“I don’t know.” Then: “How do you always know so much?” I asked peevishly as he pushed me down into his old chair. He took my usual perch on the hearthstones. Even in my fuddled state, I noticed how fluidly he moved, as if he had somewhere abandoned the cramps and aches of an old man’s body. There was windburned color to his face and arms as well, the tan fading the pocks’ stigma. I had once noticed his resemblance to Shrewd. Now I saw Verity in his face as well.
“I have my little ways of finding things out.” He grinned at me wolfishly. “How much do you remember of Winterfest tonight?”
I winced as I considered it. “Enough to know that tomorrow is going to be a difficult day.” The little servant girl suddenly popped up in my memory. Leaning on my shoulder, her hand on my thigh. Molly. I had to get to Molly tonight and somehow explain things to her. If she came to my room tonight, and I wasn’t there to answer her knock … I started up in my chair, but then another shiver ran up over me. It felt almost like a skin being peeled off me.
“Here. Eat something. Puking your guts out wasn’t the best thing for you, but I’m sure Patience meant well. And under other circumstances, it could have been a lifesaver. No, you idiot, wash your hands first. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said?”
I noticed then the vinegar water set out beside the food. I washed my hands carefully to remove every trace of whatever had clung to them, and then my face, amazed at how much more alert I suddenly felt. “It’s been like an extended dream, all day … is this what Shrewd has been feeling?”