Page 17 of Lord of Misrule

“What? Why?” she asked.

Rook cleared his throat. “I’ll find Daegel and wait in the courtyard for you. Rose should already be there by now wondering where I am,” he said, speaking of his wife.

“I’ll join you,” said Raven. “But first I must fetch Jonathon from the smithy.” Raven spoke of her husband. Kit had met the nobles’ spouses yesterday and thought they were kind people. It surprised her that they were commoners who married the nobles of the Blake family. She liked the idea that rules had been broken where true love was involved.

“We’ll be right there,” Kit called after them, but Tolin’s dark gaze made her realize she really wasn’t going. “Do you mean to stop me from attending Mass with my son?” she asked. Parker stayed silent at her side.

“The servants don’t attend Mass during Christmastide,” he told her. “They stay and prepare the meal so it will be ready upon our return.”

“But I’m not a servant,” she reminded him.

“Not normally, but for the duration of your son’s sentence, you are. Now go to the kitchen and find Emeric. He will tell you all that you need to know. I’ve left him with my instructions.”

Kit watched in frustration as Tolin left the great hall without her. This would be the first Christmas that she and her son didn’t attend Mass. An emptiness gnawed at her gut. This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to be.

“So, we don’t have to go to Mass, Mother?” asked Parker with a big smile on his face.

“Don’t look so happy about it,” she scolded. “As soon as we get home you will attend extra Masses to make up for it.”

A big white dog ran across the great hall and up to Kit, jumping on her and licking her face.

“Down!” she commanded, pushing the hound back to the floor.

“Hello, doggy,” said Parker, throwing his arms around the dog’s neck in a hug. Parker giggled as the hound licked his face next.

“Parker, put that dog outside and meet me in the kitchen. I am going to collect Brenna. We have a job to do.”

“I don’t want to work, Mother. I want to play with the dog.” Parker ran around in circles and the dog barked, jumping and playing with him.

“This is your sentence, Parker, and the reason why we are even here. You need to work in the kitchen to make up for stealing.”

“I didn’t steal nothing, Mother. I told you that.”

“Anything,” she said under her breath. “I know, sweetheart. But until we convince Lord Tolin of that fact, I’m afraid we will be nothing more than his servants from now until Twelfth Night.”

“Servants?” asked the boy. “I don’t want to be a servant. I want to go home.”

“Me too,” she said, pulling her son against her, running her hand through his hair. “Me too.” The hound laid down and whimpered, putting his nose between his paws, seeming to feel her sadness.

“This is going to be the worst Christmas ever,” cried the boy.

“Nay, don’t say that.” She held her son to her, feeling like crying. She was now a servant, her son was falsely accused of stealing, her sister was about to birth a child, and they were most likely going to all be homeless soon when she lost her business. How could things get any worse? “Everything will be fine,” she told her son, trying to stay strong even if she didn’t believe it. Something was going to have to change because Kit would not allow her life to crumble like this. She’d worked too hard to have everything taken away from her and would do whatever she had to in order to get it back. Yes, she decided, she would go along with Lord Tolin’s sentence, but he would be sorry he ever brought her here to begin with. Because Kit was going to beat the cur at his own game or die trying.