Page 49 of Claiming the Tower
Council Head Merriweather snorted, also looking more amused than otherwise. “Some people need the reminder that taking on a new role means letting go of the old. I look forward to getting to know you, Hereswith. For now, take your rest, and we will talk in the coming days.” He made a slight bow— courtesy, since he certainly ranked everyone there by any proper scale of precedence. Then he offered his arm to Magistra Ventry. They withdrew, and Hereswith was left with her family.
“I would like to go home, please. I am rather exhausted.” Her brothers came forward to kiss her cheek, then her sisters-in-law, then Marcus and William. Her nephew had seemed particularly pleased, and her niece suddenly a hair shy. There were comments about a celebratory gathering on the Saturday, when everything had settled a little and they could get invitations out. There was a little procession out to the portal. Hereswith’s father went through first, his sons going along to get him to the other side, then Hereswith, then Bess.
By the time Bess came out of the portal, Hereswith was standing there, her father and his valet having gone ahead. Bess automatically stepped to one side, then said, “What would help right now?”
“Could you see about some chocolate? I want a bath, if you’d send Mary up. And then—” Her eyes closed and she wavered a little on her feet. “I’m exhausted.” That she repeated the phrase underlined it. That was not something Hereswith did often.
“Let us get you inside, then, and in your own rooms.” Mary, thankfully, was waiting right inside, so Bess could send her to run the bath, another of the maids to see about chocolate, and she herself could guide Hereswith upstairs. By the time they’d reached the second floor, and got Hereswith’s gown and all the underlayers off, the bath had filled, and Bess got Hereswith into it. She left Mary to tidy up the clothing to be dealt with later. Bess went down to the kitchens where Cook had already seen to a plate of food to go with the chocolate.
Hereswith re-emerged from the bath perhaps twenty minutes later, bundled up in a dressing gown, and it was only then she sent Mary off. Bess got her into bed, with a tray table across her lap for the food and chocolate, then lifted her own mug. “Congratulations.”
“It’s going to change everything.” Hereswith’s voice was quiet. “And I don’t know how.”
“Is that a problem?” Bess kept her voice even.
Hereswith let out a long breath. “No? I don’t think so? Not us. I mean. Not us in a bad way? Probably? I’m not making sense.”
“You have just done the sort of exceedingly difficult thing that people never have words for, so I’m not surprised.” Bess pointed it out bluntly, and she was pleased that Hereswith responded with a smile and half a laugh. “And now you’re exhausted. What do you need right now?”
“Will you stay tonight? Here? I don’t care what Mary sees in the morning.”
“You might care in the morning,” Bess pointed out. “But I’ll stay at least until you’re asleep.”
“The thing about being on the Council,” Hereswith said it carefully, “is that it is a fresh set of rules? It looks like the same map, and it isn’t. It’s going to take me time to figure that out. But they can’t— they can’t take it away from me. Not without far more scandal and actual harm than someone being in bed with me in my own home.” She paused, and Bess was about to try to say something when Hereswith went on. “I don’t know how to explain most of it, but— let’s see. I saw things that need a novel approach, that need to tear down what has been done, what has been assumed to try something new. Do you mind being part of that?”
“So long as I get to be part of it, and with you, no. I’d mind if I were one of the things being torn down.” Bess admitted it softly.
“Build you up, I suspect. Tomorrow, we’re going to need— will you, I mean— to talk through a lot of social obligations and gowns and I don’t know what else.”
“We can do that. Starting with whatever celebration, yes?” Bess said. Then she nudged the plate of food closer to Hereswith. “Eat something. You’ll feel better if you do.” None of it was too rich. There were slices of early apples there, and good cheese, and a bit of bread and butter. Hereswith worked her way slowly through that — and more easily through the chocolate— until she’d had enough to be restorative.
Once Bess cleared the tray, leaving it in the sitting room for the morning, and coming back, Hereswith was curled up under the sheets. Bess joined her, a little uncertain, but then Hereswith reached out a hand. Bess took it, then peered at it. “May I offer you a little vitality? You’ll sleep better, I’m sure.”
“I can’t ask.” Hereswith looked at their hands in the dim light from the charmlight in the hallway.
“I am offering. You’re not asking. Your part is to say yes, thank you. You could say no. Please don’t.” Bess said it as firmly as she could, and as gently.
It made Hereswith laugh again. “Can you dim the light, then, and— yes? Please. A new dance. I suppose I’m going to learn a new way of going about my work.”
“A different range of magic, certainly.” Bess agreed.
“You—” Hereswith’s voice caught. “You didn’t assume I haven’t been using it. Most people do. I’m working with the non-magical.”
“Which just means you can’t use the obvious magics. But I’m sure you’ve been using dozens of things to present yourself as you choose. Well-dressed, but also well-spoken, whatever you prefer for memory, all of that.” Bess took it as a cue to snuggle into the bed. It was an enormous bed, comfortable, and charmed to be even more so than the mattress and bedding suggested. “Give me your hands properly, then.”
Hereswith didn’t argue, pressing her hands palm to palm with Bess. The angle was awkward. Usually they’d be upright, with Bess letting her magic flow down. But she’d done this dozens of times with her various employers or as part of helping the kitchen staff on a busy day. She could let her magic flow out. It moved like warmed honey, not a fast rush, but a steady one with weight behind it. They lay like that for a good handful of minutes until Hereswith whispered, “Enough.”
“Sleep well.” Bess lay there in the dark, her hand on Hereswith’s forearm, just listening to the change in breath. Hereswith was asleep almost immediately, and Bess followed eventually.
Chapter 33
August 30th at Dinas Emrys
The week between her Challenge and her first formal meeting as a member of the Council had been far too full. Many of the points had been satisfying, a few had been delightfully pleasant, but a number had been tedious. Hereswith had held up under the weight, but she’d questioned how essential each and every demand was.
The thing about protocol, about etiquette, was that it was an agreement about how things ought to go that all sides could build from. There were certainly ways to demand higher status than was correct, or to make another party look bad. And the more Hereswith looked at her last seven days, the more places she saw where people were holding to unhelpful expectations. Unhelpful for everyone.
She’d managed a course between the rocks of everyone in the Ministry wanting a word and the whirlpool of gossip that ebbed and flowed wherever she went. Hereswith had focused on wrapping up her notes for her work with Marcus, agreeing on a story that would suit. It was not impossible that Hereswith would be in London on Council business at some time, so they could not have a convenient death, which might be tidier. Besides, the simpler lies were easier to maintain. Marcus would have someone else assigned to hostess, most likely, though who was still not determined.
