I damned the bravado that had earlier let me make Regal aware of how much stronger I had grown. I had been a fool to tempt him to attack me; I should have known he would find a less obvious target. In my room, I changed hastily into fresh clothing. Then I left my chamber, climbed the stairs, and went straight to Molly’s bedchamber. I tapped lightly on the door.

No answer. I did not tap louder. It lacked but an hour or two until dawn; most of the Keep was exhausted, abed. Still, I had no desire to rouse the wrong person to see me at Molly’s door. Yet I had to know.

Her door was latched, but it was a simple one. I slipped it in a matter of seconds and made note to myself that she would have a better one before tomorrow night. Soft as shadow, I entered her room and drew the door closed behind me.

A fire had burned low in the hearth. Its lingering embers cast an uncertain haze of light. I stood still a moment, letting my eyes adjust, then I moved carefully into the room, staying away from the hearth light. I could hear the steady sleep rhythm of Molly’s breath from her bed. It should have been enough for me. But I teased myself that she might be fevered and sinking even now into a death sleep from poison. I promised myself that I would do no more than touch her pillow, just to see if skin was fevered or normal. No more than that. I drifted to the bedside.

Beside the bed I stood motionless. I could just make out her shape under the covers in the dim light. She smelled heathery and warm and sweet. Healthy. No feverish poison victim slept here. I knew I should go. “Sleep well,” I breathed.

Silently she sprang up at me. The ember light ran red along the blade in her hand. “Molly!” I cried as I parried her knife hand aside with the back of my forearm. She froze, her other hand drawn back in a fist, and for an instant all in the room was silent and motionless. Then: “Newboy!” she hissed furiously, and punched me in the belly with her left hand. As I doubled over, gasping for air, she rolled from the bed. “You idiot! You frightened me to death! What do you think you’re about, rattling at my latch and sneaking about in my room! I should call the Keep guardsmen to put you out!”

“No!” I begged as she threw wood on the fire, and then kindled a candle at it. “Please. I’ll go. I meant no harm or offense. I just wanted to be sure you were all right.”

“Well, I’m not!” she stormed in a whisper. Her hair was confined for the night into two thick braids, reminding me sharply of the little girl I had met so long ago. A girl no longer. She caught me staring at her. She threw a heavier robe about her shoulders and belted it at her waist. “I’m a shaking wreck! I shan’t sleep another wink tonight! You’ve been drinking, haven’t you? Are you drunk, then? What do you want?”

She advanced on me with the candle as if it were a weapon. “No,” I assured her. I drew myself upright and tugged my shirt straight. “I promise you, I’m not drunk. And truly, I had no bad intentions. But … something happened tonight, something that made me worry that something bad might happen to you, so I thought I had best come and make sure you were all right, but I knew Patience would not approve, and I certainly didn’t want to go waking up the whole Keep, so I thought I would just slip in and—”

“Newboy. You’re babbling,” she informed me icily.

It was true. “I’m sorry,” I said again, and sat down on the corner of the bed.

“Don’t get comfortable,” she warned me. “You were just leaving. Alone, or with the Keep guards. Your choice.”

“I’ll go,” I promised, standing hastily. “I just wanted to be sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine,” she said testily. “Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m as fine tonight as I was last night, as I have been for the last thirty nights. On none of them were you inspired to come and inspect my health. So why tonight?”

I took a breath. “Because on some nights threats are more obvious than others. Bad things happen, that make me take stock of what worse things could happen. On some nights, it is not the healthiest thing to be the beloved of a bastard.”

The lines of her mouth went as flat as her voice as she asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

I took a breath, determined that I would be as honest with her as I was able. “I cannot tell you what happened. Only that it made me believe you might be in danger. You will have to trust—”

“That isn’t the part I meant. What do you mean, beloved of a bastard? How do you dare to call me that?” Her eyes were bright with anger.

I swear that my heart thudded to a halt in my chest. The cold of death swept through me. “It is true, I have no right,” I said haltingly. “But neither is there any way I could stop caring for you. And whether or not I have the right to name you my beloved would not deter those who might seek to injure me by striking at you. How can I say I love you so much that I wish I did not love you, or at least could refrain from showing that I loved you, because my love puts you in such danger, and have those words be true?” Stiffly, I turned to go.