“Perhaps I do, when I’m not so tired.” I said sharply.
“I doubt it,” she said sincerely. “You look very ordinary. And you sound as dull as my brother Hotorn. He is very concerned with his dignity, and I think that prevents him from having an interesting life. If I were a boy, and permitted to have an interesting life, I would have no dignity at all.”
“You don’t seem to be overly burdened with it as a girl,” I pointed out to her.
“Well, yes, I’ve discarded it as being useless to me as a girl, also. But that doesn’t mean I can have an interesting life. Although, I do aspire to one. I do. Good night, Nevare.” She leaned closer as if she would kiss me on the cheek, but stopped short, staring at the side of my head. “Whatever did you do to your ear?”
“A plains warrior cut it with his swanneck. A swanneck is a long, curving blade.” I was glad to say it. Her remark that I was ordinary had stung me sharply.
“I know what a swanneck is, cousin.” She sounded very patronizing as she paused with her hand on the doorknob. “And you are my cousin dear, and I will love you no matter how boring you are. So you needn’t make up wild tales about savage plainsmen. You probably think you can easily deceive a city girl like me, but I know such stories are rubbish. I have read a great deal about the plainsmen, and I know they are a natural and gentle folk who lived in complete harmony with nature. Unlike us.” She gave yet another sigh. “Don’t tell lies to make yourself seem important, Nevare. That is such a wearying trait in a man. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“He cut my ear twice. I had to have it stitched!” I tried to tell her, but she shushed me furiously as the door closed behind her. Before her visit, I had been wearily relaxed and ready for sleep. Now, despite my fatigue, I could not drift off, even after I blew out my candle. I lay in the big soft bed and listened to the rain hitting the window glass and wondered if I were ordinary and boring. Eventually I decided that Epiny was too eccentric to know what ordinary was, and thus I was able to fall asleep.
Only my youth, I am sure, made me jolt awake at the chambermaid’s timid tap at my door early the next morning. Unthinking, I bade her come in, and then stayed where I was, blushing beneath my covers, as she fetched warm wash water and then bundled away my travelling clothes for freshening and brushing. I was greatly unaccustomed to being cared for in such a way, and even after she had left, it took me some little time before I dared venture from my bed, lest she return unannounced. When I did, I washed and dressed hastily. Habit made me tidy my room, and then I wondered if the maid would think me odd and rustic that I had spread up my bedding myself. Then I became irritated with myself that I would worry so much about what a maid might think of me. Having pushed that concern from my mind, I began to consider nervously all that my uncle had said of the Academy the night before. Had I had any more time by myself, it is likely I would have worked myself into a fine lather, but luckily for me, another knock at my door summoned me to an early breakfast with my uncle and father.
Both were up, shaved, and neatly attired for the day despite our late night. I had expected to see my aunt and cousins at table, but there were no extra settings and my uncle made no mention of them. We were served a hearty breakfast of kippers and a mixed grill, with tea and toast. Sleep had revived my appetite, until my uncle observed, “Eat well, Nevare, for I’ve heard that a young man’s first meal at the academy is a hurried one. I doubt that your noon meal will please you as well as this breakfast does.”
At his words, my appetite fled, and I asked my father, “Am I to go directly to the Academy today, then, father?”
“We think it best that you do. Your uncle has agreed to keep Sirlofty here until such time as you are allowed to have your own mount. We’ll make one stop for a boot fitting with a cobbler Sefert recommends, and then I’ll escort you to the Academy. You’ll be a day ahead of most of the others. Perhaps it will give you a chance to settle in before your classmates arrive.”
And so it was done. Breakfast was scarcely finished before a footman came to announce that my trunks had been loaded onto my uncle’s carriage. My uncle bid me farewell at the door and advised my father that there was to be an excellent venison roast with wild plum sauce for dinner.
We were walking to the carriage when Epiny suddenly hastened down the steps after us. She was still in a nightgown with a robe flung over it, but now her curling brown hair was loose about her shoulders. By daylight, I estimated her to be only a few years younger than me. Yet she seemed childish when she cried out, “Nevare, Nevare, you cannot leave when you have not even said farewell!”
“Epiny! You are much too old to be running about in your night-clothes!” my uncle rebuked her, but there was suppressed mirth in his voice, and from it I suspected that she was her father’s favourite.
“But I must bid my cousin good luck, Father! Oh, I told you I should have stayed up last night. I knew it! Now we’ve had no time at all to talk, and I had so looked forward to doing a reading for him, to foretell his success or failure at the Academy.” She stepped back from me, lifting her hands to frame my face as if she were planning to paint my portrait. She narrowed her eyes to slits and said in a hushed voice, “Perhaps I misjudged you? How could I have thought you ordinary? Such an aura. Such a magnificent aura, twice what I’ve seen on any other man. It burns red with a man’s vigour close to your skin, but a second corona of green says you are nature’s child, and a loving son to her—”
“And that sort of nonsense is exactly why you were not allowed to stay up to greet him! Bid him the good god’s blessing, Epiny, and then he must be on his way. Nevare cannot let a silly little girl and her play-pretend nattering delay him on an important day like this.” True impatience and perhaps a bit of embarrassment had crept into her father’s voice. I stood still as she pattered up to me, her little slippers peeping from beneath her robe. She stood on tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek and bid me god speed. “Come to dinner soon! I regularly die of boredom here!” She whispered hastily, and then she let me go.
“Blessings of the good god be on you, cousin,” I managed to say, and bowed again to my uncle before climbing into the carriage. Epiny stood on the steps, holding her father’s hand and waving to us as the footman held the carriage door open for us. I scarcely knew what to think of her, but decided my uncle was correct to be concerned. No wonder the young woman on the jankboat had seemed so amused to find Epiny was my cousin. I felt a belated blush over that.
My uncle’s carriage was a much grander transport than the wagon that had carried us the night before. His crest, the ‘old crest’ of my family, gleamed on the polished wood door. There was a driver, attired in my uncle’s colours of maroon and grey, and a fine team of grey geldings with maroon touches on their harness and headstalls. My father and I climbed into the carriage while a footman held the door for us. We climbed in and took our seats on the plush grey upholstery. There were little burgundy cushions with soft charcoal tassels in each corner of the seat and window curtains to match. I had never been inside a conveyance so fine, and despite the fact that only my father accompanied me, I sat up very straight.
The driver cracked his whip to start the team, which made me leap in my seat. My father allowed himself a small smile and I found myself grinning back. “Don’t be so tense, son,” he counselled me gently as we set off. “Show the alertness of a fine spirit, but do not make Colonel Stiet think the Burvelle family has sent him a Nervous Nellie.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, and forced myself to sit back on the seat. The carriage rolled thunderously over the cobbled streets of Old Thares. At any other time, I would have been fascinated at the sights outside the window, but today they could scarcely hold my attention. We first passed other fine houses with manicured grounds, not very different from my uncle’s domain. Beyond the well-kept walls and gates, I had glimpses of tall oaks and fine lawns, pathways and statuary. Then we wound down into the merchants districts, and trees and open space were left behind. Commercial establishments stood wall to wall, with residential quarters above them. We stopped at the cobbler whom my uncle had recommended. He made swift work of measuring my feet and promised my new boots would be delivered to my rooms at the Academy within a fortnight.