Page 146 of Stardust Child

It was a bizarre and distasteful thought, to use his feelings for Ophele this way, and know that it would work. Why should anyone care about the state of his marriage or whether he loved his wife? But he and Juste had strategized this sort of thing before, and Remin knew from hard experience that the stories people told themselves mattered. At least this was a kinder story than most of the ones they told of him. Being renowned as a lover was better than being a butcher. Marginally.

And the Emperor wouldhateit.

“Very well,” he said reluctantly. It was also a better story than the one about how the Exile Princess had been abused by her guardians; he would not broadcast her pain for any price. “But we will find a way to claim injury from House Hurrell,” he added, his voice hardening. “Is there a provision in the Temple for discretion on such matters? And what is this business about House Hurrell leaving Aldeburke?”

“Miche says they were gone when he arrived. Darri is investigating,” Juste replied. “I will see what the Temple Writ has to say about such complaints. Enough time has passed that a little more will make no difference, and I will see that the Temple hears our minstrels, too. Perhaps their music will work a little magic upon the clerisy.”

“Miche would like that,” Remin said wryly. If only he had known sooner, he would have sent Miche to clean house at Aldeburke. And not for the first time, he wished Miche were here now. Juste was a good friend, but even his consolation was strategic.

“He should be back soon,” Juste noted, following Remin’s thoughts. “It’s convenient that he’s bringing a library. With your permission, my lord, I would like to take charge of the duchess’ education. We cannot afford to lose a single day.”

“I was going to ask you anyway,” Remin agreed, brightening. The rest of the walk was much more pleasant, discussing the many things she would need to learn, and a number of agreeable surprises.

When he went back to the house, Ophele was still where he had left her, curled up around a pillow in the center of the bed and so deeply asleep, she didn’t even twitch when he sat down beside her. Juste had warned him that she had not appeared to be sleeping well, while he was away.

At least he knew why.

Gently, Remin brushed her hair back from her face, noting the faint white line of a scar by her eyebrow and wondering how it had come to be there. Anger was easy. Of course he was angry; angry that anyone would dare to hurt her, angry with himself that he hadn’t guessed it, and furious that such things could be allowed to happen on principle. But he wasn’t Juste, to eternally be askingwhy.Anger was a burning brand: useful as a goad, but the longer one held onto it, the harder it was to let it go.

Looking at her, he felt his anger fade. So often he had likened her to a garden, the rich and lovely soil of his planting, his place of perfect peace. He had wanted to protect her, to build high walls around her so she would never know any of the terrible things in the world. But it had been too late for that before he ever met her. Maybe what she needed instead was for him to make a safe place for her and help her grow, as he did everything else in his valley.

He found that he liked the idea.

They would both grow, in the years to come. There was no such thing as a finished person. Remin knew he had changed because of her, and they would continue to tend each other and grow together all their lives. He thought maybe that was what it meant, to be married.

And that was just about the finest thing he could imagine.

“Wife,” he said, brushing her cheek with his fingers. “It’s time to wake up.”

He would have been content to let her sleep all day; at some points yesterday, she had been crying so hard it alarmed him. But he knew she had things she wanted to do.

“…time izzit?” she mumbled.

“Nearly nine,” he said, pulling her upright and holding her there, inexpressibly relieved to feel her burrow into him. “Breakfast is on the table.”

Given a few days, the resourceful Lady Verr had produced a plain morning robe for Ophele, a slightly too-large blue cashmere with fur slippers for her feet. Remin poured the first cup of tea himself. Until the clouds cleared from her eyes, Ophele was a danger to herself and others.

“I talked to Juste,” he said, opening the small breakfast hamper and doling out the contents. “He had a few ideas for where we might begin with your lessons over the winter, and there are things we need to do to protect your rights as a daughter of the House of Agnephus.”

“Did you tell him everything?” Her eyes did not lift from her plate.

“Yes. Because it’s Juste.” They had agreed on this last night, but Remin knew just how she felt, that another person knew her deepest shame. There was a reason he did not like others to speak of Merrienne, who he had killed with his own hands, or of Ellingen. “He handles such subtle work, and I promise you, he does not gossip. But I don’t knowwhat you want to say when we ask Adelan to help you learn the house, or Tounot about music, or Edemir about the Court of Nobility. And I suppose Lady Verr must teach you etiquette. I expect she has mastered the language of fans.”

That last was very grudging. The thought of trusting a Rose of Segoile with so much made him bristle.

“I don’t want to lie,” Ophele said resolutely. “I will say that I was never taught. They all know I grew up in exile.”

“As you wish. I invited Juste up for supper tomorrow, so we can discuss what you need to learn, and what you want to learn. Edemir will be sorry to lose you,” Remin added, nudging her foot with his own. He wanted a smile from her. “I told him that my wife is not an abacus.”

“I want to help, if there’s time,” she said, all solemn eyes. “I need to know how to manage accounts for the house, when we have them, don’t I? And Sir Edemir said we’re paying the builders triple to hurry up with the library.”

“I want it done before winter.”

“But that’s so much money!” she protested. “Triple pay for the carpenters, and the masons, and do you know how much they’re charging for the gables? It’s the same as what we paid for that bull, and Sir Justenin said that bull has a nobler lineage than some Houses.”

She had never scolded him before. To his surprise, he was enjoying it.

“Did you memorize Edemir’s price lists?” he inquired respectfully.

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