Fool's Fate
— MISSIVE FROM LADY PATIENCE TO QUEEN KETTRICKEN
I knew her at once by her close-cropped head. But there her resemblance to my dream-image of her stopped. The traveling dress she wore was green, cut for riding, and she carried a cloak of sensible brown homespun. Plainly, she saw herself as looking like her mother, for thus she had appeared in my dreams. To my eyes, she more strongly resembled Molly's father but with some Farseer elements thrown into the mix. It was a Farseer gaze that she fixed on me as I emerged, at once dashing my hope that I might walk past her unrecognized. I halted where I stood.
I froze and waited dumbly for what might come. She continued to regard me levelly. After a moment, she said quietly, “Do you think that if you stand very still, I can't see you, Shadow Wolf?”
I smiled foolishly. Her voice was low-pitched, deeper than one might expect in a girl, like Molly's at that age. “I . . . no, of course not. I know you can see me. But . . . how did you know me?”
I wished that Thick had warned me. “And you knew me when you saw me?”
She gave a small hmph. “I recognized the dismay on your face at being found out. None of the other men who have come out gawked at me that way.” She gave me a sideways glance, well pleased with herself, but there were little sparks in her eyes. I wondered if mine looked like that when I was angry. She spoke calmly and competently, just as Molly sometimes used to do when she was storing up fuel for a rage. After a moment's reflection, I decided she had the right to be annoyed with me. I had promised to make myself known to her when I returned. And I had intended to evade that promise.
“Well. You've found me,” I said lamely, and instantly knew it was exactly the wrong thing to say to her.
So I had to give her the name by which I was known when I wore the blue of a Buckkeep Guard. “Tom Badgerlock, my lady. Of the Prince's Guard.”
She suddenly looked like a cat with a mouse between her paws. “That's convenient for me. The Queen said she would have a guardsman accompany me on my journey home. I'll take you.” It was a challenge flung down.
“I am not free to go, my lady.” It sounded like an excuse and I hastily added, “I take over your duties, as you have guessed. I act as go-between for Lord Chade, Prince Dutiful, and our gracious queen.”
“His magic is strong, but he has his limits, my lady.”
“My lady!” she muttered disdainfully. “And what shall I call you, then? Lord Wolf?” She shook her head, exasperated with me. “I know you are telling me the truth. Worse luck for me.” Her shoulders slumped suddenly, and her youth and grief were more apparent. “It is not an easy tale I bring home to my mother and brothers. But they deserve to know the manner of our father's death. And that Swift did not abandon him.” Without thinking, she lifted her hands and ran them through her shortened hair until it stood up in spires and peaks all over her head. “This magic of the Skill has not been an easy burden for me. It has snatched me from my home, and kept me here when my mother needs me most.” Turning to me accusingly, she demanded, “Why did you choose me, of all people, to give this magic to?”
It shocked me. “I didn't. I didn't choose you. You had it, you were born with the magic. And, for some reason, we connected. I didn't even realize you were there, watching my life, for a very long time.”