That didn’t stop her heart from twisting each time one of those memories faded. Light! If she couldn’t be with Gaidal this time around, couldn’t she at least remember him? It was as if the Pattern didn’t know what to do with her. She’d been forced into this life, shoving other threads aside, taking an unexpected place. The Pattern was trying to weave her in. What would happen when all of the memories faded? Would she remember waking up as an adult with no history? The thought terrified her as no battlefield ever had.

She nodded to one of her Guardswomen, Kaila Bent, who passed by the back row of the makeshift theater and saluted.

“Well?” Birgitte asked, stepping around the corner to speak with Kaila.

“Nothing to report,” Kaila said. “All is well.” She was a lanky firehaired woman, and had taken very easily to wearing the trousers and coat of a Guardswoman. “Or, all is as well as it could be while having to suffer through The Death of Princess Walishen.”

“Stop complaining,” Birgitte said, suppressing a wince as the diva—so the players called her—began a particularly shrill aria—so they called a song by yourself. Why did the players need so many new names for things? “You could be out patrolling in the rain.”

“I could?” Kaila asked, sounding eager. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? Maybe I’ll get struck by lightning. That might be preferable.”

Birgitte snorted. “Get back to your rounds.”

Kaila saluted and left. Birgitte tuned back into the theater, leaning against the pillar. Perhaps she should have brought some wax to stuff in her ears. She glanced over at Elayne. The Queen sat with a calm demeanor, watching the play. At times, Birgitte felt more like a nursemaid than a bodyguard. How did you protect a woman who seemed, at times, so determined to see herself dead?

And yet, Elayne was also so very capable. Like tonight; she’d somehow convinced her most bitter rival to attend this play. That was Ellorien sitting over in the eastern row; the woman’s last parting from the palace had been so bitter that Birgitte hadn’t expected her to return unless she was in chains. Yet here she was. It whispered of a political maneuver by Elayne that was thirteen steps more subtle than Birgitte had a mind for.

She shook her head. Elayne was a queen. Volatility and all. She’d be good for Andor. Assuming Birgitte could keep that golden-haired head from being lopped off its neck.

After some time suffering through the singing, Kaila approached again. Birgitte stood up straight, curious at the woman’s quick pace. “What?” she asked quietly.

“You looked bored,” Kaila whispered, “so I thought I’d bring this to you. Disturbance at the Plum Gate.” That was the southeastern entrance to the palace grounds. “Someone tried to sneak through.”

“Another beggar looking for scraps? Or a spy for one of the lordlings, hoping to listen in?”

“I don’t know,” Kaila said. “I heard the news thirdhand from Calison as we passed on patrol. He said the Guardsmen have the intruder in custody at the gate.”