Page 10 of Lily of the Valley

Roses

"How hard can it be?" Lily asked, staring at the well and bucket.

Scout snorted and tossed the bucket into the well. It landed far below with a thunking splash. "All right, then, milady, fetch some water from the well."

Lily huffed and grabbed the rope—and immediately regretted everything that had led her to this point as the rough rope rubbed at her good hand and positively shredded the bandaged one. Acutely aware of Scout's heavy, judging gaze, however, she gritted her teeth and kept pulling at the surprisingly heavy bucket of water.

"Careful, now, pull too hard and you'll jostle the bucket, and it'll come up half empty, meaning you'll have to do it all over again."

"I don't think we're in any danger of me pulling anything too hard," Lily retorted, making Scout snort a laugh, which pleased her for no good reason she could find.

She didn't cheer when the bucket came into view, but only because she could feel Scout's judgment waiting quietly to strike. Three days with this woman and Lily had never felt so small and incompetent in her life.

Lily stared at the bucket, confused for a moment, before she realized she was overcomplicating the matter. Holding fast to the rope with her good hand, she reached out with the bad one to grab the bucket's handle and pull it out onto the ledge of the well. "There! I told you, not so hard!"

Scout grinned, full of absolute evil. "Great. Now do it twenty more times and we'll have enough for washing up and doing laundry."

"You are the worst," Lily muttered.

Cackling, Scout walked off. "I'm going to get some wood chopped to take into town tomorrow. Let me know when the water is ready, milady."

"I'll show you milady," Lily muttered to no one in particular as she hefted the bucket off the ledge and hauled it to dump into the nearby wash basin. Laundry first, then she could have a proper bath.

What a strange place her world had become, when her biggest priorities were such mundane chores. Normally at this time of day she would be attending a luncheon with ambassadors or giving a speech in the royal gardens or in the city pavilion.

She should be working to find the ruins the guard had mentioned, but she still couldn't do more than hobble around the house and some of the yard. Earlier that morning she'd stepped on a pebble, not even a sharp one, and had wanted to die from the agony that shot up her leg.

So water for laundry and baths it was. Lily hauled up bucket after bucket, ignoring when her wounded hand began to bleed, at least until she noticed she'd gotten blood on the rope, which couldn't be a good thing.

Dumping the latest bucket of water into the tub, which was now three fourths full, thankfully meaning her job was done for now, Lily went into the cabin to rebandage her hand. Not that she knew how to do that, either, but she was really sick of having to ask for help for every last little thing. How hard could it possibly be to wrap strips of cloth? She'd done it all by herself with her feet, hadn't she?

Pointedly ignoring the condition of her feet and how the bandages had kept coming loose, she fetched the supplies from the cabinet where she'd seen Scout store them, and then filled the washing bowl with water from the matching chipped pitcher. She cleaned her hands thoroughly, especially the bad one, then applied the ointment that Scout always did. It stung at first, but then was refreshingly cool, with a pleasant herby smell that reminded her of her nursemaid.

Unfortunately, all of that was the easy part, and she made an absolute mess of the hard part.

The door opened, and Lily wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. Couldn't she do one thing, without Scout coming in to find her making a complete hash of it? Must she always look like a complete twit?

"You could have asked for help," Scout said when she saw what Lily was doing. Trying to do, anyway.

Lily huffed as Scout took over, discarding the ruined bandages and deftly wrapping fresh ones around her fingers and hand like it was the easiest thing in the world. "So you can imply I'm stupid and useless again? No, thanks. The tub is filled."

Scout frowned, gently running her thumb over Lily's palm before letting her hand go. "I don't think you're stupid and useless."

"Yes, you do." Lily withdrew, smoothing out her borrowed apron, too big on her—like everything else—and tucked back strands of damp, sweaty hair. "If you lead me to the soap, I'm sure I can manage to scrub dirt out of clothes—"

"Not with that hand, you won't, unless you want blood everywhere and your wounds to worsen. You want to keep helping, go stack up all the wood I just chopped. Half with the rest next to the house, the remaining in the cart."

"Fine," Lily said, not quite stomping off to do as told, because as per usual there was nothing she could argue with. Everything Scout said was perfectly reasonable. She'd make a great Captain of th—

Lily let out a pained noise, wrapping her arms around herself, tears escaping before she could stop them. Josiah. Alice. Clarissa. Penelope. What had happened to poor Leigh, sick in bed while everything fell apart?

"What's wrong?"

Lily spun around, swearing at herself even as she did. "What? Nothing. I'm fine."

"You're crying," Scout said dryly, folding her arms over her chest. "Try again."

"What do you care?" Lily asked. "You think I'm stupid and helpless. You call me 'milady' like you're not allowed to use my name. I've been here three days and you're probably hoping I won't be here for three more. I'm fine." She strode off to the wood pile.

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