Page 43 of Enchanted Net
“I also brought a book. I packed exceedingly thoughtfully, as you have seen.” That got him a squeeze of his hand, and then she moved to kiss him on the cheek, once, gently.
“You are kind, thoughtful.” Her breath caught. “Please. A nap sounds like the best thing in the world, or whatever rest there might be.” Vitus twisted to gather up the blanket and hand it over, as well as fishing out his book. Thessaly ended up tilted, using the arm of the bench as the framework for the pillow. She had folded the blanket to make it comfortable, and her hands curled up loosely against her chest. One of them still held the piece of jasper. She had refused to let it go or to put it away. It wasn’t terribly comfortable, he suspected. Her spine was held straight by the corset and cut of the dress. But within a couple of minutes he could hear her breathing change, and he was sure she was sleeping.
He checked the time on his watch, and she had most of an hour left. Vitus opened his book, but he did not read much. He certainly didn’t retain any of it. Instead, he alternated between watching her and thinking about what she’d said. He had in front of him direct evidence that she felt safe enough with him. Safe to fall asleep, safe to be honest, he thought, in several directions.
Vitus wanted more of that. For all she was a duellist, for all she was of Fox House, and the sort of sharply talented family that could take care of themselves, she trusted him to watch over her. Now, it wasn’t likely there would be much risk in an apple orchard inside her family’s warding. He still liked that trust, and he liked that she’d answered his questions.
And he also liked the answers. Of course, there were things he could not have with her. Not marriage, not children. He himself - as Mama kept reminding him - would need to marry sooner than later. It was a way to establish himself as fundamentally respectable and a reliable pillar of the community. But given that there was no one he was interested in, that could come in its own time.
It wasn’t even that Thessaly had promised anything in specific - of course she hadn’t, and of course he wouldn’t press her. Or even ask about it. Not until she was out of mourning, until she smiled more freely again, until she wanted it. If she ever wanted it. In the meantime, he would bask in her friendship and in her inquisitive nature. And he’d look forward to the prospect of more conversations about magic and theory and what to do with it that made a difference in the world.
And perhaps he’d have a long conversation with Niobe about what sorts of things he might read up on that Thessaly would be interested in talking about in due course. More about stones, that was easy. She’d seemed rather interested in the variations, the way they worked in practice. He could certainly learn more about illusion work, and she might recommend some places to start in a few weeks. More about the materia that went into the salle protections, some of that was crushed stones, he knew that much.
His fingers came up to touch where she’d kissed. It had been fleeting, the kind of kiss he gave to his mother, or that he’d given to Grandmother. The kiss had been affectionate, fond. It didn’t necessarily mean anything beyond that. But he’d be remembering it. He knew that. Vitus let out a little sigh. He had to keep a grip on himself. For his own sake, and for hers. He couldn’t assume, even if at least he knew a bit more about the boundaries now.
In due course, the chime on his watch sounded a little imitation of a bird call. He cleared his throat. “Thessaly? Time to wake up.” She stirred a little, but didn’t wake, and he considered. Then he leaned over to touch her shoulder, her upper arm, just enough to move her. “Thessaly? It’s half two. You needed to get back.”
That got her blinking, rubbing her face, then pushing herself upright. She almost dropped the stone, then closed her fingers around it. “Did I sleep the entire time? I’m sorry, you must be so bored.”
“It was a pleasure to keep an eye out. You obviously needed the rest. But you’d said you didn’t want to be out here too long. Let me pack up. I assume you need to let me out of the warding, too.” He then considered. “If I needed to leave something for you, would it be safe to leave it just outside the fence here? Tucked out of the way?”
“If I knew to come look for it.” She was still a little muzzy from sleep, and she rubbed her face again. “A note to tell me to come look for it if we can’t meet up.” Then she reached for his hand, fingers curling under his palm. “I’d rather see you, though. If we can.”
“If we can. I’d like that too, very much.” There was nothing else he could say to that, so he didn’t, just held her fingers for a long moment before he moved to pack up his things. “I should take the cakes?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t try them. Or can I have one to eat on the way back?”
He handed it over and packed up the rest. She stood, brushing out her skirts, then went to the gate ahead of him, to let him out. When he was through the gate, she looked him over one last time. “Thank you.” Just the two words. Then she closed the gate and turned and walked away.
Chapter33
June 23rd
In the middle of the night
“Thess?” Thessaly had half-heard a noise, waking enough out of sleep to shove the jasper under the corner of her pillow. She did not know what time it was, besides still dark. She’d been asleep for a fair bit, more asleep than previous nights. There’d been some sound before her name, she was fairly sure of that.
“Mm, who?” Only as soon as she said it, she knew who it had to be. Who would call her that? “Hermia?”
The door cracked open - she could just see the edge of it crack open, a shadow against shadows in the waning moonlight. “Can I sleep with you? I woke up and...”
Thessaly hesitated. It wouldn’t help her sleep, but she also would not leave her sister on her own, not like that. When she talked to Vitus next, she didn’t want to admit she’d done that. She pushed herself upright, slipping the jasper into a small bowl on her bedside table. “Come, yes.” That meant wiggling over to one side of the bed, making sure the sheet and light blanket weren’t too tangled.
“I left a note.” It wasn’t like Hermia hadn’t done this before, though not for a year or two. It had started when she’d read some of the historical stories about sisters sharing a bed, and wanting that closeness, instead of the way they were often so separate. Fitchley, her governess, tolerated it - she had a younger sister herself - and Thessaly was fairly sure that Mama and Father didn’t actually know. They didn’t care much about what went on in Thessaly’s rooms or in the nursery, as long as they didn’t cause trouble or disrupt anything.
There were quick steps across the floor, Hermia pausing to remove her slippers, her hair in a braid down her back and smoothed back by the nightcap. It was one of Thessaly’s hand-me-downs, still good enough to be worn, but the lace had been mended twice. Then Hermia was in the bed, tucking her feet under the sheets and cuddling up close to Thessaly. Thessaly settled on her back, her sister’s head on her shoulder.
“Sorry I woke you. Were you sleeping?” Hermia’s breath tickled a little.
“I was. It’s all right. I—” Thessaly’s voice caught for a second. “I’m glad you came.” She was, too. She was glad her sister trusted her to be there. Only, in a few months, next spring, she wouldn’t be. She’d be in rooms in Arundel, away from her sister, away from her family, living by a different set of rules and assumptions. She might well have her own bedroom - she was fairly sure the Fortiers tended that way, though of course it wasn’t a thing anyone could ask about. Mama and Father did, though their rooms adjoined, with a door between them. “Did you have a nightmare, or just couldn’t sleep?”
Hermia was quiet for a long moment. “Both?” She sounded uncertain at first. Then, with more confidence, she repeated it. “Both.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Thessaly wasn’t entirely sure what to say, but saying something mattered. Vitus had done that for her today. It had left her with enough ability to cope to pass it on.
Hermia shrugged once, then she asked, “Are Mama and Father fighting with each other?” She’d had supper with them - it had just been the family.
“Neither of them has talked to me about it.” But Thessaly had eyes and all sorts of other modes of perception. “Yes. I don’t know what about, though.” Not that Thessaly didn’t have a few guesses.
