Dream of Me/Believe in Me

taking her followers with her. With them gone, the mood in the solar seemed to ease although Krysta wasn't sure whether she only imagined that. Certainly, she was far more relaxed.
    With the men busy elsewhere, the ladies took their midday meal together. For the first time, Krysta found herself enjoying the company of women. She remembered how Hawk had teased that she would feel better when shecould “sit around, do needlework, gossip …” and how annoyed she had been, only now to find the experience very different. Over the meal, the ladies talked about the stories Krysta had read, drawing parallels to their own lives and laughing as they did so. Some of the women were nicer than others, some wittier, but she could see something to like in each of them … now that Lady Esa was no longer among them.
    But she would be back and no doubt she would continue to make herself as unpleasant as possible. The thought of Hawk marrying such a woman filled Krysta with dread. He deserved so much better, truly he should have nothing less than the perfect wife. Once she had foolishly hoped to be that, and would still, had love not placed such a burden upon her conscience. But surely she would not make so wrenching a sacrifice only to see him wed to a cold, hard woman unlikely to ever love anyone save herself.
    Yet again, Krysta caught herself on the verge of tears. All her emotions seemed heightened, pain and pleasure vying equally, and she seemed fated to swing between one and the other. No wonder she felt vaguely nauseated, as though the meal she had eaten did not sit comfortably on her stomach. Eahlswith looked at her just then and frowned.
    “My dear, are you not well?”
    “I am … that is, I thought I was.” A wave of dizziness swept over her. She shut her eyes for a moment, hoping that might help, but it did not. The queen leaned over and put her hand on Krysta's, a mother's touch, gentle but firm. “Your skin is clammy. Did you eat anything else today besides what we just had?”
    Krysta shook her head. “There was no time. I slept late and then—”
    Several ladies giggled suddenly and looked abashed.
    A few even blushed. The queen sent them a sharp, admonishing glance but it was too late, the damage done. Krysta paled.
    “You really do not look well, my dear,” the queen said. She stood up and signaled to several of the maids. “Come now, you are going back to your quarters and we will see what can be done to make you more comfortable. I'm sure there is nothing to be concerned about but this is the season when such upsets are more common.”
    Grateful for any excuse to leave, Krysta stood up and was instantly assaulted by a fresh wave of dizziness. Still, she managed to walk with a little help from the maids. “Please don't disturb yourself,” she entreated Eahlswith. “I will be perfectly fine.”
    “Of course you will be, my dear,” the queen said. “But I am coming with you all the same.”
    Brushing aside any further objections, Eahlswith accompanied Krysta back to her quarters, saw her comfortably settled in bed, and insisted that she sip an infusion of chamomile. Krysta did so simply as a courtesy, but within a few minutes she had to admit she was feeling better.
    “I can't imagine what came over me,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I am never ill.”
    “I would say you have had a great deal to cope with of late. That can be unsettling.”
    The queen's sympathetic understanding touched Krysta greatly. She who had never known the love of a mother realized that Eahlswith must be a very good one.
    “Your children are very fortunate to have you to care for them, my lady. As is your husband.”
    Eahlswith looked surprised by the compliment and very pleased. “Thank you, my dear. I have sometimes felt that I do not keep up well enough with all the grand and exciting doings here at court but then I console myself that my family is well and happy.”
    “I can think of no greater accomplishment than that,” Krysta said honestly.
    “One I am sure you will shortly know.”
    She was overly tired and still feeling ill. Her mind spun in confusion and her heart felt near to breaking. Perhaps that was why she could not repress the soft sob that broke from her as she turned her face into the pillows.
    At once, Eahlsworth clucked in alarm. She gave a quick order, sending the maids from the room. When the door closed behind them, she held out her arms. Krysta went into them without a second