Page 6 of Stardust Child

“The wolf demons.” Sousten’s eyes lit up.

“Lion dogs kill people, too. I want a wolf demon,” Remin said at once. Suddenly he cared intensely about what animal was guarding his house. “That’s my guardian dog. Sousten, I will have nothing else.”

“No, by the stars, what else could guard the Duke of Andelin?” the architect exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Let us make them yourtotem, Your Grace, chain the beasts and leash them to your door. It is perfect. I will need descriptions of the devils, or even better, sketches, if you have witnesses that could produce something…”

“It wouldn’t be blasphemous or anything?” Ophele asked, looking between them with growing enthusiasm. “Theyaredevils…”

“They areourdevils,” Remin said, giving her a rough caress in his excitement. Terrible as the devils were, they were only animals, and he did not fear them. One day, they would be nothing more than one of the legends of the Andelin Valley. The totem of his House.

He might have known his little owl would think of it. And blast it, he was smiling again, in full view of Sousten and his guards and the entire building crew, and when she smiled at him, he felt the warmth as if she were his own sun.

He felt like an ass, trying to settle his face after that.

Was this a weakness? Was it safe to show affection for her so openly? No one would dare to physically harm a child of divine blood, but surely it would be more dangerous if it were known that he loved her. They might fear to harm her, but kidnapping was certainly not out of the question. And that aside, he was the Duke of Andelin. He was supposed to be dignified.

It was almost as if he were discovering different versions of himself, a new person that evenhedidn’t know. It was fine, when he was alone with Ophele; it was such a relief to finally justbewith her, without holding himself back. But he had lived most of his life around soldiers and knights, and now he was trying to be a husband and—increasingly—a lord, and finding the clothes an awkward fit.

He had a little more experience with being a lord. He knew he couldn’t be a general and snap commands at the village headmen. He didn’t want to rule that way. And when Auber’s clan finally arrived in the waning days of summer, he had to strike an even more delicate balance. They were the purest kind of peasant: farmers, the salt of the earth, and very clearly Auber’s family, down to the mild brown eyes and hair.

And by the stars, he was hoping they’d brought women.

He let them get settled in the cottages on the north side of town before he pounced. Normally, the arrival of a bunch of farmers would be far beneath the notice of a duke and duchess. But though Ophele nevercomplained, Remin imagined she was dying to have other women about, and he was almost willing to fall to his knees if they would just consent to do her laundry. He had ruined three of Ophele’s chemises so far and neither of them had any idea how.

“Welcome, all of you,” he said as he and Ophele stood before the assembled Conbour family that evening. The wagons in which they had arrived were already empty, and smoke rose from the chimneys of their cottages. “You’ve come a long way and uprooted your lives. I can see that you’re industrious folk. The Andelin rewards courage and hard work. We have done our best, but I don’t mind telling you we’ll be glad of your help with the harvest.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” they murmured together, with a shuffling of bows and curtsies.

“This is my wife, the Duchess of Andelin,” he continued, drawing Ophele forward. He had to catch her hand before her fingers pressed together in her usual nervous gesture. She was still painfully shy before strangers.

“We’re very glad you’ve come,” she began, her eyes flicking to them and then swiftly fleeting away. “Sir Auber has been looking forward to your arrival. There aren’t any other women in the valley except us right now, I’m afraid. If you lack anything, please come to me. Or if anything troubles you.”

“Thank you, my lady,” they murmured again. Actually, they weren’t the only women in the valley; there was also two dozen prostitutes Remin was pretending not to know about, split between the masons’ camp and the Gellege Bridge gatehouse. But they were not fit company for the Duchess of Andelin, and Remin had no dealings with them other than to make sure she never laid eyes on them.

He had hoped there might be someone her age among Auber’s relations: a companion, even if there was no one fit to be a lady’s maid. But scanning the crowd, he only saw two women, closer to forty than thirty, and a little girl.

“For now, you can get your food from Wen at the cookhouse. You’re welcome to join the common meals or get foodstuffs to cook for yourselves, whichever you prefer,” he said, a little stiffly. “In time, more merchants will join us, and you can buy whatever you like. At the moment we have one, Istaire Guian.”

That was Ophele’s cue.

“I can show the ladies the rest of the town tomorrow. If you like.” Her cheeks were pink even before she began to speak, the color darkening along her hairline and spreading to the tips of her ears. “Mr. Guian p-promised to open his shop early. In c-case you need anything.”

The two women exchanged glances and then bowed very low.

“That is very kind, Your Grace,” said the shorter woman. They could hardly say anything else. Inwardly, Remin sighed and bid them all farewell as politely as he could. It would have been one thing, if they had been younger women. A pair of sturdy farmers’ wives were perfectly capable of finding everything they needed by themselves and would be unlikely to seek the company of a young noblewoman, let alone a Daughter of the Stars, sacred child of the Emperor of Argence.

“It’s all right,” he told her as they walked home together. “Others will come, wife.”

“I know.” She tried to smile, but he knew she was embarrassed. And though he was uncomfortably aware of the eyes that might be watching, he still closed her hand in his, squeezing gently. He didn’t know what to say.

He hadn’t considered this when he brought her here. There was no one anywherenearher rank. Even when his knights began to marry, Ophele would always be the Emperor’s bastard, recognized by her father and isolated by her illegitimacy. Even if he could persuade some of the higher nobility to make the long journey to the valley, she would never have peers.

But did that matter? Was there something immoral about Ophele socializing with farmers’ wives?

How didsocietyget started, anyway? Was he supposed to do something? Was it his responsibility to see that his knights got married? How could he, when the reputable female population of the valley currently consisted of three married women and a nine year-old?

“I need to speak with you,” he told Juste at supper that night. This was something else he didn’t know how to do, but for Ophele’s sake, he was going to try.

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