Something in my face must have given me away. She smiled delightedly and held her doggy closer. “I’ll do as you suggest, dog boy. But for yourself? Is there nothing you’d ask as reward?”

She thought I’d ask for a coin or ring or even a position with her household. Instead, as steadily as I could, I looked at her and said, “Please, Lady Grace. I ask that you ask your lord to man Watch Island’s tower with the best of his men, to put an end to the strife between Rippon and Shoaks Duchies.”

“What?”

That single-word question told me volumes about her. The accent and inflection hadn’t been learned as Lady Grace.

“Ask your lord to man his towers well. Please.”

“Why does a dog boy care about such things?”

Her question was too blunt. Wherever Kelvar had found her, she hadn’t been highborn, or wealthy before this. Her delight when I recognized her, the way she had brought her dog down to the familiar comfort of a kitchen, by herself, wrapped in her blanket, told of a common girl elevated too quickly and too far above her previous station. She was lonely, and uncertain, and uneducated as to what was expected of her. Worse, she knew that she was ignorant, and that knowledge ate at her and soured her pleasures with fear. If she did not learn how to be a duchess before her youth and beauty faded, only years of loneliness and ridicule could await her. She needed a mentor, someone secret, like Chade. She needed the advice I could give her, right now. But I had to go carefully, for she would not accept advice from a dog boy. Only a common girl might do that, and the only thing she knew about herself right now was that she was no longer a common girl, but a duchess.

“I had a dream,” I said, suddenly inspired. “So clear. Like a vision. Or a warning. It woke me and I felt I must come to the kitchen.” I let my eyes unfocus. Her eyes went wide. I had her. “I dreamed of a woman, who spoke wise words and turned three strong men into a united wall that the Red-Ship Raiders could not breach. She stood before them, and jewels were in her hands, and she said, “Let the watchtowers shine brighter than the gems in these rings. Let the vigilant soldiers who man them encircle our coast as these pearls used to encircle my neck. Let the keeps be strengthened anew against those who threaten our people. For I would be glad to walk plain in the sight of both King and commoner, and let the defenses that guard our people become the jewels of our land.’ And the King and his dukes were astounded at her wise heart and noble ways. But her people loved her best of all, for they knew she loved them better than gold or silver.”

It was awkward, not near as cleverly spoken as I had hoped to make it. But it caught her fancy. I could see her imagining herself standing straight and noble before the King-in-Waiting and astonishing him with her sacrifice. I sensed in her the burning desire to distinguish herself, to be spoken of admiringly by the people she had come from. Perhaps she had once been a milkmaid or a kitchen wench, and was still perceived as such by those who knew her. This would show them she was now a duchess in more than name. Lord Shemshy and his entourage would carry word of her deed back to Shoaks Duchy. Minstrels would celebrate her words in song. And her husband for once would be surprised by her. Let him see her as someone who cared for the land and folk, rather than the pretty little thing he had snared with his title. Almost I could see the thoughts parade through her mind. Her eyes had gone distant and she wore an abstract smile.

“Good night, dog boy,” she said softly, and glided from the kitchen, her dog cuddled against her breast. She wore the blanket around her shoulders as if it were a cloak of ermine. She would play her role tomorrow very well. I grinned suddenly, wondering if I had accomplished my mission without poison. Not that I had really investigated whether or not Kelvar was guilty of treason; but I had a feeling that I had chopped the root of the problem. I was willing to bet that the watchtowers would be well manned before the week was out.

I made my way back up to my bed. I had pilfered a loaf of fresh bread from the kitchen and this I offered to the guards who readmitted me to Verity’s bedchamber. In some distant part of Bayguard someone brayed out the hour. I didn’t pay much attention. I burrowed back into my bedding, my belly satisfied and my spirit anticipating the spectacle that Lady Grace would present tomorrow. As I dozed off I was wagering with myself that she would wear something straight and simple and white, and that her hair would be unbound.

I never got to find out. It seemed but moments later that I was shaken awake. I opened my eyes to find Charim crouched over me. A dim light from a lit candle made elongated shadows on the chamber walls. “Wake up, Fitz,” he whispered hoarsely. “A runner’s come to the keep, from Lady Thyme. She requires you immediately. Your horse is being made ready.”