“I have your sword, Gultin,” she said, realizing too late that it came out as a motherly coo. “It’s in the other room. I’m sure Nana will give it to you if you ask.”

“That’s sweet.” He blinked once, twice, and then turned toward the ceiling.

A powerful urge to leave struck her, and she grabbed on to James’s hand on the way to the door. He didn’t move.

“Gultin.” James sniffled. “You know I fancied you at the Academy.”

Gultin’s face went still, his eyes wide with wonder. He sat forward slowly, dreamlike. “You did?”

“I wanted t-to—” James’s breath hitched. “To take you walking. But I didn’t.”

“I fancied you too. Your eyes are very green.”

“Will you come with us? Please?”

Gultin leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

“I won’t, James. But you’ve given me a very nice dream.”

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

It was morning, which meant Mama was about to send Patience out for the day. She hated mornings, always shutting her eyes against the sun and wriggling down under the thin blanket, bits of hay from her under-stuffed mattress poking through the old, threadbare sheet to scrape at her skin. If only she could wait a few moments, stay in the relative warmth of their little house. This season, mornings were cool and drizzly more often than they weren’t. Evenings were worse, the sky heavy with the sort of soft, cold dampness that could barely call itself snow. She wasn’t ready to leave. Besides, her left shoe had a big hole and she hadn’t had socks in months.

“I’m having men over, Patience. For work.” Mama tied herself into a new frock, miraculously intact and free of patches.  “Make yourself busy. Come back an hour after the sun has set.”

Patience flopped out of bed and tugged at her hair, an unruly, tangled mess of mats and knots. She pouted. “What work do you do for them, Mama? Why can’t I be home? I’ll be quiet.”

“No,” Mama snapped. “It is not for little girls. Now go.”

“But the other kids. They don’t like me, Mama.” Patience scrubbed at her snotty nose. From Hunter’s season through the dawn of Rider’s, it never stopped running. “They hit me.”

Mama closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What have I said about that, Patience?”

“Hit them back or run. But—”

“No buts. Go.” And with that, Mama slammed the door, leaving Patience no choice but to occupy herself until dark.

As luck would have it, that day turned out to be rather pleasant, despite the damp and the cold. Patience managed to evade the other children, finding solace with the butcher at his stall at the covered market. On slow days he allowed her to help him with his meats.