The Fool sat deathly still for several long moments. Then, with his eyes on the teapot as he lifted it and delicately filled his cup, he asked, ‘Will not the elfbark interfere with your teaching Prince Dutiful to Skill?’

‘The Prince himself has already interfered with that by not coming to his lessons for the last several days. Elfbark or no, I cannot teach a student who does not come to me.’ Again, I felt small twinge of surprise to find how much I was upset by that. Somehow, the act of sitting down at table with my old friend, knowing I intended to confront him, was making all these odd painful truths bubble out of me. As if somehow they were all his fault for holding himself so aloof from me for the past week, while allowing his friend to believe falsehoods about us.

The Fool leaned back in his chair, the cup of tea cradled between his long and graceful hands. He looked past me. ‘Well. It seems as if that is a matter to take up with the Prince.’

‘It is. But there is also a matter that I must take up with you.’ I heard how my voice dropped accusingly as I said those words, but could not control it.

A long silence held between us. For a moment the Fool folded his lips, as if holding in words. Then he took a sip of his tea. He lifted his eyes to meet mine, and I was surprised by the weariness on his face. ‘Is there?’ he asked unwillingly.

Reluctance tugged at me but I forced the word out. ‘Yes. There is. I want to know what you have said to that Jek woman to make her think that I, that we, that—’ I hated the words. It was as if I feared to express the thought, that by speaking it aloud it would gain some sort of reality.

An odd expression fleeted over the Fool’s head. ‘I’ve said nothing to her, Fitz. “That Jek woman” as you name her, is capable of concocting her own theories on just about anything. She is one of those people you never need lie to; simply withhold information, and she makes up her own stories. Some, wildly inaccurate, as you have seen. Rather like Starling, in some ways.’

I didn’t need to hear that name right then. She was another one who had believed that my bond with the Fool went beyond friendship. I recognized now that he had led her to believe that by the same technique he had used with Jek. No denials of it, leading remarks and witticisms, all encouraging her to form a mistaken opinion. At one time it had seemed a trifle uncomfortable but humorous all the same, to watch her labouring under her delusion. Now it seemed humiliating and deceitful that he had led her to believe that.

He set his teacup down on the table. ‘I thought I was feeling stronger, but I am not,’ he said in Golden’s aristocratic tones. I think I shall retire to my room. No visitors, Tom Badgerlock. He started to rise.

‘Sit down,’ I said. ‘We need to talk.’

He stood. ‘I think not.’

‘I insist.’

‘I refuse.’ He looked past me, into a distance I could not see. He lifted his chin.

I stood. ‘I need to know, Fool. You look at me sometimes, you say things, apparently in jest, but… you let both Starling and Jek believe that we could be lovers.’ The word came out harshly, like an epithet. ‘Perhaps you deem it of little importance that Jek believes you are a woman and in love with me. I cannot be so blithe about such assumptions. I’ve already had to deal with rumours of your taste in bed partners. Even Prince Dutiful has asked me. I know that Civil Bresinga suspects it. And I hate it. I hate that people in the keep look at us, and wonder what you do to your servant at night.’

At my harsh words, he shuddered and then swayed, like a sapling that feels the first blow of the axe. When he spoke, his words were faint. ‘We know what is real between us, Fitz. What others may wonder about should remain their issue, not ours.’ Slowly he turned from me, ending the discussion.

I almost let him go. It was such a long habit with me, to accept the Fool’s decisions on such things. But suddenly it did matter to me what others in the keep gossiped about, what Hap might overhear as a crude jest in a Buckkeep Town inn. ‘I want to know!’ I suddenly roared at him. ‘It does matter, and I want to know, once and for all. Who are you? What are you? I’ve seen the Fool, I’ve seen Lord Golden, and I heard you speak to that Jek in a woman’s voice. Amber. I confess that baffles me most of all. Why would you live as a woman in Bingtown? Why do you allow Jek to go on believing you are a woman and in love with me?’

He did not look at me. I thought he would let my questions go unanswered, as he so often had before. Then, he took a breath and spoke quietly. ‘I became Amber because she most suited my purpose and needs in Bingtown. I walked amongst them as a foreigner and a woman, unthreatening and without power. In that guise, all felt free to speak to me, slave and Trader, man and woman. That role suited my needs, Fitz. Just as Lord Golden fulfils them now.’

His words cut right to my heart. I spoke coldly what injured me most. ‘Then the Fool, too, was only a role? Someone you became because it “suited your purpose”? And what was your purpose? To gain a doddering king’s trust? To befriend a royal bastard? Did you become what we most needed in order to get close to us?’

He still was not looking at me, but as I gazed at his still profile he closed his eyes. Then he spoke. ‘Of course I did. Make of that what you will.’

His words were like spurs to my fury. ‘I see. None of it was real. I’ve never known you at all, have I?’ I expected no answer as for an instant I strangled silently on my anger and insult.

Then, ‘Yes. You have. You more than anyone in my life.’ He looked down now and stillness seemed to grow around him.

‘If that is true, then I think you owe me the truth about yourself. What is the reality, Fool, not what you jest about or allow others to suspect? Who and what are you? What is it you feel for me?’

He looked at me at last. His eyes were stricken. But as I continued to gaze at him, demanding this knowledge, I saw his own anger come to life there. He suddenly stood straight and gave a small huff of disdain, as if unbelieving that I could ask. He shook his head then drew a deep breath. The words rushed out of him in a torrent. ‘You know who I am. I have even given you my true name. As for what I am, you know that, too. You seek a false comfort that I define myself for you with words. Words do not contain or define any person. A heart can, if it is willing. But I fear yours is not. You know more of the whole of me than any other person who breathes, yet you persist in insisting that all of that cannot be me. What would you have me cut off and leave behind? And why must I truncate myself in order to please you? I would never ask that of you. And by those words, admit another truth. You know what I feel for you. You have known it for years. Let us not, you and I, alone here, pretend that you don’t. You know I love you. I always have. I always will.’ He spoke the words levelly. He said them as if they were inevitable. There was no trace of either shame or triumph in his voice. Then he waited. Words such as that always demand an answer.

I took a deep breath and managed the elfbark’s black mood. I spoke honestly and bluntly. ‘And you know that I love you, Fool. As a man loves his dearest friend. I feel no shame in that. But to let Jek or Starling or anyone think that we take it beyond friendship’s bound, that you would want to lie with me is—’ I paused. I waited for his agreement. It did not come. Instead, he met my eyes with his open amber gaze. There was no denial in them.

‘I love you,’ he said quietly. ‘I set no boundaries on my love. None at all. Do you understand me?’

‘Only too well, I fear!’ I replied, and my voice shook. I took a deep breath and my words grated out. ‘I would never… do you understand me? I could never desire you as a bed partner. Never.’