Page 8 of Lily of the Valley

"Eat," Scout repeated, and vanished through the door by the fireplace.

Lily sighed and dutifully ate. The tea was black, with a nutty undertone she really liked, so different from the light, flowery teas she drank all day at court. The soup was good too, a barley stew with what might be venison, lots of vegetables. Nothing like the bisques and broths she was used to, but warm and hearty, no doubt perfect for the hard life that came with living in the middle of a forest.

Memories flickered again. Two… men? Had there been two men? Had she imagined them?

The soldiers… There'd been two of them, facing off against the Wolves alone, the last defense she'd had. Probably dead too. What was it the one had told her?

The ruins. She was to get to the ruins. What ruins? Lily had lived here all her life, and she'd never heard a peep about ruins in the forest.

Setting the tray aside, she slowly settled down in the bed again, sleep hitting her like a fist. Or a tree limb to the ribs, maybe. Nope, wasn't funny yet.

That faint cinnamon smell wafted up again from the pillows. Was it from Scout? How had she gotten such a strange na…

Recovery

The slamming of a door jolted her upright, heart in her throat, breath locked in her chest. They were coming. The Wolves were—

"Hey, hey, calm down."

Lily stared, uncomprehending, then managed a sharp breath, releasing it shakily. "Scout."

"Yeah, just me," Scout said, setting aside the stack of wood she'd brought in. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Lily laughed, rubbing at her temples. "I think I'd remember if I saw ghosts. No, just bad dreams, I think. It was a…" She swallowed, shoving away images of her father bleeding out, an arrow in his throat. "It was a long day."

"I'd imagine so. Spoke with some furriers heading out of the city, they say the castle has been overtaken by the royal steward, who's named himself Regent. Men in black prowl around, doing his bidding and hurting anyone who argues. Guess you weren't spinning tales after all."

"Why would I lie about something like that?" Lily asked. "Such a lie wouldn't hold up to the barest scrutiny."

Scout snorted and set the wood in the rack by the fireplace and added a couple of logs. "You'd be surprised what people will say to garner blind sympathy. Feeling any better?"

"I… I guess? My ribs hurt, but not as deeply. My feet still feel like they're on fire, but I'd be surprised if they didn't. Who knows what I hit while I was running."

"Your lucky they're not in worse shape," Scout replied. "Come on, let's get you up. Sure you'd like to stretch a bit and use the necessary. I'll get breakfast going, find you some more clothes." She snorted. "Though one of my shirts would damn near be a gown on you."

Lily laughed. "Better than whatever's left of my gown."

Snorting a soft laugh with her, Scout helped her out of bed and when it seemed she could walk on her own at least a bit, pointed her through the door by the fireplace.

Several minutes later, Lily left the washing room feeling greatly improved, braiding her damp hair and tucking it up with a few hair pins she had remaining, though as usual, her long, heavy black hair didn't want to stay where it was put.

The pile of promised clothes had been left on a stool next to a table that was clearly used for butchering and other such hard tasks. The pants were so absurdly oversized there didn't seem to be much point in wearing them. She settled for the socks, which were long and thick, almost more like stockings on her, and the shirt was indeed like a scandalously short gown, falling to mid-thigh, the wool softer than she'd expected. She used a belt to cinch it close around the waist, and rolled up the sleeves to her elbows.

They wouldn't work long term, but for the present, they were warm, dry, and kept her from being naked or walking around in scraps of ill-suited silk.

Shoulders back, chin up, eyes forward, hands calm. The mantra had been the chorus of her schoolgirl years, and even now, years later, she heard the words in her head whenever she needed to settle herself.

Ready as she'd ever be, Lily headed back out to the main room, where Scout was at the table chopping and mixing. She glanced up—and dropped the knife she was holding. "What in the gods name are you wearing?"

Lily frowned and looked down. "The clothes you left for me. Are these not the right ones?"

"The ones I left you included pants," Scout said flatly.

"They were far too big. Even rolling them and cinching them, they were in danger of slipping and tripping me. I know this is unconventional, but I'm hardly in the palace right now, and you don't seem to be the sort to be offended. Am I wrong?"

"No, I'm not offended," Scout retorted, retrieving her knife and going back to work like Lily had just insulted her personally and vindictively.

This woman was proving to be the most confounding person Lily had ever met, including the stubborn counselors who didn't think a woman was fit to be on the throne. "Is there something I can do to help?"

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