The only people Lia had ever truly been jealous of during her life were those who came to Muirwood to learn how to read and engrave. The embodiment of that jealousy became Ellowyn Demont. She was like an uncertain dancer at the maypole, watching and imitating everyone else, but always a skip and a twirl too late – one so preoccupied with getting the moves right that the shuffling steps could not be referred to as dancing. Lia’s thoughts were cruel and she recognized that. The problem was she could not help herself. The deeper problem lay in the fact that she was jealous of Ellowyn for another reason as well. The nub of it – Colvin’s constant attention to her.
When he was wounded and hid in the kitchen, they had argued about Lia’s outspokenness and her ability to keep secrets. Colvin had praised Sowe’s shyness and reserve as qualities worth admiring. She remembered the conversation vividly. Ellowyn was that kind of girl. The deference Colvin paid to the Demont girl was obvious, tender, and – truthfully – infuriatingly sensitive. Every time she watched them together, it made her ill. The feeling was so strong that sometimes she wondered if she needed valerianum tea to calm her stomach. She understood the emotion. It was jealousy and it tormented her.
For example, after a visitor arrived from nearby Wells Abbey, Lia was commanded by the Aldermaston to speak to Ailsa Cook about a meal. She spied Colvin and Ellowyn together near the laundry, deep in conversation. Colvin looked animated, his hands gesturing. Ellowyn was completely engrossed, taking in his every word as if they were honey. The feeling in Lia’s chest was so powerful, so painful, she went another way, afraid she would be noticed, that the Medium would betray her thoughts to him. How humiliating that would be!
The evenings in the kitchen were especially difficult, and she found herself coming back later and later. The talking and laughing were enjoyable. But it was as if her private domain had been intruded upon, that the kitchen was no longer her refuge but theirs. Every night, Marciana wheedled more information from her. Every night she did everything she could not to stare at Colvin too much, to keep Marciana from suspecting that something was wrong. Sowe and Bryn had grown closer over the year, making Lia feel as if her place was usurped. The depth and intensity of her feelings were so strong she began worrying that the Medium would stop working for her altogether.
A week passed since Martin had left. She missed him and his surly advice, his bluff manners. He was always practical, always one to force an issue, never hide from it. He would cut to the quick. What was tormenting her? What was it that truly bothered her? She pondered the question, seeing Martin’s scrunched up eyebrows, the angry jut of his jaw. Was it that Colvin was treating Ellowyn with respect when he had treated her so angrily? Did she fear he was forming an attachment to the girl? Was that it? That they would marry? The nagging thoughts were subtle – quick to dodge her attempts at confining them so easily. It was not knowing Colvin’s thoughts that bothered her. Was she seeing too much in his deference to Ellowyn? Was his politeness no more than that? In the Cider Orchard, she had assumed he felt contempt for the girl. But his manners belied any trace of it. How she wished the Medium would let her see into his mind again!
“Lia, wait up!”
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she had not seen Duerden’s approach from the duck pond. He hefted his tome in one hand and arranged the flap of his leather bag so he could stuff it inside. He had grown in a year, but still barely came up to her nose.
“Hello, Duerden,” she said, slowing her pace so he could join her.
“I was…hoping I would find you about today,” he said, bringing the bag strap around his shoulder. “I can see you are in a hurry. I will walk with you. I do not want to keep you from your duties.”
That was thoughtful. She liked that about him. “I was on my way to Martin’s lodge. Are you finished with your studies for the day?”
“I am. Do you mind the company?”
“No.” As they started walking towards the western grounds, Lia noticed him fidgeting. “What did you learn from the Hodoeporicon today? You are still engraving it?”
He nodded excitedly. “I am hoping to finish engraving before Whitsunday. I have been burning through dozens of candles at night to work. The other learners think I am daft, but I would really like half of it scribed before I finish this year.”