Irenis sits politely on the bed while the healer prepares her artifacts. She’s been in the healer’s ward once or twice to deliver a message or a package, but Master Calon made sure she never got too hurt while training. She remembers a lot of papers framed on the walls and awards in glass cases, and she never got to go farther than the waiting room.

This healer’s ward looks a lot less cluttered. There are beds laid out in neat rows with curtains hanging from each. The curtains are trimmed with a different color for each bed. That would make sense in a triage situation.

The healer, a tall, thin woman with bright orange hair in a ponytail and round thin-rimmed glasses, finishes setting up her artifacts and turns around. “All right, Miss Irenis. Do you happen to know your medical history?”

Irenis glances frantically at Dame Tamnet, who’s looking very hard at something out the window. Surely she didn’t get rousted out of bed for a pop quiz? “Um, well, the modern form of medicine was established in the third emperor’s reign—”

“Oh!” The healer giggles. “No, no, I mean your personal medical history. What injuries or illnesses you’ve had, and whether you’ve been inoculated against various childhood diseases.”

Irenis kicks her heels against the bedframe. “Do the inoculations cost money?”

“Yes? If you’re noble and can pay for it, I mean?”

“Then no.” Irenis stills her feet with an effort. “The Casmenocs didn’t like wasting money on me, and I’ve never been really really sick.” Colds, yes, but never the flu or smallpox or plague.

Dame Tamnet clinks. Irenis glances over to see what that was. Must have been her coinpurse.

The healer has a Bad Look on her face. Irenis ducks her head. “I’m sorry.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at the Casmenocs.” The healer picks up her first artifact, a round topaz amulet with silver wire wrappings and an emerald held in the center. “All reinforcements sent are required to have their inoculation spells updated before they’re sent out. I’m not sure why you’ve been sent here right now…?”

Dame Tamnet won’t look at them. “I’m making up for something I should have done well before now.”

That makes no sense! Why would she be responsible for Irenis’s inoculations?

“Miss Irenis?” The healer holds up her artifact. “Please hold this for twenty seconds.”

Irenis takes it and nearly drops it. It prickles unpleasantly, like grabbing a motchlid chrysalis. The sensation moves like one, too. “Are these usually refreshed around Winternight?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

That explains what her cousins and half-siblings kept throwing fits about. If Irenis were allowed to drop it, she would.

“That’s twenty seconds.” The healer takes the artifact away and gives Irenis a deep purple stone with specks of blue throughout. “Please hold this one for ten seconds.”

“Why do they have different timings?”

“Good question!” The healer claps her hands together. “It’s because due to the causes of the illness, the spells have to be modified to attack the precise source.”

Neat!

A huge commotion starts outside. Irenis waits to be handed the third artifact, a red triangle edged in gold, before she peeks out the window.

There’s a bunch of the Casmenoc knights, Gurstel among them, all getting shoved out the main gate with their horses. Irenis swallows. “Is there an attack?”

“The bells aren’t going off, so I don’t think so. You can give the artifact back now.”

“Oops.” Irenis hands it back.

“No harm done. Dame Tamnet, any idea what that’s all about?”

Dame Tamnet looks at Irenis, for some reason. Her stomach swoops. Then Dame Tamnet looks up at the ceiling. “I believe it was because Gurstel was boasting about attempting to assault Irenis.”

Irenis’s knees go weak. She knew Gurstel would assault grown women, but her? Why?

“I ran her here to keep her out of his reach until I could find someone to protect her more permanently. It’s… the least I could do, after turning a blind eye to the breaches of honor.” Dame Tamnet sighs. “I’m going to find Jacryn. He’s the only knight among our troop with true honor.”

The healer nods. “I will keep Gurstel out if he comes for her.”

“Thank you.” Dame Tamnet hesitates at the door. “And Irenis? I’m sorry.” Then she leaves.

Irenis blinks. “Why is she apologizing to me?”

The healer scoops her up and puts her back on the bed. “Because it’s the adults’ job to make sure children grow up healthy, happy, and safe, and it appears that the adults in your life have done an extremely poor job of that.”

“But Master Calon!”

“I’ve heard of him. He’s the only adult besides Jacryn that I believe has done right by you. His good does not make up for anyone else’s breach of duty.”

Running footsteps herald one of the squires appearing at the door. “Lady Bealuen wants to speak to Irenis, but she’s not in trouble.”

Irenis swallows nervously anyway. “Where’s Gurstel?”

“He and everyone who turned a blind eye to him have been sent off on their assignments early. They’ll get their updated inoculations at their squadrons.”

The healer nods. “Good idea, considering where Lady Irenis is.”

“I’m not a lady.”

Irenis’s protests fall, as usual, on deaf ears. The healer says briskly, “Well, then, if we’re certain that Gurstel is out of the castle, Lady Irenis should go see Bealuen.”

The honorifics are wrong! The inoculation amulets are terrible! Irenis was in danger the whole journey! Nothing! Makes! Sense! She is going to throw a tantrum if things don’t start making sense!

But she can’t risk throwing a tantrum. Who knows what punishments the Veriths would cook up for such a breach of decorum? Irenis sucks in her breath and holds it until she’s calmer. “I will go see her ladyship.”

The squire escorts her through the castle up to the master suites on the north side of the castle. They’re covered in the same sort of art style as the bath mosaic and there are cloths with square patterning hung on the walls like tapestries.

Lady Bealuen is waiting at a small table with a few chairs. Irenis drops into a curtsey. “You asked for me, my lady?”

“Please go ahead and sit.” Lady Bealuen pulls out a chair for her.

Irenis, seeing no other option, sits down and watches Lady Bealuen through her bangs. Her golden eyes are truly terrifying.

“Let me lead by reassuring you that you are not the one in trouble.”

“I didn’t doubt you, my lady,” Irenis lies.

“The ones in trouble are Sir Gurstel, who bragged about his cruelty and attempted to harm you; the knights who egged him on in doing so; and the knights who turned a blind eye to his gross misconduct. By refusing to take a stand and stop him from harming a child, they have betrayed their duty as adults and as knights to protect children and innocents. Does that make sense?”

Kind of. But then wouldn’t that mean Aulan was in the wrong when he turned away? Oh, no, wait, all of Irenis’s other cousins are also children. Of course they get some slack, they’re young. “Yes, my lady.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Lady Bealuen reaches out and Irenis flinches. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Look, here are my hands on the table.”

Irenis looks obediently. Lady Bealuen has her hands splayed flat on the table, and it would be difficult for her to adjust to retrieve a weapon from her current position. “I see them, my lady.”

“Good. Now then, I mentioned that adults have a duty to protect the children around them. This is called ‘duty of care,’ and is doubly true when the child has no parents to ensure their well-being.”

Irenis nods.

“The Casmenocs, however, have breached their duty of care by instructing you be sent to the ramparts. Children are never safe in warfare, even if the enemy is monsters and not people. It’s up to me, as the adult to which you have been sent, to protect you, as a child.”

I’m a sword master, though.

“So you will be staying at the castle for the time being.”

“I understand, my lady.” Privately, Irenis is very excited to keep getting fruit before training. It’s so sweet!

—

Jacryn wakes to the sun streaming into her eyes. She curses and debates whether she can risk staying in bed. She did report Gurstel to Lady Bealuen, but who knows how fast the Veriths move when it comes to matters off the battlefield?

She sits up and stretches. Then she gets up to do her hair.

What she told Lady Bealuen was technically true: she did grow up as a daughter, and she was hiding as a man for her own safety. Her parents easily accepted her deciding, as she grew up, that she no longer wanted to be a boy. Her village, not so much. Jacryn has never been addressed as “Dame” outside of her childhood house.

But here are hair ribbons on her dresser. A note in clean, thin handwriting reads A reward for your honor and courage, Dame Jacryn.

Jacryn sniffles as she weaves a pink and a white ribbon into her braid of the day. The colors go quite perfectly with her hair. Then she rubs her eyes and sets off to make sure that her charge is safe.