“It is precisely because of who you are that this is more than a misunderstanding.” Patience launched back into the topic, as if I had never dared interrupt. “If you were just Fedwren’s apprentice, or a stable hand, then you would be free to court and marry however you wished. But you are not, FitzChivalry Farseer. You are of the royal blood. Even a bastard”—she stumbled slightly on the word—“of that line must observe certain customs. And practice certain discretions. Consider your position in the royal household. You must have the King’s permission to marry. Surely you are aware of that. Courtesy to King Shrewd demanded that you inform him of your intention to court so that he might consider the case’s merits, and tell you if it pleased him or not. He would consider it. Is it a good time for you to wed? Does it benefit the throne? Is the match an acceptable one, or is it likely to cause scandal? Will your courting interfere with your duties? Are the lady’s bloodlines acceptable? Does the King wish you to have offspring?”

With each question she posed, I felt the shock go deeper. I lay back on my pillows and stared at the bed hangings. I had never really set out to court Molly. From a childhood friendship, we had drifted to a deeper companionship. I had known how my heart wished it to go, but my head had never stopped to consider it. She read my face plainly.

“Remember, too, FitzChivalry, that you have already sworn an oath to another. Your life belongs to your king already. What would you offer Molly if you wed her? His leavings? The bits of time that he did not demand? A man whose duty is sworn to a King has little time for anyone else in his life.” Tears stood suddenly in her eyes. “Some women are willing to take what such a man can honestly offer, and content themselves with it. For others, it is not enough. Could never be enough. You must …” She hesitated, and it seemed as if the words were wrung from her. “You must consider that. One horse cannot bear two saddles. However much he may wish to …” Her voice dwindled off on the last words. She closed her eyes as if something hurt her. Then she took a breath and went on briskly, as if she had never paused, “Another consideration, FitzChivalry. Molly is, or was, a woman of prospects. She has a trade, and knows it well. I expect she will be able to reestablish herself, after a time of hiring out. But what about you? What do you bring to her? You write a fair hand, but you cannot claim a full scriber’s skills. You are a good stable hand, yes, but that is not how you earn your bread. You are a Prince’s bastard. You live in the Keep, you are fed, you are clothed. But you have no fixed allowance. This could be a comfortable chamber, for one person. But did you expect to bring Molly here to live with you? Or did you seriously believe the King would grant you permission to leave Buckkeep? And if he did, then what? Will you live with your wife and eat the bread she earns with the work of her hands, and do naught? Or would you be content to learn her trade, and be a help to her?”

She finally paused. She did not expect me to answer any of her questions. I did not try. She took a breath and resumed. “You have behaved as a thoughtless boy. I know you meant no harm, and we must see that no harm comes of it. To anyone. But most especially to Molly. You have grown up amidst the gossip and intrigues of the royal court. She has not. Will you let it be said she is your concubine, or worse, a Keep whore? For long years now, Buckkeep has been a man’s court. Queen Desire was … the Queen, but she did not hold court as Queen Constance did. We have a Queen at Buckkeep again. Already, things are different here, as you will discover. If you truly hope to make Molly your wife, she must be brought into this court a step at a time. Or she will find herself an outcast among politely nodding people. I am speaking plainly to you, FitzChivalry. Not to be cruel to you. But far better I am cruel to you now than that Molly live a lifetime of casual cruelty.” She spoke so calmly, her eyes never leaving my face.

She waited until I asked hopelessly, “What must I do?”

For a moment she looked down at her hands. Then she met my eyes again. “For now, nothing. I mean exactly that. I have made Molly one of my serving women. I am teaching her, as best I can, the ways of the court. She is proving an apt student, as well as a most pleasant teacher for me in the matters of herbs and scent making. I am having Fedwren teach her letters, something she is most eager to learn. But for now, that is all that must be happening. She must be accepted by the women of the court as one of my ladies—not the Bastard’s woman. After a time you may begin to call upon her. But for now it would be unseemly for you to see her alone, or even seek to see her at all.”

“But I need to speak to her alone. Just once, just briefly, then I promise I’ll abide by your rules. She thinks I deliberately deceived her, Patience. She thinks I was drunk last night. I have to explain….”