It seemed that the queen felt a measure of gratitude to Thierry. She decided to heed the seer’s words. It appeared she knew Colle very well. It was all astonishing, Silvy thought. And happening so fast! She watched, listened. She stopped trembling at some point.

Marina di Seressa also agreed to go west. It was unclear why, or why she was wanted, or how much choice she’d had once the queen asked her to do so. Had to do with representing the crown, making the court a presence in whatever would come.

Silvy had needed to go back and talk to Eudes. Which she did.

On the road the first day she learned that the other woman’s family home (her husband’s family) lay near to where Thierry had evidently gone. Marina di Seressa said she had urged him to go in that direction when he’d had to leave Orane, and had suggested where he might stay for a time. But was he there, or somewhere else against his will, now? Whichever was true, he was in danger, if Gauvard Colle’s visions could be trusted.

They were acting as if that was so. Throwing their own lives into chaos, and not just the chaos of a carriage on bad roads. Gauvard’s nephew, one of the senior serjeants, was among those escorting them. A horse, Silvy thought, would have been easier. She loved horses. Had never ridden one. Just had those dreams of doing so. An escape? Freedom?

There was no such thing as freedom, she still tended to think, especially for a woman.

—

“Why are you doing this?” Marina di Seressa asked her abruptly.

Second day, sun emerging after morning rain, clouds skittering. Silvy had been looking out the window. She still didn’t know what she thought of this woman. She didn’t like the well-born sort who dropped into a tavern for idle amusement—a taste of danger—and then retreated to their silks and soft beds.

Silvy had wanted to ask her that same question, earlier. Had felt too cautious. Now the tall, poised woman sitting opposite in the carriage had done it first. Before that, they’d talked of nothing more consequential than the state of the roads, and the weather, which was mild. Fully springtime now.

She hesitated. She ought to have had an answer ready, she thought. The other woman added, casually, “Is he a lover of yours?”

If you worked in a tavern in Orane—were actually a part-owner of one, if only to a small degree—you weren’t easily discomfited by such questions. That helped.

Silvy looked at the other woman. “And you are entitled to ask this, why?”

Marina di Seressa smiled. Also, Silvy thought, not easily made uncomfortable. “I’m trying to understand what we are doing. Why Gauvard summoned you. I truly don’t care who your lovers are.”

“You know him? Gauvard Colle?” Silvy parried.