“Come sleep wi’ my lance. I’ll see you right. In the morning, Sukey will assign you somewhere.”

Blanche nodded. “I’m the Queen’s laundress,” she said. “I don’t really need to be assigned.”

Nell looked as if she might say more, but Diccon chose that moment to poke his head in.

Blanche was appalled at how casually these people dealt with the Queen. But she saw her new friend’s face light up.

“Run along and have a chat wi’ your lad,” she said in her best grown-up voice. “I’ll finish this little pile of things and hang ’em. But come back and show me where to sleep, eh, my sweet?”

Nell nodded and gripped her hand like a man. “I’ll be back,” she said. “Diccon’s never long,” she said with a sly smile.

Diccon’s head vanished.

“You know how babies is made?” Blanche asked.

“Oh, aye. I even practise, from time to time. You?” Nell shot back.

Both girls laughed, and then Nell went off into the dark stone barn, and Blanche kept boiling her linens, though her eyes would scarcely stay open.

She did a haphazard job, by her own standards. Really, what she needed was more clean water, and she was, just for a moment, too tired to fetch it and a little defeated by not knowing where it had come from.

The inner door opened, and she turned, hoping for Nell.

Instead, it was the dark-haired lord. The Red Knight, except he’d worn green all day.

She was seated, and tired, but she managed to get to her feet.

He waved a hand and looked at the Queen and the babe asleep on her breast. The Queen’s eyes were open—Blanche had a moment of unease at what she might have heard, but she smiled.

“I’m alive,” she said, in her normal voice. “Is that Blanche?”

Blanche curtsied.

“What are you doing here, Blanche?” she asked. “Never mind, my dear. May I have a cup of water?”

“Oh, your grace, I’m out of water,” Blanche said. Both of them were whispering. The baby stayed asleep.

“I’ll fetch water,” the Red Knight said. He looked odd. Like he’d been crying. Blanche thought he was the handsomest man, but his eyes were red and puffy like a little boy caught stealing a cake.

“Just show me,” Blanche said.

“I can fetch water,” he insisted. He took the big bucket from where it sat by the fire. In the flickering light, it was easy to misjudge distance, and he bumped into her hard.

“A thousand apologies, Mistress,” he said.

He went out.

Blanche was considering following him, but then the Queen would be alone, except for Sister Amicia who was, somehow, not quite human. Not directly with them. Blanche lacked a vocabulary to describe her, but she shone softly golden in the darkness.