Word was quick to spread among the palace slaves, that Daphne had fallen from Laius' favour as easily as she had from mine. She did not respond to this turn in fortune - but kept her head bowed in the midst of her chores, scurrying through the halls like a startled mouse, saying nothing without being prompted, and answering only with hushed, single word replies.

I knew from those occasions when Arenthe glanced my way, that the old woman was longing to speak. There was a deep, melancholy sadness behind her eyes, saying so much more than words could have said. The elderly slave was closer to my heart than any other had ever been. Her pain was my pain, but I was unable to offer her any comfort in return.

So instead I would turn my face away, struggling without success to forget the lingering image of my most trusted servant's eyes.

Now was not a time for distractions. Laius was leaving on another one of his long and distant journeys, and protocol demanded that Lady Jocasta, Queen of Thebes should take the opportunity to farewell her now slightly aged king. Daphne and Chalcione were usually among the handmaidens who accompanied me on any of these official exchanges. But there were few in the royal household who could not have guessed why I elected to leave them both behind.

Laius approached without hesitation, but the eyes that met mine held no warmth. I felt that same chill touch my own, as if we were watching each other from either side of a long and empty stone-laden yard. It would be grey, I found myself thinking. Sunless - with weeds already showing through cracks in the rock. Hard to believe that he was close enough for me to smell the remains of last night's sacrificial feast upon his breath.

"My lord." I spoke first, inclining my head.

"Lady," he repeated the same deliberate gesture.

I looked into his eyes, showed nothing, and found nothing in return. The wife who had not given him a living heir watched the face of her husband, and spoke again - yet more distant, emotion-starved words.

"Good journey."

I retreated as swiftly as courtesy would allow, directly for my own concealed apartments.

It was Chalcione who greeted me there, standing at the entrance with her hands clasped tightly at her belly. "Mistress…" she began. I paused a few short steps away, and felt the presence of my other handmaidens close behind me on either side.

"Chalcione. Whatever you were wanting to say, I'm not about to wait forever to hear it."

The servant girl looked directly into my eyes, her own touched by tears, but there was an even deeper pain now hidden deep behind her face. She barely seemed able to find the voice to deliver her bad news.

"Mistress?" Arenthe's voice was weak as a breath as I knelt quietly at her side. She had been found by two of the other servants, both young women who arranged for her to be carried immediately to bed. She struggled to sit, but fell back again with a shallow gasp.

"Arenthe." I shifted closer. "Rest easy - I am right beside you."

"I am sorry, Lady. There is still so much work to be done, but I cannot… I…"

"Others can do the work," I told her. "Your duty is to rest, until… until you are well again."

Arenthe's eyes closed for just a moment. But finally, she opened them a mere fraction and turned to look my way.

"Lady Jocasta…?"

"What is it, Arenthe?"

I sensed my throat clench, so tightly that it brought me pain. The old woman's lids were heavy, her eyes already glazed, and a tear slipped quietly from one corner. A cold, white reflection shone from the pallor of skin which was unnervingly close to grey. "Lady, I am your slave. I know… I have no right to ask… And yet…"

"Anything," I whispered. "Ask me anything."

She opened her mouth, and sighed, chest rising as though the task of taking in any breath was as insurmountable as Sisyphus hauling his heavy stone up the same steep hill. "Daphne…" my long time servant gasped.

"I did not mean what I said to Daphne." My response was only marginally louder than her plea. "I am sorry for it. But I cannot remember a time when you were not there. You have been so good to me, for so very long. How can you have ever believed that you have no right to ask anything of me?"

"Forgive me, Lady…"

"Hush, Arenthe. There is nothing to forgive. I will take care of your daughter, and I know no person in this world who has less to be sorry for than you."