Season notes: violence, death, attempted murder

A week passed before Jahlene again suggested Mattin take a meal with his sister. Knowing the mistress’ habits, Brit had Parlen rounded up and waiting with him as dinner time rolled around. They entered the office as Mattin was leaving. Brit had a chance to watch Jahlene relax once Mattin exited. He would bet Cook’s xocalt against rocks in the mountains that Mattin was aware of it—the boy wasn’t actually the fool he acted from time to time.

Jahlene smiled when she saw Brit and Parlen at her door. She got up from her desk and hurried over to give Brit a hug. “Rough day, lass?” he asked.

“Rough week,” she replied, “Berta is bringing food for three—I was going to send for you.”

Parlen sniffed. “Since when do you need to send for Brit? Sometimes I’d swear he has glamour himself.”

Brit shook his head and smiled. “That’s not glamour. That’s knowing her ways since before she could walk.”

Jahlene smacked him on the shoulder.

The three settled down to eat again, and Jahlene happily put the day—and Mattin’s constant emotional turmoil—behind her. At least until Parlen asked, “Will you tell us what is bothering you, Mistress?”

Brit winced as he cleaned the meat off of a leg bone. He knew not to bring anything up until they were done eating. Too late now, her appetite was gone with the reminder. “Mattin is… still having difficulties. And,” she added darkly, “his sister isn’t helping.”

Brit swallowed his meat and sighed. Jahlene was surprised to taste resignation from him. “I’ve heard a bit of this. Aside from poking him about how horrid it is that he’s a slave, what’s she done now?”

“Accused me—to my face even!—of using glamour to twist Mattin’s emotions around and make him happy to be here.”

This time, Parlen winced. “I know she’s having trouble settling in, but we all knew it would take time. I had a picnic with her the other day, and from what she said, it doesn’t help that she thinks that, well, that none of us understand what she’s been through. It has her feeling very alone.

“Actually, she asked if she could write to some old friends. I — ah — told her that wouldn’t be a problem.”

Jahlene waved that away. “That’s fine. I’d be worried if she wasn’t still having problems, though I didn’t expect her to be so brazen. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“Mattin believed her.”

Parlen’s horror rocked her, “How could he?!”

Brit was strangely unmoved, but she was too upset to wonder why.

“Did he say he believed her?” Brit asked.

“No, but he didn’t need to. I tasted his reaction—like I turned into a monster.” She shuddered, remembering. “Now he acts like everything is normal, but I can still taste the truth. He dreads coming near me.”

Brit sighed. “Lass, isn’t it possible he was reacting to his sister saying such a thing?”

“No. I know his emotions, Brit. I’ve had them rubbed in my face long enough.”

Parlen fiddled with her skirts. “Mistress, Brit may have a point. He’s been here less than a year, and you’ve never seen him around his sister. Whatever his other faults, Mattin is a good man, and you helped free his sister. Why wouldn’t he be upset by her ingratitude?”

Jahlene shook her head. “No. That doesn’t make sense. Why is he afraid to be near me if he doesn’t believe that… that slander!” She jumped off the couch and began pacing the room. “Nothing else makes sense. Nothing.”

Brit muttered something.

Jahlene whirled around. “What was that?”

Brit ran a hand through his hair. “I said, you’re reminding me of the boy himself on the subject of glamour—he knows what he knows, and don’t try to tell him differently.”

The words hit Jahlene like a slap. “How can you even say such a thing? I have done my best for that man, risked he has no idea how much to save his sister, and this is the thanks I get? His fear, his loathing? Why shouldn’t I be upset, damn it!”

Brit threw up his hands. “No, you aren’t being unreasonable. No, you didn’t just prove my whole point. No, you aren’t refusing to give the boy a chance to speak for himself. Of course not! What was I ever thinking?”

Parlen buried her face in her hands. “If I can interrupt the explosion?”

“What?” Jahlene and Brit both turned on her.

“Mistress, why Mattin is feeling this way doesn’t matter. His feelings are harming you. So why keep him near?” Parlen ran a hand through her hair. Her hand got stuck in the careful styling. She grimaced and pulled her hand out, making her hair tumble down about her face. “I’ll grant he does his job and does well. But you managed before. He could return to working in the kitchen, and you wouldn’t be tormented by this every day. And maybe if he had some space from you, he’d realize how foolish he’s being.” Trying to fix her hair just made it worse. After a few attempts, she shrugged and gave up.

“I’ve been trying to give him space!”

Brit groaned. “Seriously? This is your answer? Ignore whatever is causing the problem and shove it out of sight?”

Parlen shrugged. “Do you have a better one? If the Mistress is right, then nothing we can do or say will change Mattin’s belief. Putting space between them limits the damage.” Since Jahlene’s back was towards her, Parlen allowed herself to roll her eyes as she spoke. “And she is so sure she is right, she can’t consider other options.” Parlen gestured towards her tangled hair. “Sometimes trying to fix things makes them worse. Unless she wants to release him.”

She turned to Jahlene, “Honestly, Mistress, why have you let this go on for so long? If he is afraid to be near you, and you can’t stand to be near him, then this is foolish.”

For a long moment, Jahlene stared at her. “You are right.”

It was Brit’s turn to bury his head in his hands.

“I am?” Parlen said.

“Yes. There is no reason to put myself through this. No reason for him to remain here any longer.”

Brit and Parlen glanced at each other, dismay echoing in both their faces. “Um, when you say remain here…”

“Oh, I can’t just release him. We had a bargain after all. But I’m sure something will come along.” And with that, she turned back to her food. Amazing how her appetite returned when she no longer faced the prospect of swallowing Mattin’s fear for the next several decades.

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Once she made her decision, putting it into action was simple. She waited until the next morning and summoned Marta to her office. From the corner, she tasted Mattin’s spiking emotions as his sister entered.

Marta was afraid, but under the fear was resentment. Her taste was so similar to Mattin’s when he first arrived. Jahlene had once hoped he would learn to be happy in her service. Over time his resentment had faded, but the fear… the fear kept coming back.

“I warned you, girl, that your welcome here was conditional. Did you think I wouldn’t learn about your repeated attempts to turn your brother against me?” She leaned back in her chair as the girl’s anger flared. “I didn’t expect your liking or respect, but I thought at least gratitude would teach you discretion.”

Marta looked to the floor and squared her shoulders. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “Gratitude, Lady? Everything I have is because of Mattin’s sacrifice. He is the one I owe everything to, and because I owe him, you expect me to sit silently while you torment him?”

Jahlene hid her relief. The girl was angry enough, and brave enough, to challenge her. “I do not ‘torment’ Mattin or any of my people. If you do not know that by now, I don’t know what you have been doing in your time here.”

“Watching.” Marta hissed. “Watching while he dies a little every day, as you treat him like a thing, a tool, a… an animal not worth your consideration.”

Jahlene’s eyebrows climbed for her hairline. Something in the girl’s reaction… behind the fear, behind the anger, she tasted…glee? She didn’t know what to make of it, but other things required her focus. Odd reaction or not, the girl was right. Behind the fear, Mattin did taste of pain. Pain Jahlene hoped to remedy today.

“Your brother and I made a bargain. I have no wish to hurt him, but if he has been hurt, that changes nothing.” She took another breath, blocking out the new spike of pain she felt from Mattin. “But you could change it.”

The girl froze, blinked. Mattin’s fear morphed into shock, then horror. Before he could speak, Jahlene held up a hand, ordering him to silence.

“What, what do you mean, Lady Jahlene?” Marta asked.

Jahlene braced her hands on her desk. “Your brother and I struck a bargain. Such bargains cannot be unmade, but new bargains can always be struck. What would you offer me for his freedom?” She hadn’t expected the way her throat tried to close around the words.

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