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be for me until Verity returned。 The illusion of power clung to me now； and too many would be dazzled by it。
I went to my own chamber and； with great relief； changed into sensible clothes。 As I tugged on my shirt I felt the tiny bulge of Wallace's poison； still sewn into my cuff。 Perhaps； I reflected bitterly； it would bring me luck。 I left my room and then mitted possibly my most foolish act of the evening。 I went up to Molly's chamber。 The servants' hall was empty； the corridor but dimly lit with two wavering torches。 I tapped at her door。 There was no reply。 I tried the latch softly； but it was not fastened。 The door swung open at my touch。
Darkness。 Emptiness。 The small hearth held no fire。 I found a bit of a candle and kindled it at a torch。 Then I went back in her room and shut the door。 I stood there while the devastation finally became real。 It was all too Molly。 The stripped bed； the hearth swept clean； but with a small stack of wood set ready for a fire for the next resident： Those were the touches that told me she had tidied herself out of the room。 Not a ribbon； not a taper； not even a scrap of wicking remained of the woman who had lived a servant's life here。 The ewer set upside down in the basin to keep the dust out。 I sat in her chair before the cold hearth； I opened her clothing chest and peered within。 But it was not her chair； or hearth； or chest。 These were just objects she had touched in the brief time she had been here。
Molly was gone。
She wasn't ing back。
I had held myself together by refusing to think of her。 This empty room jerked the blindfold from my eyes。 I looked into myself and despised what I saw。 I wished I could call back the kiss I had placed on Celerity's fingertips。 Balm for a girl's wounded pride； or the lure to bind her and her father to me？ I no longer knew which it had been。 Neither could be justified。 Both were wrong； if I believed at all in the love I had pledged to Molly。 That one act was proof I was guilty of all she had charged me with。 I would always put the Farseers ahead of her。 I had dangled marriage before Molly like bait； left her with no pride in herself nor belief in me。 She had hurt me by leaving me。 What she could not leave behind was what I had done to her belief in herself。 That she must carry with her forever； a belief that she had been tricked and used by a selfish lying boy who lacked even the courage to fight for her。
Can desolation be a source of courage？ Or was it merely recklessness and a desire for self…destruction？ I went boldly back downstairs and went directly to the King's chambers。 The torches in the wall sconces outside his door annoyed me by spitting blue sparks as I passed。 A little too dramatic； Chade。 I wondered if he had treated every candle and torch in the Keep。 I pushed the hanging curtain aside and entered。 No one was there。 Not in the sitting room； not even in the King's bedchamber。 The place had a threadbare look to it； with all the best things taken away and carted off upriver。 It reminded me of a room in a mediocre inn。 Nothing left here was worth stealing； or Regal would have left a guard on the door。 In a strange way； it reminded me of Molly's room。 Here there were objects left； bedding； garments； and the like。 But this was no longer my king's room。 I went and stood by a table； in the exact spot where I had stood as a young boy。 Here； while Shrewd breakfasted； he had quizzed me astutely on my lessons each week； and made me aware； every time he spoke to me； that if I was his subject； he was also my king。 That man was gone； stripped from this room。 The clutter of an active man； the boot trees； the blades； the scatter of scrolls had been replaced with censers for burning herbs and sticky cups of drug tea。 King Shrewd had left this room a long time ago。 Tonight I would take away a sick old man。
I heard footsteps and cursed myself for my clumsiness。 I slipped behind a hanging and stood motionless。 I heard the murmur of voices from the sitting room。 Wallace。 That mocking reply would be the Fool。 I ghosted from my hiding place to stand just inside the bedchamber and peer through the make shift curtain。 Kettricken sat on the couch beside the King； talking with him softly。 She looked weary。 Dark circles smudged beneath her eyes； but she smiled for the King。 I was pleased to hear him murmur a reply to whatever she had asked him。 Wallace crouched on the hearth； adding sticks of wood to the fire with excessive care。 On the other side of the hearth； Rosemary had collapsed in a heap； her new dress bunched up about her。 As I watched she yawned sleepily； then heaved a sigh and straightened herself up。 I pitied her。 The long ceremony had left me feeling exactly the same way。 The Fool stood behind the King's chair。 He suddenly turned and stared directly at me； as if the curtain were no barrier at all。 I could see no one else in the room。
The Fool turned abruptly back to Wallace。 〃Yes； blow； Sir Wallace； blow well and hot。 Perchance we shall not need the fire at all； with the warmth of your breath to drive the chill from the room。〃
Wallace did not rise from his crouch； but turned to glare at the Fool over his shoulder。 〃Bring me some wood； would you？ Not a stick of this will catch。 The flame runs along it well； but the wood does not burn。 I need hot water if I am to make the King his sleeping tea。〃
〃Would I bring wood？ Wood？ Would I？ Wooden am I not； fair Wallace。 Nor would I burn； no matter how closely you huffed and puffed upon me。 Guards！ Ho； guards！ Enter； and bring with you wood； if you would！〃 The Fool leaped up from his place behind the King and capered to the door； where he made a great show of attempting to treat the curtain as if it were a proper door。 At last he thrust his head out into the hall and called loudly again for the guards。 He drew his head back in after a moment and returned to the room with a dejected air。 〃No guards； no wood。 Poor Wallace。〃 He gravely studied the man。 Wallace was on his hands and knees； poking angrily at the fire。 〃Perhaps were you to turn； bow to stern； and blow thus upon the fire； the flames might dance more merrily for you。 Fore to aft； to create a draft； brave Wallace。〃
One of the candles that lit the room suddenly spat blue sparks。 All； even the Fool； flinched to its hissing； while Wallace lumbered to his feet。 I would not have thought him a superstitious man； but there was a brief wildness in his eyes that spoke well of how little he liked this omen。 〃The fire simply will not burn；〃 he announced； and then as if realizing the significance of what he said； he paused； mouth agape。
〃We are witched；〃 said the Fool benignly。 On the hearth； little Rosemary drew her knees up under her chin and looked about with round eyes。 All trace of sleepiness was gone from her。
〃Why are there no guards？〃 Wallace demanded angrily。 He strode to the door of the room and peered out into the hallway。 〃The torches burn blue； every one of them！〃 he gasped。 He drew his head back in； looked about wildly。 〃Rosemary。 Run and fetch the guards。 They said they would follow us shortly。〃
Rosemary shook her head and refused to budge。 She hugged her knees tightly。
〃Guards would follow us？ Wood follow us？ Followed by wood？ Now that's a knotty subject！ Would wooden guards burn？〃
〃Stop your nattering！〃 Wallace snapped at the Fool。 〃Go fetch the guards。〃
〃Go fetch？ First he thinks I am wood； now that I am his little pet dog。 Ah！ Go fetch the wood； the stick you mean。 Where's the stick？〃 And the Fool began to bark like a feist and frolic about the room as if in search of a thrown stick。
〃Go fetch the guards！〃 Wallace all but howled。
The Queen spoke firmly。 〃Fool。 Wallace。 Enough。 You weary us with your antics； and Wallace； you are frightening Rosemary。 Go and fetch the guards yourself； if you are so set on having them here。 As for me； I would have a little peace。 I am weary。 Soon I must retire。〃
〃My queen； there is something ill afoot this night；〃 Wallace insisted。 He glanced about him warily。 〃I am not a man swayed by chance omens； but of late there have been too many to ignore。 I shall go fetch the guards；