The afternoon was stretching thin, sun slowly reaching the first trees, threatening to engulf the domain of Pivert into darkness once more.
At the farms, families and workers alike were still working on sheaves and taking the last cows out of the barn.
Maud was working with her sister and mother on the dough.
Chickens practically walked between their legs.
"Roland has showed up." A worker called from the door.
"Roland!"
And she left her work right there, her sister angry at her for getting that excuse. The farm girl ran out and through the yard, toward the blacksmith apprentice who waited at the gate.
Her arms embraced him, too late for her to realize the flour she had just covered him with.
"Sorry!" She retreated. "Lucky you are already dirty!"
"Lucky I brought a handkerchief."
The boy deployed it before her eyes, a large piece of wool with which he poked his arms before giving it to her.
"You said you lost yours, so I picked a new one."
"That's too much, Roland! Now father will think we are engaged!"
"Look at those hands." He complained, pick them between his and starting massaging her palms. "You have been threshing all day."
She grimaced.
"And churning."
It wasn't a complaint on her part, her whole family was used to hard work. But she liked it when people acknowledged it. She missed the times when Brenin...
Her eyes went sour.
"Word is Brenin went with lord Corentin to Cormoran. He is working for the lords now, that rascal! Who would have believed that."
"He is just a woodcutter!" She protested. "He has no business with the bear!"
"Don't worry, Maud. He said two weeks. That means he will come back for sure."
"What if he doesn't? What if he forgets about us? What if anything happens to him!"
"When has he ever lied?"
Never, she thought, but her heart was no less distraught.
At least Roland was there for her to talk to and sometimes she wished he would be a little more selfish, a little more needy when they met. A friend this faithful made her feel so petty and vain in comparison.
It wasn't her fault to have such feelings. She was not the one who had disappeared overnight after a beast's attack.
And there were so many rumors.
"I need to go back."
He held her before she could leave.
"Not yet. Not until your eyes are firm again."
"You idiot."
"Come on. Sit down a minute."
She obliged, happy to have some warmth and a heart against which to beat. And when he leaned on her she remembered that he too missed his friend.
He, however, distracted her with a completely different anecdote.
"You heard about the beautiful servants?"
"No, why? Are you interested?"
"I've just been told today. We had just gutted the furnace when a merchant's cart passed us. With that merchant was a lady, dressed simply but with such long, smooth hair and such soft skin, no villager could compare."
"Not even me?"
"Hush. That's when Madine told us she was a servant at the castle who had turned into a beauty overnight."
Another unbelievable fantasy, Maud wondered. She didn't know that Madine but from what she remembered, that neighbor was quite old and cynical. She would not buy into rumors that easily.
"Two of them, in fact, had gained this beauty just by picking flowers. All the girls at the village are losing their head over that!"
"But wait," the farm girl noticed, "why would a servant be with a merchant?"
"To marry him, of course."
All the girl had known was her farm, the nearby hamlet, the fields. To her it didn't quite make sense. But Roland had said that with such confidence that she felt dumb.
"Oh, of course. But why a merchant?"
"Well if you were given the choice between a muddy castle full of warriors or the cozy house of a wealthy man, which would you pick?"
"Brenin would be a good warrior." She simpered.
"Or a successful craftsman. Imagine working in his workshop instead of staying behind in a dark room or accompanying him in rainy fields."
It was still hard for Maud to not imagine the castle as the most desirable place to be in. Those stone walls held so much prestige and might, surely the inside had to be the richest home a woman could dream of.
Her childhood had been filled with tales of princesses after all.
"What about the lord? He just let her go, like that?"
"Lord Mercier? He only cares about war. Another good reason to leave that castle the moment you can, if you ask me!"
And he laughed a bit, which made her laugh in turn.
Not that she liked hearing how damp and sad their domain could be, but now she could imagine a wealthy prince taking her away on his mighty steed.
And that prince had brown hair, sadly unkempt.
"You said two servants grew beautiful?" She asked, and he nodded. "Then, the other has left too, or is about to leave?"
"I suppose, sure. Why?"
"Doesn't that mean they'll seek new servants at the castle?"
Roland got up, suddenly worried.
"Oy, Maud! You can't mean it!"
"Why not? Brenin is working for them, I could as well! Imagine me, in a nice cot, serving the lords' meal..."
Her friend was rushing for excuses to stop her, she could see it and see him stumble upon each he could come up with.
What? Certainly Brenin would not be opposed since again, he had joined their service himself. And Roland had just told her how her hands hurt from all the work here.
And if she could become beautiful too, she admitted to herself, if the rumor was true and there was a way... Then Brenin would not leave her anymore...
Then surely he would not close his heart to her.
"Right? Roland?"
And she touched his arm.
"You will help me get work at the castle?"
"I mean, I guess it can't hurt. I just... don't feel good about this."
"You worry too much, trust me! I just have to hurry before someone else gets picked! Oh, Roland, I feel so hopeful suddenly! Let's make it happen, it has to happen!"
"Alright then, tomorrow at the drawbridge then."
She made him promise, then ran a finger under her eyes.
"You see? I'm firm again. Thank you, Roland."
"Good night, Maud."
He left first, before she had time to rush back to the kitchen and finish her work. The sun had sunk to half in the forest, cutting the sky red. If he didn't hurry himself he risked being caught by the night.
But it wasn't to cheer her up that Roland had shared that story.
When the cart had passed, with the merchant and that lady, everyone around him had paused at that beauty. It was so unusual, to see a skin so preserved from hard labor, that naturally all the men's hearts had leaped.
All but his.
He felt bad for having felt nothing. He who dreamt of women had remained indifferent to that pearl and wondered who then could possibly satisfy him.
But his nature was a quiet, passive one, content to do just what others wished of him. One day maybe someone would ask to be with him and he would say yes on a whim, then hold on to that word. That, he was convinced, was his destiny.
It was his fault for having a heart so greedy, aiming well beyond the bounds of reality.