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I felt her before I saw her. Starling wore a morning robe of pale blue. Her hair was loose upon her shoulders, and her graceful narrow feet were in simple sandals. She carried a steaming mug between both her hands. I watched her and wished that things could have been simpler between us. When she noticed me sitting silently on the bench beneath the tree, she gaped in feigned astonishment, then changed her expression to a smile as she came to join me. She sat down, kicked her feet free of her sandals, and curled her legs on the bench between us.

“Well, good morning,” she greeted me. There was mild surprise in her eyes. “I nearly didn't recognize you, Fitz. You look as if you've lost ten years.”Advertisement

“Tom,” I reminded her gently, well knowing that she had dropped my old name to rattle me. “And I feel as if you are right. Perhaps the daily routine of a guardsman was what I needed all along.”

She made a skeptical noise in her throat, and took a sip from her mug. When she looked up, she added sourly, “I notice you don't think the same is true for me?”

“What, that you'd do better as a guardsman?” I asked her innocently. Then, as she pretended a kick at me, I added, “Starling, you always look like Starling to me. Neither older nor younger than I expect you to be, but always Starling.”

She furrowed her brow for a moment, then shrugged and laughed. “I never know if you mean the things you say as compliments or not.” Then she leaned closer to me, sniffing the air near me. “Musk? Are you wearing musk these days, Tom Badgerlock? If you are interested in attracting female companionship . . . ?”

“No, I wear no musk. I've just been sleeping with a ferret.”

I had replied with honesty, and her whoop of laughter startled me. A moment later, I was grinning with her as she shook her head at me. She shifted on the bench so that her sun-warmed thigh pressed against mine. “That is so like you, Fitz. So like you.” She gave a sigh of contentment, and then asked lazily, “Then, can I surmise that you have ended your mourning and bonded again?”

Her words dimmed the summer morning for me. I cleared my throat and spoke carefully. “No. I doubt that I ever will. Nighteyes and I fit together like a knife and a sheath.” I looked out over the chamomile bed and said quietly, “After him, there can be no other. It would be a disservice to whatever creature I joined, for he would be only a substitute, and never genuinely my partner.”

She read more into my words than I intended. She put her arm along the back of the bench. Pillowing her head on it, she looked up at the sky through the tree branches that shaded us. I finished the milk I had brought with me and set the cup aside. I was about to excuse myself for my morning lesson with Swift when she asked, “Have you ever thought of taking Molly back, then?”

“What?”

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She lifted her head. “You loved the girl. At least, so you've always maintained. And she had your child, at great cost to herself. You know that she could have shaken it from her body if she had chosen. That she didn't means that she felt something deep for you. You should go to her. Take her back.”

“Molly and I were a long time ago. She is married to Burrich. They built a life together. They have six children of their own,” I pointed out stiffly.

“So?” She brought her gaze to meet mine. “I saw him when he came to Buckkeep to fetch Swift home. He was closemouthed and grim when I greeted him. And he was old. He walks with a hitch and his eyes are clouding.” She shook her head over him. “If you decided to take Molly back from him, he could offer you no competition.”

“I would never do that!”

She sipped from her mug, looking at me steadily over the rim. “I know that,” she said when she took the cup from her lips. “Even though he took her from you.”

“They both think I'm dead!” I pointed out to her, my voice harsher than I'd intended.

“Are you sure you're not?” she asked flippantly. Then, at the look on my face, her eyes softened. “Oh, Fitz. You never do anything for yourself, do you? Never take what you want.” She leaned closer to me. “Do you think Molly would have thanked you for your decision? Do you truly think you had the right to decide for her?” She leaned back a little, watching my face. “You gave her and the child away as if you were finding a good home for a puppy. Why?”

I'd answered that question so many times I didn't even need to think. “He was the better man for her. That was true then; it's true now.”

“Is it? I wonder if Molly would agree.” pqdm.com