Ilona woke that morning without too much discomfort, and though her toes were cold and her fingers somehow colder, the straw was not an uncomfortable bed. It was the first touch of the sun on the wall above her that must have woken her, some kind of involuntary reaction to the fact that she now needed to wake early or face punishments like the one she had already endured. There was no use in trying to fight it anymore, she knew that, and so something now pulled her awake just at the moment that she needed to be.

It was not soon enough, however, as she looked over to Wasp and saw him still sleeping, but then to the door to see an unfamiliar face peering in at her. She sat up quickly, trying to ensure that she looked decent and that there was no risk of anyone misunderstanding what they were doing together in the stall. Whoever it was there opened a door and stepped inside, and with his back now no longer to the sun she realised that she did recognise him after all. It was the head groom, a man in his mid-thirties called Pheasant who had been born on the estate and served her grandfather before she was even thought of. She felt another sense of shame at the fact that it was he who had found her, reduced to sleeping on straw, when it was also he who had helped her into carriages and onto her horse for the whole of her life.

“What have we here?” he asked, though his voice was not unkind – simply questioning.

“I’m sorry, I was not to sleep in the house tonight,” Ilona stammered quickly, getting to her feet and dusting off her uniform. “I’ll return now to await my orders. I will not be in your way.”

Pheasant made a strange sound in the back of his throat, halfway between a grunt and groan. “I’m not trying to clear you out, miss,” he said. “Just surprised to find you with Wasp, that’s all.”

Wasp was awake now too, looking between them for an opportunity to cut in. He found it then, speaking up to defend her. “I offered her shelter last night from the cold, that’s all,” he said. “She slept over there, like a lady.”

“I’m sure she did,” Pheasant said with a smile, though it was not as wide or expressive as the smiles that Wasp usually wore. It was somewhat tight lipped, and there was a tension in him still that had not gone away.

“I should go, all the same,” Ilona said, gathering her blanket to her. “I was instructed to wait by the door.”

She was almost gone when Pheasant raised his voice again, calling out with an almost reluctant tone, “Miss?”

She looked back at him, pausing in the doorway to the stall, wondering what he could want. Though he had been nothing but a casual enquirer so far, she could not help but feel the fear that he was about to punish her for something that she might have done, perhaps sleeping in the stables or taking the apple.

“There’s something I ought to tell you,” he said, though by the look on his face it was something that he did not want to say.

She turned back slightly, facing him fully again, wondering what on earth could cause him to feel so awkward about whatever it was that he had to say. “What is it?” she prompted gently, seeing that he would not speak again unless he was made to do so.

He licked his lips as if to prepare them for the words that would come over them, then looked up to meet her eyes. “It’s about Griffin,” he said, at last, and the words hit her like a wave. “He ran. I sent him towards the city. I took his identity band so that they would think he was too far away to catch. What I’m saying, you cannot share with anyone, or it’s my head for the block. I just wanted you to know that he got away at least as far as the end of the estate, though what became of him then I do not know.”

Ilona paused for a few moments, taking this idea in and turning it over in her mind. “Thank you,” she said at last. “For telling me, and... For helping him. I am glad you helped him get out.” She turned again and went back towards the house, feeling for the first time a strange sense of calm that seemed to have washed over her at some point during the night and settled now with Pheasant’s words.

She had not been waiting long when Swallow emerged from the house, clutching a dry bread roll in one hand which she forced into Ilona’s with a furtive look around. “Molly’s still raging about the stockings,” she said. “I think Lord Breckenridge gave her a hard time about it. She wants you to go to the fields today, to assist the farmhands. That means taking them water and food at the right times, carrying a few small things around for them, and making yourself useful anyway that you can. I know they’ve not made it easy for you so far, but Molly no doubt knows that too, so don’t let this be the punishment that she thinks it is. Don’t let them get to you.”

Ilona nodded, though it was easier said than done, and quickly started to eat the bread roll, though the rough and hard exterior hurt the inside of her mouth a little when she tried to chew it. She could see the farmhands now, making their way along the path that led to the fields, With the bread roll gone she brushed her hands off on her apron and started to follow them, taking one last grateful look back at Swallow for the advice and the food.

She hurried as she knew that she was supposed to, but the pain in her feet combined with the reluctance to face them kept her behind them all the way to the fields, and it was only when they reached the storage shed which held their tools that she managed to catch up. The sun had fully breached the horizon now, and they collected the items that they needed to get to work right away. It was Marten who turned and noticed her first, and for that she was almost grateful – he did not react or say a thing, except to nod slightly in acknowledgement of the fact that she was there. Then, inevitably, Jed and Cornmouse turned and saw her too, and the grin that spread over Jed’s face was enough to make her wish she was back in the stables, even if she had to share them with a horse.

“Come to join us then, little lady?” he asked, clearly immensely pleased by the prospect. “Come to wait on us for the day?”

She nodded, trying not to rise to his bait, but knowing that to stay silent might be even worse of a move to make. “I’m to assist you all today.”

Jed moved closer to her, carrying a scythe in one arm, bringing it over to her and somehow changing it from a threat into an innuendo. “You can assist me all you like, little lady,” he said, extending a hand to touch the side of her face with his fingertips. Behind him, Cornmouse and some of the other farmhands chuckled, enjoying the show that he was putting on for them.

“You can start by taking a look inside the storage shed and making sure that everything looks as though it is where it is supposed to be,” came another voice, interrupting them and setting Jed into a backwards movement that took him into the ranks of the other farmhands again. Hedgehog was the name of the head field hand, and Ilona remembered seeing him before when he had come to report to her father about the state of the latest harvest. He was older than the rest of them, with greying hair though he could not have been beyond his late thirties, and though he was short and somewhat stout, his arm muscles were huge, the result of a lifetime of working in the fields. He had a calm authority which had all the farmhands standing in line right away, ready to face the day’s work with him at their command.

Ilona sketched a tiny curtsy and hurried away into the storage shed, glad that he had intervened. She had had no plan for how she was going to deal with Jed, and the thought made her uneasy. Would there come a time when there was no Swallow or Hedgehog to save her? What would she do then? She did not want to think about it, and busied herself with tidying the shed instead. There were a few things out of place, though some of them she could not move herself; smaller pieces of machinery or tools were easy enough, even though the small trowels had handles that seemed impossibly heavy, but some things she just was not strong big enough to move by herself. She left them where they stood, and once everything else seemed as though it was in the right place, she went back outside to see if she could find Hedgehog and find out what her next job would be.

“I should think the lads will be happy of some water now,” he said, shading one hand over his eyes to look out in the winter sun and survey them all, pausing in his own work. “Try to be patient with some of them. They do mean well, but they forget sometimes that the way they joke together ain’t the kind of joking that a lady might enjoy. Jed, he’s trying to establish power so that when I’m too old to work here he’ll be the next. You just have to ignore him in the meantime.”

Ilona nodded, though she was uncertain that she really believed that there was nothing malicious in the way that Jed acted towards her. She went back to the storage shed and fetched some water skins that she had seen there, then went to the well which stood beside the path to draw up a drink that they could all share. She filled the skins from the bucket and went around to all of the field hands one by one, having to refill them twice before everyone was satisfied. For the most part, they took the drink from her in silence, though a few thanked her, and Jed of course offered her a suggestive look which ran a shiver down her spine.

The rest of the day played out in much the same way; she brought the water when they needed water, went back to the house for a wheelbarrow full of food at midday so that they could eat their lunch, brought buckets and pieces of twine and even bandages when they needed them, and avoided Jed just as much as she could for as long as she could. Finally, the sun went down, and in the last dying rays of light they packed all of their equipment back into the storage shed, unable to work anymore in the darkness. Ilona stumbled along behind them as before, cursing the blisters on her feet and wishing that she had another pair of shoes to wear to lessen the discomfort.

She was only halfway back to the house when she looked up and realised that Jed was standing in front of her, alone, the rest of the group having moved ahead further. She almost stopped dead when she saw him, wishing that she did not have to get past him, but there was nothing for it. If she wanted the evening meal and the chance to sleep in a bed tonight, she had to. As she passed by him, limping, she tried to look straight ahead and not acknowledge the fact that he was there in case it triggered him to do something.

“Little lady,” he said quietly, pitching his voice so that only she could hear it. “I can help you with your feet, if you wanted.”

She looked at him, wondering what kind of new trick this was, but his face was serious. His normal manner was gone completely it seemed, and after a moment she stopped as well so that she could reply to him. “You can?”

“Aye. We’ve all had them. You just need more padding,” he said, moving closer to her in the darkness. “I’ve some scraps, bits and pieces of things that fell apart. I will lend you something until they heal, if you wish.”

She nodded uncertainly, and he smiled – not the lecherous smile that he normally reserved for her, but a real one. “Come on then, little lady,” he said. “Back to the house.”