra found her fist clenching into a warding sign. Suyan had her own need for security, and security for a wet nurse was her mistress’s preg- nancy. Not a day went by that somehow, buried in the lilting questions, the subject of Illyra’s barrenness was not raised. As Illyra forced herself to relax, the unfaimess of it all swept over her and she knew if she remained one more moment she would dissolve into tears that would only make her world worse.