When I knocked again at King Shrewd’s door, Wallace answered if with his usual grim displeasure. He took the scroll from me as if it were dirtied with something, and shut the door firmly in my face. As I went back up to my room I thought of what three poisons I would use on him, were I given the opportunity. It was less complicated than thinking of my king.
Back in my room, I flung myself down on my bed. I wished it were night and safe to go to Molly. Then I thought of my secrets, and even that pleasant anticipation vanished. I bounced up from my bed to fling open the window shutters wide to the storm. But even the weather cheated me.
Blue had cracked the overcast wide, to admit a watery sunlight. A bank of black clouds boiling and mountaining over the sea promised that this respite would not last long. But for now the wind and the rain had ceased. There was even a hint of warmth in the air.
Nighteyes came to my mind immediately.
It’s too wet to hunt. Water clings to every blade of grass. Besides, it’s full daylight. Only men are stupid enough to hunt in full daylight.
Lazy hound, I rebuked him. I knew he was curled, nose to tail, in his den. I sensed the warm satiation of his full belly.
Perhaps tonight, he suggested, and drifted back to sleep.
I pulled back from him, then snatched up my cloak. My feelings were not conducive to a day within walls. I left the Keep and headed down toward Buckkeep Town. Anger at Shrewd’s decision for me warred with dismay at how he had weakened. I walked briskly, trying to escape the King’s trembling hands, his drugged sleep. Damn Wallace! He had stolen my king from me. My king had stolen my life from me. I refused to think anymore.