Thus bemused, I finally came to the doors of Kettricken’s chamber. I stood in the hall a moment, to recover my aplomb and compose my face. Suddenly the door across the hall flung open and Regal strode into me. His momentum jostled me aside, and before I could recover myself, he grandly offered, “It’s all right, Fitz. I scarcely expect an apology from one so bereaved as yourself.” He stood in the hallway, straightening his jerkin as the young men following him emerged from his chamber, tittering in amusement. He smiled ’round at them, and then leaned close to me to ask, in a quietly venomous voice, “Where will you suckle up now that the old whore Thyme is dead? Ah, well. I am sure you will find some other old woman to coddle you. Or are you come to wheedle up to a younger one now?” He dared to smile at me, before he wheeled on his heel and strode off in a fine flutter of sleeves, trailed by his three sycophants.

The insult to the Queen poisoned me into rage. It came with a suddenness such as I had never experienced. I felt my chest and throat swell with it. A terrible strength rushed through me; I know my upper lip lifted in a snarl. From afar I sensed, What? What is it? Kill it! Kill it! Kill it! I took a step, the next would have been a spring, and I know my teeth would have sunk into the place where throat meets shoulder.

But: “FitzChivalry,” said a voice, full of surprise.

Molly’s voice! I turned to her, my emotions wrenching from rage to delight at seeing her. But as swiftly she was turning aside, saying, “Beg pardon, my lord,” and brushing past me. Her eyes were down, her manner that of a servant.

“Molly?” I called, stepping after her. She paused. When she looked back at me, her face was empty of emotion, her voice neutral.

“Sir? Had you an errand for me?”

“An errand?” Of course. I glanced about us, but the corridor was empty. I took a step toward her, pitched my voice low for her ears only. “No. I’ve just missed you so. Molly, I—”

“This is not seemly, sir. I beg you to excuse me.” She turned, proudly, calmly, and walked away from me.

“What did I do?” I demanded, in angry consternation. I did not really expect an answer. But she paused. Her blue-clothed back was straight, her head erect under her tatted haircloth. She did not turn back to me, but said quietly, to the corridor, “Nothing. You did nothing at all, my lord. Absolutely nothing.”

“Molly!” I protested, but she turned the corner and was gone. I stood staring after her. After a moment I realized I was making a sound somewhere between a whine and a growl.

Let us go hunting instead.

Perhaps, I found myself agreeing, that would be the best thing. To go hunting, to kill, to eat, to sleep. And to do no more than that.

Why not now?

I don’t really know.

I composed myself and knocked at Kettricken’s door. It was opened by little Rosemary, who dimpled a smile at me as she invited me in. Once within, Molly’s errand here was evident. Kettricken was holding a fat green candle under her nose. On the table were several others. “Bayberry,” I observed.

Kettricken looked up with a smile. “FitzChivalry. Welcome. Come in and be seated. May I offer you food? Wine?”

I stood looking at her. A sea change. I felt her strength, knew she stood in the center of herself. She was dressed in a soft gray tunic and leggings. Her hair was dressed in her customary way. Her jewelry was simple, a single necklace of green and blue stone beads. But this was not the woman I had brought back to the Keep a few days ago. That woman had been distressed, angry, hurt, and confused. This Kettricken welled serenity.

“My queen,” I began hesitantly.

“Kettricken,” she corrected me calmly. She moved about the room, setting some of the candles on shelves. It was almost a challenge in that she did not say more.

I came farther into her sitting room. She and Rosemary were the only occupants. Verity had once complained to me that her chambers had the precision of a military encampment. It had not been an exaggeration. The simple furnishings were spotlessly clean. The heavy tapestries and rugs that furnished most of Buckkeep were missing here. Simple mats of straw were on the floor, and frames supported parchment screens painted with delicate sprays of flowers and trees. There was no clutter at all. In this room, all was finished and put away, or not yet begun. That is the only way I can describe the stillness I felt there.

I had come in a roil of conflicting emotions. Now I stood still and silent, my breathing steadying and my heart calming. One corner of the chamber had been turned into an alcove walled with the parchment screens. Here there was a rug of green wool on the floor, and low padded benches such as I had seen in the mountains. Kettricken placed the green bayberry candle behind one of the screens. She kindled it with a flame from the hearth. The dancing candlelight behind the screen gave the life and warmth of a sunrise to the painted scene. Kettricken walked around to sit on one of the low benches within the alcove. She indicated the bench opposite hers. “Will you join me?”