But—the thought of the morning ride, another of those times when she could forget, for a little, as Caryo moved into a gallop, and she could lean over that warm, white neck and let the movement and the rush of air and the rhythm all lull her into a kind of trance, that same state of not being that she was just longing for—that broke through the lethargy. It was hard to tell why, but it did; it made her decide that she had to get up, to keep moving, to try for another candlemark, another day. And as she forced her legs out from under the covers, it occurred to her that as long as she just kept moving, even if she didn’t find any peace or escape in movement, she might at least find a little more distraction.

Distraction. She had to distract anyone from knowing she’d been crying, or they’d want to know why, and then there would be all that stupid nonsense that she didn’t want to hear.

She slipped out of bed and went to the table where a basin and pitcher waited; she splashed some of the cold water into the basin, and bathed her face until she thought that most of the signs of her tears were gone. Her eyes were probably still red, but with luck, no one would remark on it. After all, with all of the snow glare out there yesterday, probably they’d think it was that. If anyone said anything, she’d claim it was snow glare. And maybe she could claim a headache, too, and cut the Council session short.

She blew her nose, and went back to her bed, and crawled back into it, feeling as exhausted as if she hadn’t slept at all.

:Just close your eyes,: Caryo advised. :They’ll expect you to sleep late after last night. You really did look lovely, you know. All of the young Heralds, at least, were saying so. I can’t speak for the Bards; they don’t have Companions to gossip about them, but the Heralds were very taken with how you looked.:

:They were?: That was—if not comforting, at least it was satisfying. Nice to know that she did look as good as she had thought.

:Believe it or not, even Alberich thought so. In fact, I think he might have had just a twinge of jealousy when he handed you off to Orthallen.: