Page 34 of Stardust Child

“Do you think you ought to distract the duchess’s guards from their work?” he asked them, with a chill in his polite voice. “If you are hoping to be knights, you must think of Her Grace’s safety before your own satisfaction.”

This squelched them quite effectively, though Ophele felt very self-conscious with her guards in earshot; she was confident in her teaching of Jacot, but there was so very much she didn’t know that even ten year-old pages had already learned. She was just settling into the lesson when a small figure appeared in the open doors of the cookhouse, draggled as a drowned rat.

“Elodie?” she said, bewildered, and hurried to usher the girl over to the fire. “You’re soaked! Does your mother know you’re here?”

“Mama’s at auntie’s house, my lady.” Elodie dropped a curtsy and the beginnings of a puddle onto the floor. “I’msupposed to serve you, aren’t I?”

She gave the assembled boys a bristling glance.

“They’re having their lessons,” Ophele explained, wondering why she was defending herself to a nine year-old. “You shouldn’t have come out in the rain, I’m sure your mother will worry, and what if you get sick? Oh, bother.”

She bit her lip, thinking. The easiest answer would be to ask one of her guards to take the girl home, but she didn’t need Sir Leonin to tell her that was wrong; they were guards, not errand runners.

“I’ll take her, m’lady,” said Jacot, who had only just begun to dry out. “By the north gate, right?”

“Yes, thank you, Jacot,” she said gratefully. “You can take my parasol so at least you won’t get soaked again. Elodie—”

Elodie’s lowering eyebrows were like rainclouds on the horizon.

“You don’t want me to wait on you, my lady?” she asked, glancing mournfully at the despised boys.

“Not today.” Barring the page boys, Ophele hadn’t had much to do with children since she was one, and wasn’t quite sure what to do. “I’ll come and talk to you and your mama about it soon. But if you want to be my pagegirl, you must mind what I say and wait.”

This was sufficient for peace, and Jacot set off wearing a thunderous expression that promised a lengthy lecture for Elodie. Ophele had witnessed several forceful corrections to the younger boys and recognized the warning signs.

Sliding back into her chair at the table, Ophele found herself confronted with five pairs of censorious eyes.

“You wantherto be your page, my lady?” Little Valentin asked, wielding his large, sad brown eyes like a dagger to her heart.

“Well, I do,” she began, casting about for some consolation. “I need someone to help me while you’re all busy learning to be knights, don’t I?”

“I guess,” said Legeriot, into a mutinous silence.

“And then one day I’ll watch you fight like Sir Leonin and Mr. Gosse did yesterday,” she added encouragingly. “You’ll have to work hard if you want to be as good as they are.”

The boys exchanged glances.

“Does that mean we’ll have to fight His Grace, too?” asked Gavrel uneasily, and their collective dismay at the prospect made Ophele bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“Why don’t you work up to that,” she suggested, and set them back to their lessons.

* * *

Thoughts of lambs and wolves kept Remin up late that night.

When all was said and done, he was a practical man. Though some took their oaths of marriage lightly, he was not among them. His marriage to Ophele was an irrevocable fact, an oath he would keep beyond death. It could not be undone. The fact that he had come to love her was a blessing and a curse; that she loved him back was nothing less than a miracle. He wouldn’t undo it even if he could.

But it was also a fact that he had forced Ophele to marry him. And then nearly repeated the error with her hallows, without ever realizing what he had done.

Political marriages were far more common than love matches, but Remin knew his own had been highly irregular. Usually, they would have had ample time to get to know each other, often from childhood. They would at least have had a chance to correspond. It was true that Remin had extracted a promise from the Emperor that made the endless negotiations of a political marriage unnecessary, but the Emperor had hidden Ophele until the last possible moment, then offered her up without the slightest interest in what became of her. The Hurrells had only been interested in manipulating her. Andthreateningher, Remin recalled, with a flash of anger. He hadn’t forgotten that Lady Hurrell had tried to make Ophele frightened of him.

Yes, Ophele had been a lamb, of the sacrificial variety. No one had tried to protect her, including her new husband. Remin was honest enough to admit that when he married her, protecting her had not even entered his mind, except in the strictest accordance with his marital oaths. He had been every bit the wolf when he snapped her up.

“You’re still awake?” Ophele murmured sleepily, as if she could feel the churning of his thoughts. It was well after midnight.

“Just thinking,” he said, low, and pressed his lips to her forehead. It felt so natural now to sleep with her soft warmth in his arms, he couldn’t imagine sleeping any other way.

“…talk about it?” Her eyes were still very much closed.

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