Daemon’s lip curled in disgust. “What could a child possibly say that would make them want to lock her up like that?”

“She said…” Cook looked nervous and upset. “She said Lord Benedict wasn’t her father. She said Prince Philip…”

Daemon let out an explosive sigh. Yes, from what he’d observed of the dynamics of this family, a statement like that would throw them all into a fury. Still…

Cook gave him a long, slow look and refilled the mugs. “Let me tell you about Miss Jaenelle.

“Two years ago, the Warlord my daughter was serving decided he wanted a prettier wench and turned my daughter out, along with the child she’d borne him. They came here to me, not having any other place to go, and Lady Alexandra let them stay. My girl, being poorly at the time, did some light parlor work and helped me in the kitchen. My granddaughter, Lucy—the cutest little button you ever saw—stayed in the kitchen with me mostly, although Miss Jaenelle always included her in the games whenever the girls were outside. Lucy didn’t like being out on her own. She was afraid of Lord Benedict’s hunting dogs, and the dog boys, knowing she was scared, teased her, getting the dogs all riled up and then slipping them off the leash so they’d chase her.

“One day it went too far. The dogs had been given short rations because they were going to be taken out and they were meaner than usual, and the boys got them too riled up. The pack leader slipped his leash, took off after Lucy, and chased her into the tackroom. She tripped, and he was on her, tearing at her arm. When we heard the screams, my daughter and I came running from the kitchen, and Andrew, one of the stable lads, a real good boy, came running too.

“Lucy was on the floor, screaming and screaming with that dog tearing at her arm, and all of a sudden, there was Miss Jaenelle. She said some strange words to the dog, and he let go of Lucy right away and slunk out of the tackroom, his tail between his legs.

“Lucy was a mess, her arm all torn up, the bone sticking up where the dog had snapped it. Miss Jaenelle told Andrew to get a bucket of water quick, and she knelt down beside Lucy and started talking to her, quiet-like, and Lucy stopped screaming. Andrew came back with the water, and Miss Jaenelle pulled out this big oval basin from somewhere, I never did notice where it came from. Andrew poured the water in the basin, and Miss Jaenelle held it for a minute, just held it, and the water started steaming like it was over a fire. Then she put Lucy’s arm in the basin and took some leaves and powders out of her pocket and poured them in the water. She held Lucy’s arm down, singing all the while, quiet. We just stood and watched. No point taking the girl to a Healer, even if we could have scraped up the coin to pay a good one. I knew that. That arm was too mangled. The best even a good Healer could have done was cut it off. So we watched, my daughter, Andrew, and me. Couldn’t see much, the water all bloody like it was.