Bronwyn lay in the twilight, vaguely aware that she’d been awake for a while, but she didn’t feel inclined to move. Her eyes blinked sleepily in the dim light, and she floated for a while on the edge of consciousness, thinking about the night before, with Tristan.
He’d shown her so many things, so much tenderness, and it felt impossible to believe he’d been that way with so many girls. By his own admission, though he sounded ashamed of it. But, she couldn’t help wondering, did he mean that about feeling how it was…bigger? Was it just her, and her first puppy love, or was it really something different?
Enru jumped lightly on the foot of her bed. Are you awake? His voice was quiet and gentle.
Bronwyn nodded and rolled over, reaching out to scratch his ears. “I’m sorry, Enru,” she said after a while. “I’ve been horrible to you, and you’re only trying to protect me.” She sighed, sitting up.
I was, replied Enru. He extended his neck, and Bronwyn smiled, rubbing under his chin. But there comes a point, you know?
“I know. I crossed a line.” Bronwyn twisted her mouth, pushing him over and rubbing his belly.
Several. Oh, yeah. Enru stretched out his legs luxuriously. He allowed her to pet him a few more minutes before he rolled away, sitting up and washing a paw. Dinner is ready, by the way, if you’re hungry, he said. Shall we?
“I think that’s a good idea,” answered Bronwyn, raising her eyebrows as she felt her stomach growling. She’d eaten nothing but crêpes and sausage all day long.
Bèatrix fixed her with a cool stare when Bronwyn entered the kitchen, her dress and apron neatly arranged. She’d even adjusted her hem several inches lower, and she tugged her skirt over her knees when she sat down.
“Bèatrix, I’m sorry. I broke my promise to you,” she said dully. She hated apologizing; she hated the feeling of shame that washed over her now.
“Bah. ‘Tis forgotten; I know you’ve learned your lesson. Besides, you’re a woman now, and free to do as you please.” Bèatrix waved a large wooden spoon. She turned back to the stove, stirring a tomato sauce in the pan. Bronwyn stared at the wooden table.
“I was unforgivably rude,” she offered miserably.
“Rude is a matter of opinion,” said Bèatrix gravely as she boned fish for frying in a skillet. “I happen to empathize with your emotional state at the time, so it doesn’t bother me.” Bronwyn was silent. “I mean it, Bronwyn. Don’t worry. All is forgiven.” She set a plate of fish before her and drizzled a creamy tomato sauce over it. Bronwyn picked up her fork and began eating somberly, already filled with dread at the nausea that suddenly gripped her.
She suffered through an agonizingly quiet dinner, painfully without Tristan’s presence. He knew better than to come around for quite some time; Bèatrix would be after his head for a while. She knew he was lying low for his own sake, and hated him for it. Coward, she thought bitterly. It was all nothing to him, a night of sport and play.
She finished picking at her meal and stood. “Enru, would you like to walk with me?” she asked softly, stroking the cat’s head.
All right, he said, exchanging glances with Bèatrix. Her lips pursed and she raised an eyebrow at the feline: He would be informing her of anything Bronwyn told him. He looked away shiftily, unwilling to make the promise. Bèatrix sighed and began collecting the plates.
“Go,” she was all she said. “Don’t be out too late.”
Bronwyn was quiet for most of the walk, around the edge of the Willowood property. She wavered between confiding in Enru and suspecting him of being Bèatrix’s stooge. She couldn’t decide whether to trust him or not.
Is there something on your mind, Bronwyn? asked Enru finally, when they came back within sight of the main farmhouse. If you want, I will give you my word as your familiar that it will remain in my confidence. He looked at her solemnly with his green eyes.
“What exactly is the realm of my power?” asked Bronwyn finally, pausing and scooping a handful of snow.
Healing, in general, replied Enru, twitching his ears as he picked his way through the snow. Why?
“Is there a specific reason that Bèatrix is a midwife, and I am her apprentice?” asked Bronwyn, licking some of the clean snow from her fingers.
Well, it is the best occupation for a female Healer, said Enru, looking up at her. She concentrated on the snow in her hand, forming it into a compact ball. She mulled this over in her mind as she smoothed the snowball.
“All right,” she said finally. She hurled the snow as far as she could into the treeline. She began walking again, crunching back toward the house.
Enru followed her leaping from bootprint to bootprint, brooding on his mistress’s strange behavior.
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