Page 41 of Claiming the Tower (Council Mysteries #1)

Later that evening

B ess was certain that whatever was going on upstairs was more difficult than waiting was.

But she was not, when it came down to it, certain how to measure one against the other.

Once the Challengers had gone into the depths of the keep, there had been quiet for a few minutes.

Servants or staff— Bess wasn’t sure how to categorise them, other than as being highly competent— came around with drinks and light foods.

As they’d been warned, everyone would probably be waiting at least an hour or two, perhaps longer.

Marcus leaned forward. “I’m glad we get a further chance to talk, Mistress Marley.”

“Oh, Bess, please.” Bess said it immediately, ignoring the sharp look from Hereswith’s brothers. “Hereswith has spoken so highly of you.”

“Do call me Marcus, then. She flatters. Mind, that’s part of her job and one of her highly developed skills. And you know William, of course.” He gestured at the man next to him, who nodded amiably.

“She said you were clear she should make the Challenge,” Bess replied. “Which implies you think well of her skills.”

“Oh, yes.” Marcus glanced up at the head of the room.

“Hereswith was a little worried about the protocol of this. How things are done matters to her, a great deal. The dance of it, how to make it flow and be elegant rather than ungainly. But I have no doubts about her— mmm.” He paused, and added to Hereswith’s father, “Sir, how would you describe how Hereswith moves in the world?”

Master Rowan— Bess would be formal here, in public, and especially with his sons right there, even inside her head— looked up.

“She knows her own skills. That’s rare. But it’s also a lever to move the world, don’t you think?

She does not fuss about what isn’t hers.

Mind, Hereswith has had an increasingly broad remit, the last few years.

I did not think she’d be so involved in diplomatic work when she was little. ”

“Oh, I had a hint.” That was Wulfred. He was amiable as he told a story about going up to the nursery at one point to find Hereswith a row of dolls and toys.

She’d been instructing them in the proper form for a dinner party and what conversation to make.

That got into other stories of the family, and Bess listened to them attentively.

None were actually that surprising, given what she already knew, but they helped reassure her she was not missing some thread in the family history.

That was the thing about the Rowans. They were surprisingly consistent in the face they showed the world.

That made her think a lot more about Hereswith, actually.

As the time wound on, their drinks and plates were refilled.

Finally, about an hour in, Edric Fitzroy came down.

He looked oddly freshly scrubbed, as if he’d had an energetic bout with soap and water.

His clothes were in good repair, but he was limping slightly on one foot as he walked down the centre aisle of the hall to quietly rejoin his family.

The other conversations died down for a moment, before Marcus asked their little circle, “Do they tell us when someone’s been successful?

If there are still others in the process? ”

Bess could chime in here. “From what Hereswith learned, everyone comes out in their own time. If someone is successful, they’re taken aside to a room to wait until everyone has come out.

Tidier that way. Though I’m sure uncomfortable for those who were not successful.

” That carried them off into another conversation, pausing only when Euphremia Sibley came out.

She was walking tightly, as if she were afraid her clothing would come apart if she breathed wrong.

Another half hour, and Antinous Groves came out.

He was, in fact, injured in some way. His arm was wrapped up in a sling, his cape covering part of it.

He looked rather white around the edges, and she thought he was trying hard to convince his family it was nothing significant.

It took Bess a moment to realise what that meant, and she found herself staring at Marcus, who obviously was having the same thought. “Hereswith.”

“Hereswith.” He echoed her, then cleared his throat. “Sir, do you know what the steps are next? Or Bess, perhaps you do?”

“An announcement and formal welcome. But that assumes—” Bess was brought back to earth. “It could be she’s just the last one out. Sometimes no one is successful, I gather.”

“Hundreds of years of history. I suppose there are a number of outcomes.” Marcus shook his head. “We’ll wait, then.”

It was not as long as it might be, fortunately.

Perhaps fifteen minutes later, they could see the various members of the Council filtering in to take up places across the top of the Great Hall.

All except for Council Head Merriweather, Blanch Ventry, and one other, she thought.

It would be rude to count them off on her fingers, she was sure.

A minute or two after the last person moved into place, the double doors at the head of the hall opened.

Beside her, Marcus murmured, “Nicely coordinated.”

Council Head Merriweather took a staff, bringing it down to ring against the floor three times.

His voice amplified with a charm, he announced, “We are pleased to welcome Magistra Hereswith Rowan as the newest member of our number. May the magic of Albion flourish, with the skills and knowledge she brings to our company.”

They proceeded through a brief welcome— Hereswith was greeted by each of the Council before each of the other Challengers went up to give her some brief greeting.

Somewhat grudging, in at least one case— Fitzroy was none too pleased about the outcome.

Then the other parties began to file out, as Hereswith, Blanch Ventry, and Council Head Merriweather came toward Bess’s group.

Hereswith’s father pushed himself to stand, each of his sons reaching automatically to offer an arm to steady him.

As soon as Hereswith got close enough, she embraced him, a definite show of emotion that Bess suspected was not the ordinary thing.

She murmured something in his ear, then helped him to sit again, before beaming.

Beside her, Magistra Ventry was being patient enough.

Now, though, she spoke. “There will be an announcement in the morning papers, and a longer piece about the event in the evening paper. Someone from the Trellech Moon will want to speak to you. Tomorrow is best, if you’re available, the day after otherwise.

Make them come to you. It doesn’t do for the papers to get the idea we’re at their beck and call. ”

Hereswith ducked her chin. “I provided a copy of my vita to Council Head— pardon— Gervase.” She caught herself, obviously shifting into a new mode. “But yes, I’ll see about arranging tomorrow.” Bess made a note of that, because that much she could be a help with.

“Good. We’ll find a time for you to be introduced to the private areas of the Keep. There will be a meeting next Wednesday with all our number. You will need a little time to wrap up your commitments to the Ministry, as we discussed.”

Hereswith looked up at that. “You need not worry, Blanch, that I will neglect tidying my commitments.” It was sharper than Bess would have dared, but Magistra Ventry just laughed, looking pleased.

Council Head Merriweather snorted, also looking more amused than otherwise.

“Some people need the reminder that taking on a new role means letting go of the old. I look forward to getting to know you, Hereswith. For now, take your rest, and we will talk in the coming days.” He made a slight bow— courtesy, since he certainly ranked everyone there by any proper scale of precedence.

Then he offered his arm to Magistra Ventry.

They withdrew, and Hereswith was left with her family.

“I would like to go home, please. I am rather exhausted.” Her brothers came forward to kiss her cheek, then her sisters-in-law, then Marcus and William.

Her nephew had seemed particularly pleased, and her niece suddenly a hair shy.

There were comments about a celebratory gathering on the Saturday, when everything had settled a little and they could get invitations out.

There was a little procession out to the portal.

Hereswith’s father went through first, his sons going along to get him to the other side, then Hereswith, then Bess.

By the time Bess came out of the portal, Hereswith was standing there, her father and his valet having gone ahead. Bess automatically stepped to one side, then said, “What would help right now?”

“Could you see about some chocolate? I want a bath, if you’d send Mary up. And then—” Her eyes closed and she wavered a little on her feet. “I’m exhausted.” That she repeated the phrase underlined it. That was not something Hereswith did often.

“Let us get you inside, then, and in your own rooms.” Mary, thankfully, was waiting right inside, so Bess could send her to run the bath, another of the maids to see about chocolate, and she herself could guide Hereswith upstairs.

By the time they’d reached the second floor, and got Hereswith’s gown and all the underlayers off, the bath had filled, and Bess got Hereswith into it.

She left Mary to tidy up the clothing to be dealt with later.

Bess went down to the kitchens where Cook had already seen to a plate of food to go with the chocolate.

Hereswith re-emerged from the bath perhaps twenty minutes later, bundled up in a dressing gown, and it was only then she sent Mary off. Bess got her into bed, with a tray table across her lap for the food and chocolate, then lifted her own mug. “Congratulations.”

“It’s going to change everything.” Hereswith’s voice was quiet. “And I don’t know how.”

“Is that a problem?” Bess kept her voice even.

Hereswith let out a long breath. “No? I don’t think so? Not us. I mean. Not us in a bad way? Probably? I’m not making sense.”

“You have just done the sort of exceedingly difficult thing that people never have words for, so I’m not surprised.” Bess pointed it out bluntly, and she was pleased that Hereswith responded with a smile and half a laugh. “And now you’re exhausted. What do you need right now?”

“Will you stay tonight? Here? I don’t care what Mary sees in the morning.”

“You might care in the morning,” Bess pointed out. “But I’ll stay at least until you’re asleep.”

“The thing about being on the Council,” Hereswith said it carefully, “is that it is a fresh set of rules? It looks like the same map, and it isn’t.

It’s going to take me time to figure that out.

But they can’t— they can’t take it away from me.

Not without far more scandal and actual harm than someone being in bed with me in my own home.

” She paused, and Bess was about to try to say something when Hereswith went on.

“I don’t know how to explain most of it, but— let’s see.

I saw things that need a novel approach, that need to tear down what has been done, what has been assumed to try something new. Do you mind being part of that?”

“So long as I get to be part of it, and with you, no. I’d mind if I were one of the things being torn down.” Bess admitted it softly.

“Build you up, I suspect. Tomorrow, we’re going to need— will you, I mean— to talk through a lot of social obligations and gowns and I don’t know what else.”

“We can do that. Starting with whatever celebration, yes?” Bess said.

Then she nudged the plate of food closer to Hereswith.

“Eat something. You’ll feel better if you do.

” None of it was too rich. There were slices of early apples there, and good cheese, and a bit of bread and butter.

Hereswith worked her way slowly through that — and more easily through the chocolate— until she’d had enough to be restorative.

Once Bess cleared the tray, leaving it in the sitting room for the morning, and coming back, Hereswith was curled up under the sheets.

Bess joined her, a little uncertain, but then Hereswith reached out a hand.

Bess took it, then peered at it. “May I offer you a little vitality? You’ll sleep better, I’m sure. ”

“I can’t ask.” Hereswith looked at their hands in the dim light from the charmlight in the hallway.

“I am offering. You’re not asking. Your part is to say yes, thank you. You could say no. Please don’t.” Bess said it as firmly as she could, and as gently.

It made Hereswith laugh again. “Can you dim the light, then, and— yes? Please. A new dance. I suppose I’m going to learn a new way of going about my work.”

“A different range of magic, certainly.” Bess agreed.

“You—” Hereswith’s voice caught. “You didn’t assume I haven’t been using it. Most people do. I’m working with the non-magical.”

“Which just means you can’t use the obvious magics.

But I’m sure you’ve been using dozens of things to present yourself as you choose.

Well-dressed, but also well-spoken, whatever you prefer for memory, all of that.

” Bess took it as a cue to snuggle into the bed.

It was an enormous bed, comfortable, and charmed to be even more so than the mattress and bedding suggested. “Give me your hands properly, then.”

Hereswith didn’t argue, pressing her hands palm to palm with Bess.

The angle was awkward. Usually they’d be upright, with Bess letting her magic flow down.

But she’d done this dozens of times with her various employers or as part of helping the kitchen staff on a busy day.

She could let her magic flow out. It moved like warmed honey, not a fast rush, but a steady one with weight behind it.

They lay like that for a good handful of minutes until Hereswith whispered, “Enough.”

“Sleep well.” Bess lay there in the dark, her hand on Hereswith’s forearm, just listening to the change in breath. Hereswith was asleep almost immediately, and Bess followed eventually.