She shut the door very firmly behind herself. I heard the thump, but even so I waited some minutes, to be completely certain that the Fool was alone. I eased the door open silently, but the Fool’s preternatural awareness served him well. “There you are,” he exclaimed with a sigh of relief as I entered. “I was beginning to worry about you.” Then he looked more closely at me and a smile lit up his face. “The Prince’s first lesson must have gone very well.”

“The Prince chose not to attend his first lesson. And I am sorry to have put you out. I didn’t think to arrange for Lord Golden’s breakfast.”

He made a disparaging noise. “I assure you, the last thing I would expect is that you would be a competent servant. I’m perfectly capable of arranging my own breakfast. It is required, however, that I raise a suitable fuss when I am forced to waylay a page for it. I’ve muttered and complained enough now that I can add a boy to my staff without exciting any comment.” He poured himself another cup of tea, sipped it and made a face. “Cold.” He gestured at the remains of the repast. “Hungry?”

“No. I ate with Kettricken.”

He nodded, unsurprised. “The Prince sent me a message this morning. It now makes sense to me. He wrote, ‘I was saddened to see that your injury prevented you from joining in the dancing at my betrothal festivities. Well do I know how frustrating it is when an unexpected inconvenience denies you a pleasure long anticipated. I heartily hope that you are soon able to resume your favorite activities.’ ”

I nodded, somewhat pleased. “Subtle, yet it conveys it. Our prince is becoming more sophisticated.”

“He has his father’s wit,” he agreed, but when I glanced at him sharply, his expression was mild and benign. He continued. “You have another message as well. From Laurel.”

“Yes. I overheard it.”

“I thought you might have.”

I shook my head. “That one both puzzles and alarms me. From the way she spoke, I don’t think this meeting has anything to do with my horse. Still, I’ll meet her at noon and see what it is about. Then I’d like to go down to Buckkeep Town, to see Hap, and to apologize to Jinna.”

He lifted a pale eyebrow.

“I had said I would come by last night, to talk to Hap. As you know, I went to the betrothal festivities with you instead.”

He picked up a tiny nosegay of white flowers from his breakfast tray and sniffed it thoughtfully. “So many people, all wanting a bit of your time.”

I sighed. “It is hard for me. I don’t quite know how to manage it. I’d grown used to my solitary life, with only Nighteyes and Hap making claims on me. I don’t think I’m handling this very well. I can’t imagine how Chade juggled all his tasks for so many years.”

He smiled. “He’s a spider. A web weaver, with lines stringing out in all directions. He sits at the center and interprets each tug.”

I smiled with him. “Accurate. Not flattering, but accurate.”

He cocked his head at me suddenly. “It was Kettricken, then, wasn’t it? Not Chade.”

“I don’t understand.”

He looked down at his hands, twiddling the little bouquet. “There’s a change in you. Your shoulders are squared again. Your eyes focus on me when I talk to you. I don’t feel as if I should glance over my shoulder to see if a ghost is there.” He set the flowers down carefully on the table. “Someone has lifted a part of your burden.”

“Kettricken,” I agreed with him after a moment. I cleared my throat. “She was closer to Nighteyes than I realized. She mourns him, too.”

“As do I.”

I thought about my next words before I said them. I wondered if they were necessary, feared that they might hurt him. But I spoke them. “In a different way. Kettricken mourns Nighteyes as I do, for himself, and for what he was to her. You . . .” I faltered, unsure how to put it.

“I loved him through you. Our link was how he became real to me. So, in a sense, I do not mourn Nighteyes as you do. I grieve for your grief.”

“You have always been better with words than I am.”

“Yes,” he agreed. Then he sighed and crossed his arms on his chest. “Well. I am glad that someone could help you. Even as I envy Kettricken.”

That made no sense. “You envy her, that she mourns?”

“I envy her, that she could comfort you.” Then, before I could even think of any reply, he added briskly, “I’ll leave it to you to clear the dishes away to the kitchen. Take care to be a bit surly when you return them, as if your master had just harshly rebuked you. Then you may be off to Laurel and Buckkeep Town. I plan to spend a quiet day today, in my own pursuits. I’ve let it out that my ankle pains me and that I wish to rest, without visitors. Later this afternoon, I am invited to gaming with the Queen’s favored. So if you do not find me here, look for me there. Will you be back in time to help me limp down to dinner?”