Daughter of Ice and Fire

Thirty-Five

Lihleih felt sick. Not only because of what Averit told her but because of how naïve she had been. Her vow to kill the King might have given her some satisfaction, possibly even a small measure of happiness. But not for long. She had never considered everything that went along with killing him. Not the upheaval it would cause. Not the people affected. And certainly not what would happen to the serfs, servants, and all the rest of those living their daily lives in Crusseria without concerning themselves with affairs of state. Killing King Vesterfahl might achieve a lull in the cruelty perpetuated on the citizens. But if what Averit said were true, it would only be temporary, especially if the King died before Averit had a child. She kicked herself for not taking more notice of the court's politics, especially while working for Imril. Maybe if she had, she would have figured things out sooner and abandoned her vow, going away where nobody could find her. Maybe then, she wouldn't have met Averit. And begun to care.

"Do you mind if I call it a night?" she asked, rising. "We can continue this in the morning as I'm feeling a little ill. Possibly too much wine. Or oranges." She gave a weak smile as she waited for his answer.

"Of course. Please accept my apologies. You've had a rough time these last several months. Whatever else we need to talk about can wait another day or two. Sleep well, Lihleih."

Nodding, she headed first to the small privy behind the kitchen. Averit might call his home antiquated, but it still had an indoor latrine with a toilet that used an ingenious system to flush away the waste. And it had a tub, one she fully intended on using tomorrow.

Passing back through the kitchen and front room, she was a little surprised to see Averit gone. But then she noticed the bar was off the door and concluded he had stepped outside to give her some privacy. Yawning hugely, she entered the bedroom and, with a silent apology, stripped out of her gown and jewelry and pulled a shirt out of the large wardrobe. Slipping into bed, she curled on her side and tried not to think about what an absolute mess her life had become.

"How did she take it?"

"So far, she seems okay. She seemed a little upset when I told her I was the one that had her sent to Harrowvale." Averit chuckled ruefully and kicked a rock.

"You told her that? And she didn't kill you?" Gauthier gaped at Averit in disbelief.

"She tried. Never seen a girl move so fast. But she calmed down when I explained why. She's still not happy but I think she sees there wasn't any other choice."

"What about the rest?"

Averit stopped his pacing and picked up another rock. Pitching across the field, he stared at the moon, wondering how much he should say. Sighing, he turned and faced his friend. "I told her most of it."

"Most? What didn't you tell her?" Gauthier pushed himself away from the post he had been leaning against, joining Averit.

"I never told her who I think my father's little weasel is. Nor did I tell her what I wanted."

Gauthier stared. "Dammit man, why not? What are you waiting for? Your father is going to be here in less than a week and she needs to be ready. You need to be ready."

"We never got there. I told her what I believed about the real reasons for my father forcing Lady Ancrete and Lord Ethrial's contract to be broken. She figured out the last threat on her own. I told you she was perceptive." Averit smiled ruefully and threw another rock.

"You need to tell her, Averit. As soon as possible. If your father shows up and she's not ready, you'll never have another chance. If that happens, you just might have more serious problems on your hands than having to marry Ancrete."