He waited for her to press, to demand more information. He expected it—but she just nodded. His mother had been acting this way since arriving and it unnerved him.
“Chancellor Nimbus was by earlier. He wanted to let you know that the empress is calling a meeting this evening and you are requested to attend.”
“I know. Alric already told me.”
“Did he say what it was to be about?”
“It’ll be about the invasion, I’m sure. She will want to mount a full-scale retaliation. Alric expects she will use this crisis to demand Melengar join the empire.”
“What will Alric do?”
“What can he do? Alric isn’t a king without a kingdom. I should warn you that I intend to join him. I will gather what men Alric still has, form a troop, and volunteer to fight.”
Once more the quiet, submissive nod.
“Why do you do that? Why must you give in to me without even a protest? If I had said I was going off to war a month ago, I would have never heard the end of it.”
“A month ago you were my son; today you are Count Pickering.”
He watched her clutch the shawl with a white-knuckled fist, her mouth set, her other hand holding the doorframe.
“Maybe he survived,” Mauvin said. “He’s gotten through tough situations before. There’s a chance he could have fought his way out. With his sword no one could ever beat him—not even Braga.”
Her lips trembled; her eyes grew glassy. “Come,” she said, and disappeared back into the castle. He followed as she led the way to her chambers. There were three beds in the room. With all the refugees, space was tight in the palace these days. The chamberlain did his best to accommodate them according to rank, but there was only so much he could do. Mauvin bunked with Alric and now his brother Denek as well. Mauvin knew his mother shared her room with his sister, Lenare, and the lady Alenda Lanaklin of Glouston, neither of whom was there at that moment.
The room was a fraction of the size of her bedchamber back home. The beds themselves were small single bunks. The plain headboards were dressed with quilts adorned with patterns of roses. Leaded glass windows let the light in, but sheer white curtains turned the brilliance into a muted fog, which felt heavy and oppressive. The room had the air of a funeral. On the dresser he spotted the familiar statuette of Novron that used to be in their chapel. The demigod sat upon his throne, one hand upraised in a gesture of authority. Beside it was a single salifan candle, still burning. On the floor before it lay her bed pillow, two dents side by side where she had knelt.
His mother walked to the wardrobe and withdrew a long blanket-wrapped bundle. She turned and held it out. There was a formality in her movement, a solemnness in her eyes. He looked at the bundle—long and thin, tied with a green silk ribbon, the kind she and Lenare used to bind their hair. The blanket it held was like a shroud over a dead body. Mauvin did not want to touch it.
“No,” he said without meaning to, and took a step backward.
“Take it,” she told him.
The door opened abruptly.
“I don’t want to go alone,” Alenda Lanaklin said as she and his sister, Lenare, entered. The two women were also dressed in dark conservative gowns. Lenare carried a plate of food, and Alenda a cup. “It’s awkward. I don’t even know him. Oh—” They both stopped.
Mauvin hastily took the bundle from his mother. He did not look at it and quickly moved toward the door.
“I’m sorry,” Alenda said. She was staring at him, her face troubled.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Mauvin muttered, and walked past them. He kept his eyes focused on the floor as he went.
“Mauvin?” Alenda called down the hallway.
He heard her steps behind him and stopped, but he did not turn.
He felt her touch his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“You said that.”
“That was for interrupting.”
He felt her press against him, and she kissed his cheek.
“Thank you.” He watched as she worked hard to force a smile even as a tear slipped down her cheek.
“Your mother hasn’t eaten. She hardly even leaves the room. Lenare and I went to get her something.”
“That’s very kind.”
“Are you all right?”
“I should be asking you that. I lost a father, but you lost a father and two brothers as well.”
She nodded and sniffled. “I’ve been trying not to think about it. There’s so much—too much. Everyone has lost someone. You can’t have a conversation anymore without people crying their eyes out.” She half laughed, half cried. “See?”
He reached up and wiped her tears. Her cheeks were amazingly soft; the wetness made them shine.
“What were you and Lenare talking about?” he asked.
“Oh, that?” she said, sounding embarrassed. “It will sound foolish.”
“Perhaps foolishness is needed right now.” He made a face and winked at her.
She smiled, this time more easily.
“Com’on,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her with him down the hall. “Tell me this terrible secret.”
“It’s not a secret. I just wanted Lenare to come with me when I meet my brother.”