Flame of Sevenwaters by Juliet Marillier

conversation. I sat beside her, calm and still, making sure I gave every appearance of enjoying myself. I would not let her know that I was already restless and longing to be out of doors.
    Time passed. Rhian finished her hem and Orlagh offered her a shirt to mend. With the torn garment in her hands, Rhian looked over at me suddenly. “Oh, but perhaps I should do this tomorrow,” she said. “Lady Maeve, didn’t you promise you’d take your brother to see Swift this morning?”
    I suppressed a relieved smile. Later, I would thank her for saving me. “How could I have forgotten? I should go now or he’ll be disappointed. Rhian, stay here if you wish—I won’t need you for a while.” I rose to my feet. “Mother, where will I find Finbar at this time of day?” I hoped she would not say Finbar was closeted with his tutor and unable to do anything so frivolous as visiting the stables.
    My mother’s look was somewhat quizzical, and I realized I had underestimated her powers of observation. “I can’t tell you,” she said with a little smile, “but I know Nuala’s making honey cakes this morning, and both my son and his tutor are extremely fond of cakes. You may find them in the vicinity of the kitchen. Their lessons are conducted in the little room next to your father’s council chamber—you remember, where the scribe used to work.”
    “Used to? What happened to him?”
    “Luachan is very skilled. He took over those duties when he came to teach Finbar. Of course, such a little boy does not need formal lessons all day.”
    “A man of many parts,” I said mildly. “Luachan, I mean.”
    “All children ask questions,” Deirdre put in with a smile. “That’s what one expects. But Finbar asks questions all day. Luachan is a good teacher for him. I’ve noticed druids generally answer questions with more questions.”
    “Finbar missed Eilis terribly when she first went away,” Mother said. “Sibeal, too, though he was younger then. A child does not like to see his world change. Sibeal had a particular understanding of him. Luachan has similar insights. And he keeps Finbar occupied. My son is best not left too much alone.”
    This intrigued me, but I would not ask her to explain further in this company. “Luachan seems a courteous man,” I said. “I’d best go now, Mother. Rhian, you could come and find me at the stables when you’re finished here. There’s no rush.”
    “Maeve.” Mother spoke as I turned to leave.
    “Yes, Mother?”
    “I hope that in time you’ll sit with us in the dining hall for your meals. Rhian can sit at the family table and help you, if that is required.” After a moment she added, more quietly, “But I understand you may feel a little awkward about it, and of course it can wait until you’re ready.”
    A strange anger stirred in me. Never mind that this was exactly what I wanted, time to feel my way in my parents’ house, time for their people to get used to me. Mother did not know me. She could not know what I wanted. She had sent me away, and I had comehome a different person. It wasn’t kindness and understanding that made her say these things, but embarrassment. She didn’t want her claw-handed daughter at the family table, making an exhibition of herself before the fine guests who had stayed on after Conor’s ritual.
    “No need to wait,” I heard myself saying in a voice that carried beyond my mother and sister to the circle of women, all of whom were busily pretending not to be listening. “I’ll be happy to join you this evening. I will need Rhian. Please ask them to make a place for her beside me. Without her help, I don’t eat tidily.”
    “You sat at the family table in your aunt’s house, then?” Mother’s voice was full of words unspoken, hurts that had been nurtured over those ten years.
    “I was there a long time, Mother. Of course I sat at the family table. It would not have occurred to Aunt Liadan to do things any other way. Now, if you’ll