Rafe had declared that he was staying home in Gallantrybanks with Crisiant and their new little son. The occasional engagement at the Kiral Kellari or the Downstreet or the Keymarker would be fine, but no travel to the country houses of the nobility. None. Crisiant and Bram were his priorities, and nobody could blame him.
Second, Jeska agreed wholeheartedly with Rafe about staying strictly in Gallantrybanks, for he and Kazie had been married only a few months and he wanted as much time with her as possible before Touchstone left for Trials and the Royal.
Third, Cade had gone into yet another of his sulks and nobody wanted to be around him anyways.
Lastly, Fairwalk, far from despairing at the decrease in Touchstone’s income, had decided that to deprive the city and the nobility of performances for a while would only increase the demand later this year.
“And besides that—do forgive me for mentioning it—but there’s just the slightest hint of your getting stale. Not that you’re not as good as ever, but—”
Before Cade or Mieka or Jeska could protest, Rafe nodded agreement with Fairwalk. “I’m sick of feeling that it’s naught but a job of work,” he said. “Like a being bricklayer or a hack driver. Good at the craft, no mistakes and no accidents—but nothing to point to with pride anymore.”
Cade scowled and muttered, “You’re just browned off because I haven’t done up your children’s play yet.”
“You’ll get to it when you get to it,” Rafe replied. “Bram’s not old enough yet to enjoy it, anyways. But Kearney’s right, and we all of us know it. We’ve gone flat. It’s habit, like we were back in littleschool reciting the multiplication tables. The only challenge we’ve had in the last year was that play of yours, Cayden, and—”
“Don’t you fucking
dare
say it’s my fault!”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Lord Fairwalk soothed. “People just weren’t prepared for it, don’t you see. One day they will be, and it will be a triumph.”
“So we’ll be taking a break, then?” Jeska asked. “From each other, as well as the work?”
“Suits me down to the ground,” Cade snapped. “Leaves me in peace and quiet to write.”
Thus Mieka had left his daughter in his own mother’s care at Wistly, given his mother-in-law enough money to go and do whatever she liked for a month, and taken his wife to Lilyleaf. He’d originally thought she might like to spend the time at Frimham. Jinsie had disabused him of this notion the instant he mentioned it.
“Amongst all the people who knew her when she was scrabbling for a living? Once again, brother darling, you provide living proof that there ought to be laws against staggering stupidity.”
“I thought she might want to see her old friends.”
“And swan about with you on her arm, saying, ‘Look at my adorable famous rich husband!’ without actually having to say it out loud? Mayhap. But she’d also know they’d be sneering and gossiping behind her back. You’re a
theater
player, remember!”
He was just as glad she took the sting out of it with a grin. “Oh, all right, then. Lilyleaf, I suppose.”
Jinsie nodded her approval. “Nobody knows her there, and she can play the Great Lady to her heart’s content.”
No denying the spite tingeing his sister’s voice—and no grin this time—but he had to admit she was right. So to Lilyleaf they went, and Mieka’s reward for a month of tedium was a wonderful peace in his household. Well, tedium punctuated almost every night and quite a few mornings and afternoons with spectacular bed-sport. He had the distinct impression that Croodle knew all about that, too.
The renewal of their commitment to each other had been his wife’s idea. One night she arranged with Croodle to give them an intimate supper upstairs in their sitting room, with flowers and candles and a new silk-and-lace bedrobe that matched her iris-blue eyes, and she’d given him the heavy silver
Second, Jeska agreed wholeheartedly with Rafe about staying strictly in Gallantrybanks, for he and Kazie had been married only a few months and he wanted as much time with her as possible before Touchstone left for Trials and the Royal.
Third, Cade had gone into yet another of his sulks and nobody wanted to be around him anyways.
Lastly, Fairwalk, far from despairing at the decrease in Touchstone’s income, had decided that to deprive the city and the nobility of performances for a while would only increase the demand later this year.
“And besides that—do forgive me for mentioning it—but there’s just the slightest hint of your getting stale. Not that you’re not as good as ever, but—”
Before Cade or Mieka or Jeska could protest, Rafe nodded agreement with Fairwalk. “I’m sick of feeling that it’s naught but a job of work,” he said. “Like a being bricklayer or a hack driver. Good at the craft, no mistakes and no accidents—but nothing to point to with pride anymore.”
Cade scowled and muttered, “You’re just browned off because I haven’t done up your children’s play yet.”
“You’ll get to it when you get to it,” Rafe replied. “Bram’s not old enough yet to enjoy it, anyways. But Kearney’s right, and we all of us know it. We’ve gone flat. It’s habit, like we were back in littleschool reciting the multiplication tables. The only challenge we’ve had in the last year was that play of yours, Cayden, and—”
“Don’t you fucking
dare
say it’s my fault!”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Lord Fairwalk soothed. “People just weren’t prepared for it, don’t you see. One day they will be, and it will be a triumph.”
“So we’ll be taking a break, then?” Jeska asked. “From each other, as well as the work?”
“Suits me down to the ground,” Cade snapped. “Leaves me in peace and quiet to write.”
Thus Mieka had left his daughter in his own mother’s care at Wistly, given his mother-in-law enough money to go and do whatever she liked for a month, and taken his wife to Lilyleaf. He’d originally thought she might like to spend the time at Frimham. Jinsie had disabused him of this notion the instant he mentioned it.
“Amongst all the people who knew her when she was scrabbling for a living? Once again, brother darling, you provide living proof that there ought to be laws against staggering stupidity.”
“I thought she might want to see her old friends.”
“And swan about with you on her arm, saying, ‘Look at my adorable famous rich husband!’ without actually having to say it out loud? Mayhap. But she’d also know they’d be sneering and gossiping behind her back. You’re a
theater
player, remember!”
He was just as glad she took the sting out of it with a grin. “Oh, all right, then. Lilyleaf, I suppose.”
Jinsie nodded her approval. “Nobody knows her there, and she can play the Great Lady to her heart’s content.”
No denying the spite tingeing his sister’s voice—and no grin this time—but he had to admit she was right. So to Lilyleaf they went, and Mieka’s reward for a month of tedium was a wonderful peace in his household. Well, tedium punctuated almost every night and quite a few mornings and afternoons with spectacular bed-sport. He had the distinct impression that Croodle knew all about that, too.
The renewal of their commitment to each other had been his wife’s idea. One night she arranged with Croodle to give them an intimate supper upstairs in their sitting room, with flowers and candles and a new silk-and-lace bedrobe that matched her iris-blue eyes, and she’d given him the heavy silver
Similar Books
