Thanks for your patience, everybody, and special thanks to everyone that reminded me that this story isn't anywhere close to finished. Real life knocked me for a loop this semester/year, but things are finally getting back on track.
Lioness Chapter Five
The day before, Salma Aynnur had been much like any Lower City laundress struggling to find enough wages to keep her tiny apartment without relying overmuch on offered help from the Rogue. She hadn't met the man herself, which had led to a great skepticism about any man promising to help her pay rent for nothing more than a promise to not aid the Palace Guard against him. That all sounded well enough, but Salma had met quite a few young noblemen during her stint as a palace laundress, and she knew how easy the strings of promises and "just a little in return" could start to build into an obligation she could never repay.
On the last morning of her old life, she had woken a half-bell before sunrise wearing almost every stitch of clothing she owned, one right over the other. It was only autumn, but a cold snap had left her very much wanting for coal or firewood. She had noticed several neighbors drawing more than they should be able to afford from the cart, but that was for people that believed some so-called King of the Rogue would provide for them in exchange for nothing more than a little trust. He was the King of Thieves, after all, even if he had adopted nearly the entirety of the honest Lower City folks along with the crooked.
She had tied on her apron (always hung neatly on a peg near the door, because three years in the palace's great laundry rooms left her feeling uneasy without a pristine, unwrinkled white apron), and had smoothed her hands over several nearly-invisible bits of patching that were all too obvious to her trained eye. By necessity, laundresses were also seamstresses, though they did nothing so glamorous as make gowns from whole cloth. Instead, they mended the small tears and loose buttons on the gowns of the great ladies while wearing linen gloves to keep their rough hands from the fabric itself. Her clothes were just as tidily and thriftily mended, and it was with regret that several layers were folded into the trunk at the foot of her bed. Aside from the trunk and bed, the rest of her room was devoted to laundry, and the great tub that had taken most of her savings between its purchase and the young men to help her move it up into the room.
The morning had started readily enough, with her favorite clients appearing promptly at the tenth bell with coin in hand. Several of them paid less than the going rate for such work, but Salma knew all too well how hard it could be to keep one's head above water when the only other choice was the poorhouse or the Rogue. No new orders had come in, probably due to the sudden cold that kept people inside without the most vital errands, so she was left to work at making a dress for herself from scrap fabric and educated guesswork until her luncheon, which was the same as her breakfast. It was just porridge, warmed again on the fire, but for lunch she had savory spices to mix into it. She sometimes had sugar for breakfast, but only when times were very rich, as the summer had been. When folk stopped sweating, and started tightening their belts for the winter, the laundresses did the same.
If Salma could find the trick of creating serviceable clothing from the ragman's gleanings, she might be comfortable through the winter, with enough coal to please the Rogue himself. Unfortunately, when luncheon was passed and she took to her needle again, she found that she had again knotted two pieces of fabric together. She was a fast study at repairing someone else's work, but never was going to be one of those to create new.
At the second bell, when she was beginning to think that she had been a fool to try her luck in Corus after being dismissed from the palace's laundry, she had a knock on the door. Salma straightened her apron and patted her hair through force of habit, as the chief laundress had been a stickler for appearances, before opening the door to find someone far above the income of her usual clients.
The lady (she surely had to be a lady, for all that she wasn't noble-born) had warm hazel eyes and silver streaks in her chestnut hair. Salma liked her better for letting the silver show at the temples with no attempts to comb it beneath the rest or dye it into nothing. Salma automatically bobbed a curtsy and invited the woman to take her typical seat, leaving Salma where her clients could perch if they had a mind to stay and chat. She didn't have anything better to offer than very watery tea, but the lady accepted as graciously as if it were Saren Goldleaf.
"It seems very rude to begin a conversation stating that I know of you, Miss Aynnur, but I fear that my son and his friends have been a terrible influence," her guest began, after producing a neat cloth bag of sugar cubes. Salma had taken two, at first, but when the lady took four in her tea, she dared to take a third. So much sweetness was nearly foreign, but she wasn't one to turn away from a good thing.
"I'm flattered that you know my name, as it happens. It is very helpful for one's work as a laundress."
"It is just so for work as a healer. I am Eleni Cooper, of no particular title or lineage, but perhaps it is of note that I worked in the Temple of the Goddess until some quirk of fate left me with child from a onetime indiscretion. My particular temple sect was devoted to the Maiden, so they threw me several very nice receptions and scraped together enough that I wasn't thrown out on my ear."
Salma wasn't sure what she was meant to think, given the confession of such a scandal, but perhaps the point was that Salma's own past wasn't quite so bad, even if Mistress Cooper knew of such minor things. Most importantly, Mistress Cooper had tended to the Goddess. No one would dare lie in her name, and any woman cast away in shame nearly always spent her entire life atoning. The Goddess did not forgive deception or betrayal, making her the frequent patron for those hurt by men.
When Salma said nothing, Mistress Cooper continued. "I have taken a student, recently, who does happen to be ennobled but with no surplus of petty cash. A maid is very necessary, at the palace, but she doesn't require the typical lady's maid that would like to be ostentatious in the reflection of glory. She is rather shy, as it happens, and beyond room and board can only offer four silver nobles until Midwinter."
Four silver nobles was what Salma might see in a year, given that all of her bills were paid in coppers and promises. Still, she held her tongue, waiting for what catch would come.
Mistress Cooper's smile made her feel that she'd passed some test. "I am seeking a candidate for her approval. I will, of course, be prepared to offer a silver noble myself for your trouble in closing shop and coming to my home. You have my word by the Goddess that this is no trick or trap, and that I will not have you come to harm."
"I don't understand why you would choose me for such a posting, mistress," Salma said finally, curious enough to be direct. "I've no experience with usual maidwork, besides mending, and I'm sure you can judge by my hair that I'm no fast hand with styling." Her always-frizzy brown hair had always annoyed the chief laundress, and had been even worse in the dense fog of the rinserooms. Most of the boys had teased her, except the clerk that hadn't had any eyes for her hair. That clerk had probably never noticed that her eyes were dark brown.
"You've worked in the palace before, Miss Aynnur, and you also have several traits that my lady would admire greatly. You are very independent, self-sufficient, and practical. You also have just the kind of common sense that I would require in a maid for my lady," Eleni said bluntly. "In the interest of full disclosure, I'll say that my son is the Rogue. He has an eye on all new folk to move into the area, and he's been quite interested in someone that prefers to stand on her own two feet when he's happy to offer a hand to anyone that needs it."
She couldn't understand how this woman could have borne the Rogue, but she had heard about beautiful hazel eyes from the girl two floors down, who had a rather hopeless crush on the king of thieves. Rill was a very pretty pickpocket, as it happened, but had promised it wasn't done to steal from neighbors. Salma thought that it was fair foolish to have a crush on a man that Rill hadn't been brave enough to speak with, but she still had Rill bringing by a few bits of laundry once a week, with the girl staying after at least an hour to chatter. Listening to chatter was always part of being a maid, as it happened, even with the quieter girls.
Salma considered for several seconds, and felt a little better when Mistress Cooper gave that time and went back to sipping the tea-flavored sugarwater. "I would like to meet her, I think," she said, feeling as if there wouldn't be a way back to her simple little life mostly spent alone with her laundry and her needle. Salma wasn't the superstitious type, and felt fair uncomfortable in any part of the Temple district, but she always lit a candle for the Goddess when she could afford wax over tallow. She knew that there were some people the Goddess herself had a hand on, and that Eleni Cooper may well be one of them; the small hairs on the back of her neck were prickling, as if someone beside Mistress Cooper were watching.
Mistress Cooper looked quite certain, and every bit of her flattery had rung true to Salma's ears. Salma Aynnur wouldn't be bought or sold by empty words, but she would listen to honesty. "If I take the posting, would someone be able to collect my trunk? It's all that I have worth carrying on, and I imagine that someone else would pay a bit more to come to rooms already set up for laundering with clients coming by."
Mistress Cooper smiled, and even helped wash the two teacups before Salma tucked them carefully into her trunk.
Salma wore her apron for good luck, with her sewing kit tucked into the pocket and her threadbare quilted jacket over her favorite everyday dress. She was relieved and surprised to not find a carriage available, and too sensible to refuse Mistress Cooper's offer of a snack in the marketplace. Cinnamon-raisin buns were a luxury, and it took her nearly the whole of the walk to savor two of the three Mistress Cooper (who Salma might eventually call Eleni, as the lady had requested the informality) had purchased from a baker. The baker had nodded very respectfully to Mistress Cooper, and had presented her cinnamon-raisin bun with an extra flourish.
Salma thought that the fuss was for the Rogue, more than it was for Mistress Cooper, but it had been gracious all the same.
The rest of the day had been just as strange. Mistress Cooper had found several old dresses of hers that would fit Salma very nicely, with the seams taken in a touch, and Salma had accepted them before she realized that the cloth was finer than anything she'd hoped to own. From there, it had been easy enough to accept the subterfuge that she had worked as Mistress Cooper's maid, even if it had been for half an afternoon, to give Lady Alanna more importance as someone who hired a proper maid, over someone who hired a laundress.
Eleni had been very kind in explaining just what it was that a fine lady's maid did, when not screaming at the laundress or telling the chief laundress that the frizzy-haired nuisance had been shirking her duties (she hadn't) to flirt with the clerk (he wouldn't have wasted time in flirting, not when he was stronger.) Salma had been foolish enough to tell the chief laundress the truth, instead of sobbing and promising to work a month without wages, so she had been turned out on her ear and the clerk hadn't even been reprimanded. Being a laundress had meant entire days of hard work with the chief laundress always wanting more speed and more stains taken away at the first washing.
As it happened, a proper lady's maid would help her lady in and out of the various court outfits, make sure that bathwater was ready, help with hair and jewelry, run errands, and generally do all the things that the court lilies couldn't be expected to handle. It was a boon to be able to mend things, as well as to do quick laundry the lady would prefer to keep private, such as the rags for monthlies. Salma thought it all sounded much easier than freezing in a garret, especially since fall had been miserable and winter would be worse, and could bear the most obnoxious lady for the promise of her own room that backed against a hearth, and time to herself no matter how overbearing the lady.
Salma was ready for the scheduled interview at seven, even after an hour to fret by herself. Mistress Cooper had gone to the palace to chaperone Lady Alanna, and should have been back quite a bit before seven. Instead, at five minutes past the seventh bell, a hazel-eyed man with a very large nose let himself in the front door without so much as a rap on the wood. He was dressed in very expensive cloth, however rough the cut, and she knew well enough when a seam had been altered. She'd bet her best needles that he had knives beneath those clothes, and his ease in the house let her guess just who she was about to meet.
She was surprised when he nodded his head politely, as if she were some kind of equal, and startled enough to nod back as if she wanted something to do with a rogue. She'd met enough rogues, and one of them had cost her a very comfortable existence at the palace laundry. She hadn't gotten on well with the other girls, perhaps, but it had been nice enough.
"So you'll be the famous Miss Aynnur," he said, because she wouldn't have started that conversation for a gold noble. "Infamous, perhaps, as it's rare for my boys t'see you at all. I'm not here on any sort of official business, mind, but my mother wanted to pass on a message. She and the lady are goin' to be late. There was a bit of a scuffle in the stables, and no healer can resist patching up some foolish children caught up in the middle of a mess not of their makin'."
"What happened?" Salma asked, the words nearly involuntary.
"Two fools what call themselves squires argued in th' stables. Ralon of Malven, and Thom of Trebond, as it happens, and Thom's the lady's twin brother. Ralon's nuisance enough that Thom lashed out with his Gift, throwing several horses into a startle. The spooked ponies knocked a few pages into walls." The Rogue read her expression very well, for someone that had never known her before. "They'll all be fine. My mother's always been good at her work, and it happens that Lady Alanna's a natural healer. She's a good lass, as good as that twin of hers is rotten."
Maybe it was his easy manner, but she already felt at ease enough to be impertinent in a way that would have driven the chief laundress into a fury. "You're a very strange man, sir."
He actually laughed, and it was the kind that meant he'd not at all taken offense. "You'll not be the first to say so, and I wager you'll not be the last. It's George, anyway, the only folk that call me anything grand usually plan to pester me later if they're not outright after th' throne."
"I don't think I actually believed all those things I heard until yesterday morning, or I might have taken a little help," she admitted, feeling almost bad for all the offers she'd spurned. "I could have done with a bit of coal, but without knowing you, I thought there'd be more conditions."
"There's always room for a bargain, if you like, but you seem the straightforward type. I'd a mind to ask someone into the palace who'd report to me about goings-on, but my mother wouldn't hear of it. She said Alanna needed someone sensible that was good at listening and practical enough to sort out problems without nannying, and from all I've heard you'll do very well."
George was just as blunt as his mother, and Salma liked him despite all of her long-held reservations. "Thank you, George." He did seem much more like a real person than some self-titled king. "I feel that all parties but the lady are already agreed, but that'll be the point of the interview. I'm not all that qualified in the traditional sense, but your mother did say that the lady's guardsman had helped the woman acting as Lady Alanna's maid."
"That'll do well, then. Coram will approve of anyone helping his lady, excepting me, but he likes my mother well enough." George turned to the window. She didn't hear anything of interest, but he smiled and nudged a kettle of water onto the fire. Almost a full minute later, she heard the clatter of horsehoofs on cobblestone.
Salma wondered if it was bloodthirstiness that kept him in the kingship for so long, but perhaps he was as supernaturally sensitive as the tales said. "How did you hear them?"
"Saw them, as it happens. Between my mother's and the lady's hair, I can see them from a half mile back- there we are, the stablehand of my mother's is right on time, for once," he continued before she could protest that no one could pick two people from a crowd at half a mile, distinctive hair or not. "You ready, Salma? The lady might be in a temper, but it's nought t' do with you. Her own brother caused the mess that hurt those pages."
"I worked for the palace's chief laundress, George. I don't expect she's bitter enough for that manner of temper."
"Fair enough, Salma, more than fair enough." George might have said something else along the lines of encouragement, but the kitchen door had already opened to reveal a pale redheaded woman with straw all through her hair, followed by Eleni Cooper. Eleni looked just as calm as she had that morning, even with her lilac gown liberally streaked with straw and horse leavings.
"I'll just be a minute to change, and to find something that may work for Lady Alanna," Eleni said, gently guiding Alanna into a chair. "Good, George, the hot water will do us all some good. Load her tea with all the honey that'll take, and never mind that it'll look like syrup."
Salma would have introduced herself first, but the lady looked far too tired for names. She took up the comb that had been left near the doorway instead, and drew herself up with all the no-nonsense dignity she'd always admired in the palace maids. "I'll be seeing to your hair," she said, pleased when there was no argument. The lady did look all too pale, even considering what her normal complexion would be.
Between her work and George's quiet encouragement, the lady looked much closer to human by the time Eleni emerged with a clean face, cleaner hair, and a black gown draped over her shoulder. "I threw a baste stitch into the hem, but it still might drag a bit," Eleni admitted. "I'll get that fixed before we send you back, and I'll get the dress clean for you."
"Thank you, Eleni," Alanna said, her voice raspy despite two cups of sweetened tea. "I suppose I should have been more careful with that last healing, but I wanted that bone healed in time for the poor lad to get back to his work. Mindelan is one of Myles' favorites."
"Anders is a sweet boy," Eleni replied, nodding Salma toward a seat at the table. "We've missed introductions, I believe, but I think the two of you will suit quite well. Lady Alanna, I would like you to meet Salma Aynnur. She isn't experienced in the traditional way, but I took the liberty of guessing you'd rather have someone immensely worthy of trust."
Salma was blushing by the time that Eleni continued. "Miss Aynnur, I would like to introduce Lady Alanna. She's a very powerful healer, and clever enough to loathe Duke Roger."
Alanna's eyes widened at that little piece of information, and her quick gaze to Eleni was all too sharp. Eleni's smile was mild, however, leaving the two of them to shake hands. Salma hadn't expected that sort of hello, but it did lead her to think well of her presumptive employer. Duke Roger's clerk had been the one to put out those rumors about her, and to have her removed from the palace. Duke Roger had never contradicted the man's outright lies.
"If Mistress Cooper approves, I can't imagine why I wouldn't. I would be honored if you would accept my offer, Miss Aynnur."
"I'd be a fool not to accept, my lady, and my mother didn't raise any fools." Salma thought that she'd like the posting, besides, but that was a thought for another day.
With that settled, Eleni took over. She drew a bath for Alanna, set out the new black dress, and had her stableman agree to walk Salma to her place with the hand-cart to fetch her belongings. The stableman would install Salma in the small room off of Lady Alanna's, and George and Eleni would walk Alanna back to the palace.
Alanna only felt mostly human again when Eleni had bustled her into the borrowed black dress. It fit very nicely, to Alanna's visible surprise. It was very hard to hide emotions in general, but a rather hopeless endeavor when she felt so tired.
"I used to cut quite the figure, you know," Eleni teased, working quickly with the row of buttons going up the entire back. "George's father certainly thought so, but I shouldn't wonder that my boy took after the charming Master Cooper that coaxed me away from my vows. For all that, though, George is more honest than his father ever was."
"It's not that, honestly," Alanna said, smoothing her newly-cleaned hands over the thick, practical skirt. "I'm just short enough that most clothing never fits properly."
"I think you're keeping this dress, dear, and next time we can try to have you in something like this before we need a healing. You did wonderfully with those boys, and I suspect that young Anders will have a crush on you by the time he wakes up tomorrow." Eleni laughed, seeing Alanna surprised for the second time in just a minute. "Oh, Alanna, you entirely underestimate your appeal. You remembered that boy's name, you healed him, and you let him keep his pride."
"I definitely could do worse for a first boy to take real interest." He was a very sweet boy, for all that he was already taller than she was. Duke Baird had told her that the height mostly came from the boy's mother. Baird had been in a far library, and had been extremely pleased to see most of the immediate needs already mended. He had more than enough Gift to satisfy the smaller of the injuries.
"Like Ralon of Malven, say, but there's one advantage of your brother's reputation. Ralon will have nothing to do with you, with you as a known favorite of Sir Myles." Eleni's words were blunt, and too practical to be hurtful. She was the first person besides George, Myles, and Coram to openly talk about her relationship with her brother, and Alanna didn't mind it from any of them.
Alanna blushed slightly at just how widely known it was that Myles liked her. He was hardly one to be shy, and he'd told all parties likely to enjoy the story about the time she disarmed a trained cutthroat to save him, but it seemed that everyone cared. She half-expected people to talk of some impending nuptials, not that Myles seemed to be pushing for such a happening. Still, it had been obvious enough that her father wrote her an approving letter about her friendship with Sir Myles. Her father was actually coming to Court, for once, to present several of his researches at the university in her mother's honor. Marinie had always helped him with the larger projects, and she had been very clear that knowledge wasn't meant to be hidden away in dark rooms.
She still wasn't ready to think about her mother, however, so she let that thought be. "I don't know what happened to Thom." Alanna distracted herself with the last few bits of straw rubbing at her neck. "He never cared as much about other people as he did about his Gift, but there was always room for me. It's like Duke Roger hasn't left any space."
"That may be an advantage," George said from the doorway. "Miss Aynnur's on her way, mother, and it can only be for the good that she gets a minute to settle in. With luck, she could even distract Coram."
"George!" Eleni scolded. "The lady might have been changing, still."
"Not with you fussing at the combs." George nodded to the ivory combs on the set of drawers that Eleni had been idly cleaning. "I could hear those three rooms away and a floor down."
Alanna smiled, and somehow wasn't surprised that she wasn't upset with him. It was just his style, after all, and it wasn't as if he'd tried to sneak a look. "It's alright, Eleni. I'd hardly ask him to act like a gentleman. Aside from Duke Baird, Sir Myles, and Anders of Mindelan, I've not been much impressed with the entire group."
"And you have all of a commoner's sense, so here we are," George said, grinning. "Well, mother? Shall we walk the lady back to the palace before she decides she'd rather bunk up with you?"
Feeling daring from a night of healing wounds (and well enough that Duke Baird had approved!), and from hiring a very satisfactory maid, Alanna took George's arm. "Yes, thank you," she said in the most supercilious tone she could manage. It lasted for all of three words, but felt so foreign that she stopped. "If I get any more sensible, I won't fit in at all when it comes to palace affairs."
They talked in that vein the entire way to the palace, with Eleni laughing at George's more outrageous stories about what Alanna would be able to do as a member of his court, compared to King Roald's. She admitted that his sounded more interesting just before they parted ways, and just in time for Coram to scowl at George. (George would readily admit that he liked the game of tweaking Coram and pretending to back down at glares, but Coram wasn't ready to say he liked teasing the thief yet. Alanna would give her favorite guardsman all the time he needed.)
Maybe Thom had turned selfish, in her absence, but until he saw the light she'd just do as she'd always done when he was in one of his moods. She'd clean up after him, mend the mistakes, and wait until he realized that his sister's approval meant something.