Very soon thereafter she found she had developed a raging headache.
First Eris, the cook, had sent a kitchen girl running to say that the mutton had gone a bit off, and the morning’s catch out of the sea had been disappointing, and could they possibly serve Her Majesty fish out of the marshes? And if not, whatever should they do? Did Mienthe know of any dishes Her Majesty particularly favored? Or disfavored? That they could actually prepare, nothing made of air and rose petals such as they made at court, no, and would plain cream pastries suit Her Majesty at all, could Mienthe guess?
As a deluge is foreshadowed by a single drop of rain, this first problem was followed by others from every corner of the house. The master of the stables sent a boy to inform Mienthe that the queen’s favorite mare wouldn’t be fit to ride for a few days as the animal had been kicked by another horse when the beasts had been turned out into the house-pasture, and could Mienthe possibly tell the queen herself so the staff wouldn’t have to risk displeasing her? And then the upstairs maids sent a girl to tell Mienthe that in all the flurry of the previous night no one had remembered to cut flowers for the vases, and would the queen insist on flowers on her supper table tonight or might they possibly wait to cut some for tomorrow? And then the laundry maids reported that a cat had had her kittens right in the midst of the finest bed linens and now there weren’t enough for all the queen’s ladies, as Her Majesty had brought twice as many as they had expected, and what could they possibly do when there wasn’t time to wash the linens before bedtime and all the shops in town were closed at this hour?
If Tef had still had charge of the great house’s cats, that last problem would never have arisen. It was thinking of Tef that gave Mienthe the headache, she was fairly certain. She longed to go sit on his gravestone and plait grass stems and flowers into a bracelet as he’d shown her, and forget all about the queen and her ladies.
Instead, she told the kitchens that fish of whatever origin would be delicious, and she suggested they round the menu out with duck and agreed that the queen would assuredly love cream pastries.
Then she sent the boy back to the stablemaster with the suggestion that the queen, if she wished to ride out in the next few days, might like to try the paces of that pretty gray mare her cousin had just purchased—the animal had nice manners, didn’t she? The stablemaster might make sure the mare was kept clean and perhaps the boys might braid ribbons into her mane. Or early flowers. The queen liked flowers and would undoubtedly find the gesture charming. Although Mienthe was quite certain, she assured the upstairs maids, that no one would mind doing without flowers on the dining table just this one evening.
Then she patiently sent two of the younger maids, along with one of the guardsmen, to rouse out the proper shopkeepers and buy new bed linens, instructing them to pay extra for the favor even if the shopkeepers didn’t request it.
After that, Mienthe had the headache.
She would have liked to beg off from supper, but of course she could not do anything of the kind. She wished Tan could have come down for it, or if he couldn’t, she wished she might simply have a tray in her room. The little princesses, not even needing broken legs to excuse them, were not present, their nurses having taken them away to have their suppers privately.
That left Mienthe and the queen, and the dozen or so ladies Her Majesty had brought along on this progress—indeed, twice as many as she ever had before. No wonder the maids were fretting about the linens. Nearly all of the ladies were older than Mienthe, and all of them wore more elaborate and stylish gowns, and more ostentatious and expensive jewels. And they all chatted with one another in an oblique way that, Mienthe thought, might fit right in at the Linularinan court, because she didn’t understand more than a phrase here or there.
Mienthe smiled and nodded when anyone spoke to her, and fervently wished Tan were at the table. He would probably be able effortlessly to translate all those little barbed comments, even though he was more closely acquainted with the Linularinan court than the one in Feierabiand.
The fish was good, though, and the duck superb.
“How quiet you are this evening, Mienthe!” the queen said at last, gazing down the table. She spoke with warm good humor; if she even noticed the edged tone of her ladies’ chatter, it wasn’t apparent. She said, plainly intending to avoid any difficult topic, “Tell us all the gossip of Tiefenauer and of the Delta, do. Such a large and complicated family you have here! There must be all sorts of interesting frivolities and nonsense we might hear of, to lighten the hour.”
Mienthe’s smile slipped.