28 What the Maid Saw
Dagbjört sadly admitted her Lady and the dark prince were in the middle of another argument. Usually they couldn't keep their hands off each other: the two stroked each other's legs under the table, linked hands, sat so close together by the fireside their bodies blended into one shadow.
I saw them together here last week, Dagbjört thought as she carried a tray of tea things to the nursery. That night the maid spied Prince Loki backing the Lady Natasha into a corner; his long hands flattened against the wall to hold his wife in place as he bent to kiss her throat. At the sight, Dagbjört backed away and told the cook to cancel dinner… again.
But now the lord of the castle skulked in his study while Lady Natasha sat with their daughter, wiping her over-bright eyes with the backs of her hands when she thought no one was looking.
It was the fifth day they had been thus.
The maid put down the tray, left her mistress, and went downstairs. Her heart lay heavy in her chest. Dagbjört loved her lady dearly; Natasha always spoke softly and was firm but fair. Who could not adore such a beautiful, courageous mistress? Nearly a year ago she discovered Dagbjört's brother lost the use of his legs and doubled the maid's salary on the spot. She had a chair made for him with wheels so he could return to the fields. And each month a huge basket of food arrived at the house; there was no label, but the maid knew who sent it.
She paused at the door of the study. Prince Loki stood at the windows; as soon as Dagbjört entered he turned swiftly. "I did not call you. Return to your kitchens, child."
A sudden idea came into Dagbjört's head. "It's the Lady Natasha," she blurted out. "She asked that you meet her in the orchard an hour hence."
The prince twitched his brows together. "Did she? And was there a reason given?"
The maid shook her head. "None." She could hardly believe her own audacity. As soon as the prince dismissed her she ran to the mistress and gave an altered version of the message, hoping she wouldn't end in the stocks.
What occurred in the orchard, no one other than the master and mistress ever knew. But the following evening, Dagbjört entered the library and found them pressed together on the loveseat. Prince Loki's dark head was bent over Natasha's red one, and the maid could hear their heated sighs and soft whispers mingling in the atmosphere of parchment and old leather.
With a wide grin, she shut the door silently and danced back to the cook to tell her the news.