CHAPTER 121: ONE GOOD YARN

Seeing that it was noon already, Olivia stood up with a bright smile.

"You don’t wish to stay here all day, do you? If we leave now we can catch a seat near other ladies. Being friends with them will be great."

Jenna didn’t like that idea one bit, but she gave the girl a smile. She knew it was out of kindness, she had suggested. "I’d rather spend a little time in here... but you can go ahead."

The young girl stood up with a nod, making her way towards the door where she paused.

Olivia lingered by the door, her hands locked together as though she had one more thing to say. Jenna waved her away with a soft smile. "Go on. I’ll lie down a while. I need sleep."

The girl sucked her teeth, but with a small bow she finally exited the room. The door closed gently behind her.

Silence.

Jenna sat, folding her hands over her lap. A moment ago the laughter of the young girl had filled the air, now it was only her own breath. She had lied. Sleep was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to leave, she wanted to be with Rhane.

And most importantly, she missed her workers dearly. Those she left back at the Merchant village. Mabel, whom she had promised to help! Jenna had left them behind, saying she would return after making things right. But things had never been right. Her life had spun in turns and jerks like a cart rolling downhill with no reins to hold it.

They would be worried now. She had always returned quickly from her business trips, no matter how far. A week or two at most, and she was back. This time... nothing. Days had piled into weeks, weeks threatening to become months. Did they think she was in trouble? Did they worry for her?

Jenna let out a tired sigh. She pressed her palm against her chest, staring at the table where the remains of the meal sat cold. She had no hunger left. What gnawed her mind was guilt.

Turning her head to the side, her eyes caught the corner of parchment lying beneath a book. A stub of ink and a quill. A perfect coincidence!

Jenna stood up quickly and grabbed the parchment. She needed to write to them and let them know she was fine, also know how Mabel was coping.

Jenna’s fingers moved skillfully on the rough surface, and before long she was done writing. She lifted the parchment after she was done, blowing warm air to dry the ink. She drew back, reading the uneven lines.

The nib scratched, leaving blots where her hand trembled. She folded the parchment gently, pressing it flat with her palm. She didn’t know how long it’d take before it got to them, but it was better than silence. Sealing it with the faint press of her thumb, she nodded in approval.

Jenna leaned back, closing her eyes. Next was how to send the letter. She didn’t deliberate much on that, since Rhane had left with her another Percy that could help if she needed anything.

Rising from her chair, Jenna steadied her skirts, checked her injured palm. She wiped her face, blinking hard just to get rid of the swell tears had caused.

The young man Rhane had left for her had said plainly that if she ever needed to pass word, she would find him in the kitchen.

Jenna trotted quietly along the corridor as she followed the scent of smoke and bread. It was always easy to find the kitchen in any home. The further she went, the livelier the sounds, clatter of pots, the low hum of women’s voices, the crackling of wood.

Reaching the doorway, Jenna pressed her lips so she didn’t slip into a laugh. The young man had taken his role very seriously. Just near the table, there he was with his sleeves rolled, hair damp with sweat, his hands busy kneading dough. He looked up when her shadow fell across the threshold.

"Ah, Lad—," he began but stopped himself immediately. He wasn’t supposed to know Jenna personally. Wiping his brow, he looked around first, seeing that others weren’t paying attention, then walked towards Jenna.

"Did you need something?"

Jenna held out the letter, tucking it into his shirt as fast as she could. "See this delivered, will you? To the place written at the back."

"I’ll see to that, Mistress," he whispered with a bow, turned around, and returned to kneading like nothing had happened.

Jenna didn’t wait around either. She left the kitchen before any attention would be on her. Jenna kicked her feet mindlessly, intending to retreat back to her solitude, when her eyes caught something.

Outside, Lady Rachel and Lois sat together under a shed, knitting side by side. Their heads bent close, while they murmured softly to each other.

Jenna froze. Her instinct was to step back, to turn away before they saw her. Yet another voice within her whispered that it was cowardice. Lady Rachel had been kind, and Lois— well, avoiding her would only make the girl think she had won.

Jenna dropped her hands to her side, her chin tipped and nose high. She had been through a whole lot to be scared by a young woman with golden hair.

Getting closer to them, Jenna cleared her throat and their laughter faltered. Both women looked up, as expected Rachel’s eyes were warm.

"I wished to ask..." Jenna lifted her hand, palm outward, the rough wrap still tied over it. "How may I see it treated? I fear it may fester if left so."

Lady Rachel’s gaze softened. "Come, child. Sit." Her voice carried the tinge of command wrapped in gentleness. She shifted the bundle of knitting from her lap and, without a second thought, pressed it into Jenna’s hands.

"Hold this for me, steady now."

Before Jenna could protest, the woman turned to Lois. "And you, take the other end. Careful not to let it drop, else the whole work unravels."

Lois shot Jenna a glare. Still, she obeyed, grasping the trailing yarn with steadiness.

Jenna sat relaxed, clutching the half-finished piece as she stared at it with fascination. She could feel the young woman staring at her, but Jenna’s expression remained stoic.

Lady Rachel, sure that the two women wouldn’t throw the yarn at each other if she turned, gave them a satisfied nod then quietly walked away.

It was such a simple thing, this strip of knitting, Jenna thought to herself. To hold it wasn’t the problem, but the intentions behind it. Lady Rachel had placed her here on purpose. A test, or perhaps a punishment, forcing her to share the burden with the very woman she most wished to avoid.

Across from her, Lois shifted slightly. "How do you expect to be a wife," she said finally, her voice cutting through the cold silence, "when you cannot even control your temper?"

Jenna lifted her lashes slowly. A smile curved her lips, calm as though she had long awaited this moment. "Slipping off... is quite usual after being with a man," Jenna trailed.

"But if your tongue must bite, at least bite with knowledge."

Lois’s nostrils flared. "I wouldn’t know. I am not married."

"Of course you wouldn’t," Jenna replied softly, as if humoring a child.

Lois smacked her tongue against her teeth, the yarn trembling between her fingers. She drew a long breath, forcing her shoulders to ease. "Then perhaps," she said after a pause, "you are ready to talk about the watchman?"

A sharp, humorless laugh escaped Jenna, her head tilting back. "Talk? About the wishes of unravished, starved women who dream of a tough man’s embrace?" Her eyes narrowed, her voice dropping low. "I do not have the space to wallow where you live, dear," she remarked with disdain, her gaze condescending.

"I already have a man ready to fight for me." Jenna dropped the last bombshell.

The words landed heavy. Lois’s face stiffened, but Jenna caught sight of Rachel returning, carrying a small box with her. With a grin, Jenna pressed further.

"But then," she whispered, her voice dipped in mock pity, "you may keep dreaming. For you do not know what it feels like to be plunged by a real man— one that exists, not one you pray for at night."

Color shot up Lois’s neck. She snapped, yanking the wool tight enough to burn Jenna’s fingers. "Who said I haven’t been with a man?" she barked.

Jenna’s smirk lingered only a second before she let the strand slip. The wool snapped free from her grasp. She winced theatrically, clutching her hand. "Ow... it stings."

Rachel, who had arrived at the same moment, grabbed Jenna’s arm. "Are you hurt, Jenna?" she asked worriedly, peering at the wrapped palm. Then her eyes shot to Lois, sharp as a blade. "I said do not let it fall!"

Lois’s mouth fell open, her hands still caught in the trailing yarn. "It was she—"

"Stop the rubbish!" Rachel snarled, the sound so fierce it cut Lois short.

Lois stood, half trembling, half indignant. Her lips parted, but no word came.

Jenna, meanwhile, leaned back with a faint sigh, biting her lip as though the pain throbbed. When Lois turned toward her, she found not weakness but a half-smirk lingering at the corner of Jenna’s mouth.

Then, with perfect ease, Jenna lowered her eyes and pressed her palm against her chest, wincing once more for show. Rachel clucked over her wound, fussing with the bandage.

Mirth danced in Jenna’s eyes while she feigned anguish. She needed to return the favor the young woman had given earlier, to let her know she wasn’t a poor, helpless, abandoned wife. One good yarn deserved a little drama.