26.

Occupations

Heat on my cheeks, I turned to face the room, walking back to my place behind the empty chair.

I knew my chest was pink above the square neckline.

My eyes shot to the prince and I focused on his polite face, refusing to look at another.

“Mischa is a gifted translator and scribe.

She speaks and writes in all the continent’s dialects and languages.

Her mind would be wasted on any kind of house craft.

I am sure, sire, there is work for her to put her talent to use.”

Mischa did not speak all the languages, but she could read and write in most and I would be damned if she was given some job emptying chamber pots or scrubbing privy chambers.

Zinnia had mentioned each level of the keep had several and they emptied into cesspits along the bluffs that were washed out by high tides.

“She sounds impressive,”

said the prince, but his eyes looked at me in a pointed manner and I knew Eefa’s outburst was on his mind.

“She can work for me,”

interjected Jeremanthy, gaining a turned head from everyone.

“We need translation now more than ever.”

Perch said, “Should we allow an Ecclestonian to see our armies’ movements?”

Thalia sighed almost dramatically.

“My goddess, man, who in hell will she tell if she even does see anything worthwhile? They’re far from their city now.”

Perch sat up.

“Priestess, I mean no disrespect, truly, I do not, but this woman is troublesome and I could see her willfully misinterpreting—”

“Quiet!”

Thalia interrupted.

“Can we get this over with? It’s late.

I’m tired.

I want some wine and I want to put my feet up.

I’m sure Jeremanthy knows what he is about.”

Perch gave her deferential nod, happy to show her his piety.

Mischa walked into the room with her head held up, meeting every single of their gazes.

Sidling next to me behind the chair, she peered over the chair’s back at the prince.

Then she looked at me and sensed my distress.

Her hand grasped at mine.

“Did you tell them I can translate and scribe?”

“Yes, I did,”

I answered, a warning in my tone.

She must show the prince some kind of acknowledgment.

“His highness, the prince, has graciously offered to make use of our individual skills.”

Picking up my message, she turned to Peregrine and bobbed her curly, golden head.

“I thank you, sire.”

She wrinkled her pretty snub nose but only briefly.

I could tell her self-importance amused him.

He seemed to be the opposite of his brother, steady and composed.

“Of course, lady.”

Jeremanthy explained his need, that she would report to his offices in the keep and being seen as keep staff, would be allowed to remain in the dormitories like Catrin.

I could tell Mischa had no interest in working for the general of the Tintarian infantry, but she was no simpleton.

She was clever, our Mischa.

She knew this was the most physically undemanding position she could get.

“Thank you, general,”

she answered, that stubbornness hidden under acquiescence.

“You can begin the day after tomorrow,”

the old soldier said, nodding.

“And whom shall we position next?”

asked the crown prince to me.

“May we speak of Maureen and Helena?”

I asked, my eyes darting between he and Zinnia.

“I do not think they need to leave the dormitory.

Helena is currently indisposed.

I would not take her daughter away from her.

I believe neither needs to join us.

And, sire, may we, perhaps, find placement for both so as not to separate them?”

I noticed Thatcher sit up straighter at my words.

“The woman is unwell?”

Peregrine asked.

“She will recover shortly, sire.

The girl is like a niece to me, her mother my own sibling.

I know them well, their character and their talents.

They worked as illuminators in the scriptorium.

Both are formally trained.”

Maureen had only been trained by her mother but they need not know that.

I carried on.

“Helena’s father was the foremost portraitist of Eccleston.

She spent her childhood in the homes of the wealthy, him having received their patronage.

She apprenticed under him and has illuminated countless manuscripts.

Maureen, just like her mother, is also skilled in this, sire.”

“Lady,”

the prince said, hesitant.

“We have no scriptoriums other than those in the temples and for our armies.

And they are for practical use.

Our printing presses are few and our books are usually shipped in from your city.

And at peace with Eccleston, we are no longer.

There is no use for illuminators I am afraid.

Can they scribe?”

I could sense Mischa’s tensing beside me.

“May I propose an idea, sire?”

Peregrine covered his mouth with his hand.

“You are lady of ideas, madam.”

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, I leapt at his affability.

“Your king’s throne room once had a mural grace the walls, sire? The paint has peeled?”

There was a curious shift in the prince and the others near him.

The prince inclined his head slightly, brows drawn.

“Sire, I believe the two of them can restore that mural.”

“They’re very accomplished, sire,”

added Mischa.

“They could perhaps even treat it so that the saltwater and breezes do not erode the paint.”

“Smart,”

I murmured to Mischa without turning my head towards her.

“This is …acceptable to me,”

said Peregrine.

“They will be paid a scribe’s wage, no more and no less.

They can live in the keep, stay in the dormitories.

We will revisit their occupation once the mural is complete.”

He gave me a knowing look.

That throne room was huge.

They could be painting for four or more seasons.

“They, like the others, can start preparing for their work the day after tomorrow.

Zinnia, you are so overwhelmed with tasks already, but you’ll see to them acquiring the supplies they need?”

“Yes, sire.

I will have one of my staff escort them to the market.

There are but two women left,”

supplied Zinnia.

“Sisters, I believe.

I will fetch them.”

I gave her a grateful look.

Another request for keeping two of us together had been on my mind, but her mention of River and Quinn’s sisterhood saved me from yet a third petition for this.

Zinnia left, inclining her head towards my friend to follow and before Mischa joined her, she whispered to me, “Helena will be pleased.”

“Yes,”

I whispered.

“This is the best that can be done for them.”

There was extreme discomfort for me after Zinnia and Mischa had exited the sitting room.

I would not look at any of them, certainly not him.

Eefa’s words had demeaned me more than I wanted to admit.

I was a woman shamed and shamed in front of a room of strangers, one of whom she would be married to tomorrow afternoon.

I stared down at my tattooed left hand.

This was habit.

Soon, this would be over.

Soon, I would be back in the dormitory, perhaps I would even be fed.

Soon, I could see how Helena was, take down my braid and rub in the lavender, perhaps have a tin cup of water with lightleaf in it and try for a night’s sleep in a real, actual bed with bedding.

“And not a one with magic,”

Thalia sighed.

“I could not sense a speck of it.

I shall,”

she wagged a ringed finger at me and then at Peregrine, “be visiting the throne room to see if these artists have any sea in them.

I was hoping for something after Cian’s good luck.

What does this woman have? A penchant for flowers? Farming? Trees? Has she an affinity with horses?”

The priest smiled at me.

“I need time with the Lady Edie, Thalia.”

He had an inviting face, his eyes a light color, twinkling, his seat in his chair graceful.

He appeared to be intelligent and unhurried.

If I had to spend my days training in a magic I never knew I possessed under a strange Tintarian, it might as well be him.

I did not smile in return, but I met his with an open face.

My blush had receded with Mischa’s arrival.

River and Quinn entered behind a returning Zinnia, holding hands.

I waved them towards me.

“This is River and Quinn.

They were tutors for prospective students taking entrance exams for the universities.

Both are well read, knowledgeable.

River has extensive expertise on continental history.

Have you public schools, sire?”

“We do not,”

he answered.

“I would like it if we did, but we have no schools.”

“Sire, could we find them work in private homes? Do nobles employ tutors?”

“That is usually a position ascertained via close knowledge of nobility.”

He shifted in his seat.

“What I mean to say, Lady Edie, as welcome as you all are to Tintar, peerage Tintarians will not trust an Ecclestonian in their home as anything but a chambermaid or stable boy.”

“I understand, sire.”

Jeremanthy stepped forward from the fireplace.

“I could use one more scribe in the infantry, sire.

But just one more.”

“Please do not separate us,”

Quinn implored. “Sire,”

she tacked on, nodding at Peregrine.

“We— We have never lived apart.

As sisters.”

“Hold on,”

Thalia said, sitting upright in her seat, folding her hands in her lap.

“If they can scribe, they can come work in my antechamber.

It is likely beneath them, but …”

she trailed off.

“I am always in need of scribes.

You have no idea what the temple of Sister Sea is like.”

Again, I was unsure of at whom Thalia directed her last words.

“Yes,”

Cian said, indulgently.

“So busy, the sea.”

“You’ve no idea, Cian.

You’ve nothing but farms to worry yourself over,”

Thalia parried.

“Farms and farmers and farming.”

“And timber yards and livestock and orchards,”

added Cian.

“Yes, yes,”

Thalia dismissed him.

She turned towards River and Quinn.

“The magic in Tintar is thin on the ground.

Like a piss poor snowfall, I tell you.

And the offices of agriculture and fisheries and forges have fallen to the temples of earth, sea and fire.

Only Brother Air is allowed his mysticisms and burning incense and fasting for visions.

Air contributes little to Tintar.

If you don’t mind a lot of writing about taxing fisherman, you can come work for me.

And you can keep your lodging in the dormitories with your fellow countrywomen.

Pay is little, but you know,”

she paused and wiggled her fingers, jewels sparkling.

“Room and board and all that.

Here in the keep.”

“Brother Air blesses the infantry with light-footed spies and swift swordsmanship,”

Jeremanthy muttered.

“That he does,”

Perch added.

Thatcher rolled his eyes.

“You shouldn’t do that,”

Perch said to Thatcher.

“You have more air in you than most who do not serve in the temple.

It is a slap in the Brother’s face.”

Jeremanthy gave a snort.

Thalia waved at the men as if they were flies buzzing too loudly around her.

“What say you?”

River and Quinn looked at each other.

I could tell Quinn was unsure, but her lover piped up, saying, “We would be happy to accept, madam priestess! Thank you.

And thank you for taking both of us.”

“Marvelous,”

the archpriestess of Sister Sea said in a bored manner, but smiled.

Peregrine stood and so did the rest of those seated.

“That was easier than I thought,”

he said nodding towards Alric, who gave the same shortened bow Zinnia had towards the prince.

“I think once your sergeants choose their two brides, my brother’s capricious sentences will be met.

Gentlemen,”

he said this turning to where Perch and Thatcher now stood.

“I would advise you make your proposals before the wedding.

Hinnom will likely attend and should he ask, it would be best that you have an answer for him.”

Perch looked miserable and Thatcher, oddly, looked peaceful at the directive.

“Alric,”

the prince turned to the captain, who still stood at the fireplace.

“I believe we should all leave you to discuss things as they are with the lady.”

I gripped the back of my chair and eyed the embroidery on Cian’s robes to distract me, admiring the leaves that trimmed the thick cloth.

“Captain,”

Zinnia chimed in, ushering River and Quinn outside.

“Could you escort Lady Edie to the kitchens afterwards? She has yet to eat any dinner.”

I did not look at my betrothed, but at Quinn, who was looking pointedly at me.

I could tell, now that she and River’s fates were decided, she had concern to spare for me.

It warmed me to her, this woman with a past similar to mine.

I found myself happy that they and Catrin would be with us in the dormitory.

I gave Quinn a reassuring smile, even if I felt only trepidation.

I watched the Procurers, the general, Cian and Thalia trail behind Peregrine out the door, Cian giving me a warm look and a nod.