Before we had left Neatbay, the songs were already being sung, about a Queen with her skirts bundled up standing bold against the Red-Ships, and of the child in her womb who was a warrior before birth. That the Queen would risk not only herself but the heir to the throne for Rippon Duchy was not lost upon any of them. First Duke Brawndy of Beams, and now Kelvar of Rippon, I thought to myself. Kettricken was doing well at winning the Duchies’ loyalty.
I had my moments at Neatbay, both warming and chilling. For Lady Grace, on seeing me in the Great Hall, recognized me and came to speak to me. “So,” she had said after greeting me quietly, “my kitchen dog boy has the blood of kings in him. No wonder you advised me so well, those years ago.” She had grown well into being a lady and a Duchess. Her feist dog still went everywhere with her, but now he ran about at her heels, and this change pleased me almost as much as her easy carriage of her title and her obvious affection for her duke.
“We have both changed much, Lady Grace,” I replied, and she accepted the compliment I intended. The last time I had seen her had been when I had traveled here with Verity. She had not then been so comfortable being a Duchess. I had met her in the kitchens, when her dog had been choking on a bone. I had persuaded her then that her duke’s coin was better spent on watchtowers than jewelry for her. Back then, she had been very new to being a Duchess. Now she seemed never to have been anything else.
“Not a dog boy anymore?” she asked with a wry smile.