“Father’s new wife, my friend, died of the fever shortly after I left. He married again recently, a very young woman, Marissa. I hardly know her. My daughter Sybil married and moved to Tansay, in the Sealands. She too died of the fevers, while Gardagger and I were traveling. It wasn’t until we returned home I learned she was gone. Well, the fever is the fever, after all. One cannot grieve forever. Until I heard from Lyndafal, I honestly thought she would be safe in Sealand.”
“How does she know she isn’t?” Genevieve asked in a puzzled voice. “Her message says she’sseen it. Well, you know, my dear, the way you see things. Once she told me that, I remembered my last visit to her when I noticed the way Solven spoke of his future, as though all his plans were only his plans, without her in them. I thought the doctors might have told him something ill about her, but she said no, she was well. But then, since I’ve been here, at court, I’ve talked to this one and that, countesses, duchesses, marchionesses, baronesses, even a princess or two, too many of them with stories of how their daughters married older men and then died in the milk-months, even in places where the fevers aren’t much known! Well, that made me think! Perhaps it’s something to do with older men! Something in the sperm? Or something that men are exposed to in Tribunal rituals? Something they’re well aware of, which would explain the way Solven spoke!” She wiped her eyes.
“And the women all die of the fever?”
“That’s usually the cause that’s cited. Batfly fever.”
“But I thought we used P’naki to prevent batfly fever.”
“But pregnant and nursing mothers can’t take P’naki, because it deforms the child, or it gets in their milk and makes idiots out of the babies.” She made a wild, agonized gesture.
“We should go in,” murmured Genevieve. “I see the servants peering at us, standing out here in the cold. Father will be angry, for he thinks I’m deluded and silly, and it would be better not to annoy him.”
“Pretend I’ve been advising you about the garden,” said Alicia, pulling herself erect, head high. “Talk of roses as we go in.”
They returned to the house discussing the merits of ancient shrub roses versus some of the more exotic varietals available through the greenhouses, and hearing this, the Marshal, who had been hovering by the stairs, red in the face and breathing angrily, decided to make himself scarce. A servant approached to say that Veswees was waiting. Alicia volunteered to stay during the fitting, and they continued to talk of gardens, Veswees chiming in from time to time, though with a very percipient look that said he was aware the conversation was all a mask.
“And how is your friend, the brave Colonel?” he asked around a mouthful of pins.
“Colonel Leys?” asked Genevieve, distressed to find her voice breaking on the name. She cleared her throat. “Colonel Leys is quite well, though I’ve seen little of him recently. Father seems to be keeping him very busy.”
“Ah,” the man murmured, “what a pity. Tell me, is it customary for one of the Colonel’s rank to serve as equerry?”
“It is not,” said the Duchess, looking up from the embroidery she had brought with her. “The Marshal should let the boy go. His career will stifle here in Havenor.”
At the thought of Aufors being let go, some toothed thing grabbed at Genevieve’s insides and bit her, a sudden pang that came from nowhere and went as swiftly, making her gasp.
“What?” demanded Veswees. “Did I stick you?”
“Only a little,” said Genevieve wonderingly. “It’s nothing.”
The Duchess knotted her thread. “What gossip have you, Veswees? What naughtiness is about in the provinces?”
He laughed. “Ah, well, you’ve heard that Prince Thumsort has quarreled with his lady?”
“That’s no new thing. They quarrel about once a season.”
“True. There’s a scandal in Bliggen. Or, one should say in Halfmore.”
Genevieve looked up, suddenly alert, and the Duchess cocked her head, smiling. “You know the place, Genevieve?”
“Of it,” she murmured.
“Well, it seems Viscount Willum has taken himself a wife, though he’s been long betrothed to someone else. Not only that, but she’s a commoner!”