Iylaine waits

“Baby, it’s time for dinner,” Alred said gently.

“I know,” she said, “I’m just waiting for my Da first.”

He had found Iylaine in the corridor that ran between the towers on either side of the gate. She stood on a chair so that she might peer out through the green glass of the windows and watch all of the comings and goings at the castle – particularly the comings.

“Suppose he’s a little late today. There’s a lot of snow out there. Then you will miss your dinner.”

“I can have some bread and cheese later with him. And supper later.”

“You can do that anyway. If he comes late, you can have a piece of ginger cake while he eats his bread and cheese. I may even throw in some meat for him.”

“But I’m not hungry now.”

“You will be hungry later, and then you will be sorry you missed Cook’s Sunday masterpiece.”

Iylaine wrinkled her nose. “She burnt it. I already smelled it.”

He chuckled. “At least she makes good gravy. You have to grant her that.”

“She has to, to cover up the taste of everything else.”

He laughed aloud. “You’ve either been listening to me, or I’ve hit upon a universal truth as regards Cook’s cooking. Come along, Baby. Suppose your Da simply forgot the days again? It’s hard to count up to seven when you’re wearing mittens.”

“I can do it,” she scoffed, but she jumped down from the chair.

“Not everyone has the advantage of your early education, my dear, although I am aggrieved that you still refuse to attempt to learn to read.”

“Oh, are you going to bother me about Latin again? I don’t want to learn how to read. It’s just boring.”

“Then how will you ever read all of the touching love poems that your many suitors will write to you, Baby mine?”

“They better not. I will just throw them back in their faces, that’s what.”

He laughed again. “My Matilda did the same to me, but wouldn’t you know she kept a copy? You will regret it, someday, Baby, but I am well aware that telling a child he will regret anything someday is only much vanity, and vexation of spirit.”

Iylaine only looked down at the floor.

“Baby, I think you should come eat dinner with us. You can scold your Da better on a full belly. Besides, if he does come late, you may be able to convince him to stay the night. Especially with all of the snow out there. Wouldn’t that be fun? And after you go to bed, I shall get him so drunk that he won’t be able to sit his horse tomorrow either, and we can keep him for two days. What say you, Baby?”

“I wish he would just come now.”

“I know you do, Baby. So do I.” He peered through the window himself for a moment, and then held out his hand to her. She took it with a sigh, and he led her out to the stairs.