The world returned with a jolt.

Disorientation edged towards panic briefly—everything felt wrong, everything looked and smelled wrong, the sounds outside were wrong—until memory snapped back into place.

Reality wasn’t much better than the panic had been.

Lying here in bed wasn’t going to find Leofeva or, for that matter, deal with any aspect of this mess.

With a groan, she dragged herself out of bed and stumbled over to the dressing table. There was water in the pitcher still; she washed her face, hoping it would help banish some of the lingering cobwebs. She wasn’t sure she’d really slept all that well, although she’d be able to function for the day. Maybe she could steal a little time later for a nap before dinner, despite how unthinkable that would be back in Rosebridge. It probably wouldn’t make much difference here.

She pulled off the shirt and gave the rest of herself a cursory wash.

It was rather nice not to have to shave, and getting clean felt like it took less work. On the other hand, everything still felt subtly askew about the relationship between herself and the world, things marginally the wrong size or strange against her skin and her uncalloused hands.

She picked up a clean length of linen, and hesitated. Winding it as a loincloth was the same process, but was it worth doing? Not everyone bothered, and she didn’t have anything dangling to support or protect during a long ride, and considering what had happened when she used the privy last night, it was going to be an issue trying to replace it every time she needed to remove it briefly.

Speaking of the privy, she really should move more and think less.

She dropped the length of linen back in the trunk and dressed quickly in the same chemise and orange dress she’d had on for dinner yesterday—twice having to pull her hair out of the back of her clothes as she put on each layer, which was going to get exasperating, and then make sure it didn’t catch in her belt. Could she get away with cutting it? Probably not, unfortunately. Hair as long as possible was an enduring trend for women, and hers seemed willing to be impractically long.

She hooked her fingers into the sandals and just took them with her down two flights of stairs at a quick trot, skirts gathered with both hands so they wouldn’t trip her, down to the privy. The urgency was annoying. She’d never had any reason to pay attention—did women not only have a different way of passing water, but need to do so more often? That would certainly be a good reason to skip the loincloth. Struggling with skirts and balance and all even more frequently than she’d expected in order to wrap and tie the thing sounded like a good way to make herself frustrated and miserable.

Finished and cleaned up, she left the privy, settling her skirts. She perched on one of the ornate seats in the reception room to lace her sandals into place, and discovered when she leaned down that she didn’t have her dress laced quite right, because it tightened uncomfortably around her and made it briefly hard to breathe. That was more urgent. She fumbled with it, muttering curses that a young woman was probably not supposed to know, and finally managed to get it close enough that she could bend forward to put on her sandals and still have both breath and blood flow while she did so. She’d have skipped the sandals, at least while indoors, but with no callouses at all, being safe felt, well, safer.

Nails tapped on the door in a rapid rhythm.

Aelfeva took a deep breath, and reminded herself that literally only a handful of people in all the world knew she was anything other than the cousin who had come to be with Leofeva.

She crossed the room and opened the door.

Teoda greeted her with her usual sunny smile; Ilduara was a step behind her to one side, and smiling as well. Both were dressed casually, in soft warm colours.

“Hi, Aelfeva! This is my sister. She wanted to come meet you. I know it’s early, but we wanted to find out whether there’s been any news about Leofeva.”

“Come in,” Aelfeva said, stepping back. “No, there hasn’t been anything, but I suppose the whole household is just getting up. Unless Richold has already been up since before dawn and out scouring the city.”

Teoda giggled. “I know it’s serious, but I could imagine him doing that. Possibly not the morning after spending the whole day on the road, though. Well, we’ll find her, so you can marry the one you want to marry and not Josceran Denisot in Leofeva’s place.”

“I’d prefer that. I won’t leave my kin to suffer, but it isn’t what I expected when I came to Blaecstan. Have you had breakfast?”

“Not yet. I’m afraid I was rather impatient. Oh dear, is your shoulder still sore? That looks like the same braid I did for you yesterday. Would you like help redoing it? We could go up to your room and do that right now, if you like.”

“Is it so messy it’s obvious? I’d be very grateful. It isn’t terribly painful unless I try to lift that arm too high.” She gestured towards the stairs, and went up them a step below Teoda, though turning so she could keep from excluding Ilduara trailing a couple of steps behind.

“My manners are atrocious. Ilduara, Aelfeva.”

Ilduara gave her a friendly smile. “You’ve made an impression on my sister. Anyone who didn’t know better would think she was coming over to see an old friend. I doubt it was entirely an excuse to see her betrothed.”

“Dara!” Teoda said. “I would never lie like that!”

“I didn’t really think you would,” Aelfeva said. “But no harm if it’s also a way to spend an extra moment or two with Richold. My... cousin is very charming, in a sweet and honest sort of way. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” What would she say, if her role were real? She wouldn’t know about ambivalent feelings, right? “I gather you’re also intended to marry in a few days?”

Ilduara’s smile didn’t disappear, but it did fade somewhat. “Yes, to Ferrand Denisot. Josceran’s younger brother, so I suppose you and I might get to know each other very well. We’re friends, at least, although I could never have foreseen myself marrying him. They’re both good men, and it’s a wealthy family—they own the mill in Rosebridge, which is a very modern and complex one, and they own a lot of the land that the Rosebridge Glaedwins don’t have any stake in.”

What else could she say that wouldn’t get into dangerous territory? “Including a claim on the bridge my ancestors built?”

They all went quiet up the second flight of stairs, up to Aelfeva’s room. Both visitors seemed to know exactly where they were going, but then, their residence was probably identical to this one, so that made sense. With the door closed, Teoda gestured to the armchair and picked up the comb from the table.

“The bridge is... complicated,” Ilduara said, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch her sister gently undo yesterday’s braid and begin to comb it out. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be in this situation. Yes, it does have the same rose design carved into it that your family uses, but there’s no Glaedwin land immediately adjoining it. The mill is, obviously, on the river, and it’s very close to the bridge. Our parents bought the land across the river from the mill, in order to expand the tavern into a proper inn. Both deeds actually list the bridge as part of the holding, and there’s an older document referring to the Glaedwins’ bridge, so it’s anyone’s guess who actually owns it.”

“Does it really matter? Shouldn’t the community simply maintain it as another section of public road?”

“That road has, in the past thirty years, been increasingly important for trade. Almost ten years ago, the bridge was declared to be a toll bridge, with a set amount of the total sent to the King quarterly, but that hasn’t been happening because no one can decide who’s responsible for doing so. It will mean more work, but it will also mean a share of the income, after the King’s and the share for maintenance and improvements. There’s nowhere else to cross the river for miles in either direction and it’s the fastest route to Blaecstan from the north-east.”

“No surprise the King is unhappy, then.”

“I understand why the King, or rather the Queen, is out of patience. I would just prefer that the solution did not involve forcing three marriages, leaving four out of six likely to be unhappy with it. It’s difficult to simply dissolve a marriage ordered by the Queen and blessed in Aelautha’s temple.” She shrugged. “I suppose we’ll all manage. Ferrand and I... we’ll stay friends, I hope. And Josceran isn’t a cruel or cold man, I can’t imagine him mistreating you. It’s very hard on you, though, being swept up in this without knowing any of us and with no knowledge of the history.” Was it just imagination, or did Ilduara look uncomfortable?

“I would certainly prefer not to marry Josceran Denisot,” Aelfeva said, with complete honesty. “While I’m sure he’s as worthy as his brother, I... well, he’s not the one I would choose to spend my life with.” At least, not in the context of marriage. She’d always expected that her friendship with him would be there to lean on for as long as they were both alive.

Ilduara flinched, though it was very slight and could easily have been missed—or mistaken? “Yes, I’m sure. And I’m sorry.”

“We’ll find Leofeva,” Teoda said. “And point out to her that if she runs away, she’s just leaving someone else in the same trap she escaped, which is a terrible thing to do. Someone interested in the healing arts shouldn’t be so irresponsible and callous.”

No, that was distinctly a tiny flinch. “She has reasons. Leofeva always does. To be fair, I doubt she expected her cousin to be drawn in.”

“There are other sorts of consequences she’s disregarding that are not unexpected!”

“I’m aware of them all, believe me. They are, after all, why I’m marrying Ferrand without a fuss.”

“This isn’t a black or white kind of situation,” Aelfeva said, and when Ilduara’s forehead furrowed, added, “It sounds like a complicated puzzle to find a solution for, I mean. There seem to be a lot of ways to look at it that are all valid from different perspectives. I’m not angry at Leofeva. Orders from the Queen leave few choices for anyone involved. I would definitely like to talk to her, though. My... my cousin I mean, not the Queen.”

“Of course.”

Knuckles rapped on the door. “Aelfeva? Sounds like you’re up and have company already. Breakfast in the dining room for three?”

“Four, please,” Aelfeva called back. “Thanks, Rich!”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Teoda added. “I’m almost done. Do you need help with anything else, Aelfeva? That limited mobility has to be frustrating, but I really don’t mind. Apparently there’s a bathhouse in the centre of this row of houses that everyone can use. We should pay that a visit after breakfast. If we go together, I’ll be able to help if you need extra hands.”

That was a rather alarming thought, although normally the prospect of a hot bath was a pleasant one. “I... yes, getting properly clean would be good, and I keep coming across little tasks I never thought twice about until I find that it hurts. For now, I think my hair is the only thing I didn’t feel ambitious enough to attempt. Thank you. I... I imagine I’ll have to meet Josceran soon, and I’d rather not look like I don’t know how to take care of myself.”

“Of course.” Teoda tied the orange ribbon around the end of her braid. “You have gorgeous hair. It might be fun to do something more elaborate than just a single simple braid, but not right now, obviously. All done. Breakfast?”