“My Lady?” The young, high voice interrupted Ermina’s moping. She grimaced. Even her inner monologue knew the truth.

  She was moping. Left to watch the keep while Ethan was out there doing something! Anything! Anything other than these same old walls and same infuriating people!

  She grit her teeth, reminding herself that it was only for a while longer, then, as her arm brushed against the small but growing belly bump, had to reassess. That was going to be for quite some time longer! But soon she’d at least get out of this damn Stone and enjoy the breeze!

  “My Lady?” Livia repeated, hesitantly, her cute brown pigtails peeking out along with a pair of large eyes, while the rest of her hid behind the door frame.

  “Ohhh! Get in here, child.” She sighed and softened her tone. “Don’t slouch so. Chin up, yes? Hands clasped at your waist and back straight. Good. Now, try again.”

  “Yes My Lady. Magister Blake will be by for your check-up and regular Tabula game in an hour and Brewer Jocundus respectfully begs an audience with you.” Her mind immediately drew up the image of a rotund, small-mouthed figure of a man. Supposedly a talented tradesman, and the Gods knew they needed professionals… but he was also a wine-soaked sot when they had wine, and an inveterate complainer when they didn’t. The dregs Ethan had harvested from a guard house on his cross-empire trip, and with the guards glad to be rid of him.

  That Jocundus. Her eye twitched.

  “He claims it’s a matter of great import.” The young girl offered, her voice petering out beneath Ermina’s glare.

  A glare she quenched as soon as she noticed the reaction. It wasn’t Livia’s fault that she was in a bad mood, and she’d not become the sort of noble who took their poor humor out on the staff!

  “I’m not mad at you, dear. It’s just not a great day.” She motioned the girl over and gave her a gentle hug. Kissing the top of her cute little head as she spoke.

  But what was true for the girl was as true for the nave outside. Just because he was a problem, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t occasionally be right.

  Maybe.

  “Send him in, and Lucianus with him.” The Guard would make sure he stayed polite. Or be right handy in throwing him out if this was yet another one of his complaints.

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  She moved to a chair and sat perched on its forward edge, ensuring her fur-lined dress hung just so.

  A moment later, the curtain was pushed aside and the man in question entered, followed quickly after by an armed and armored Hastati, the guard taking a step to the side and keeping the wall at his back while the former took a further two steps into the room, before offering a particularly dreadful salute. Fist to belly, not chest, and even that had so little dignity in it that it made her already tender stomach spin beneath her.

  She stared at him for several long seconds. Watching as he fidgeted and twitched beneath her gaze. Her decidedly unamused gaze.

  Dammit. She forced a deep breath. “You wanted something, Goodman Jocundus?”

  “Ah, that is My lady. I, um, that is.”

  “Oh, spit it out man.” She snapped and a second later wanted to slap herself. Was this the control of a noble woman?

  “Relax please, I don’t want this to take all day. Just lay it out.”

  “Ah, Yes. I haven’t been able to practice my trade My lady-“

  “I’m aware.” She interrupted. The entire Stone was aware!

  “But-“ he rushed to follow on. “-I’d like to change that! I can work hard My Lady. I can!”

  “On what, Brewer Jocundus? We’ve no grain for you, and certainly no grapes. You’ll just have to wait for harvest. We’ll find something for you to do till then, don’t worry about that!” It would do him good to lose a few more pounds. Even the rather spartan winter hadn’t fully managed the feat. Maybe hard labor would?

  “You don’t have to!” He blurted, his hands waving in denial.

  “Oh, but right now I very much want to.”

  “Find something, I mean.”

  “I know what you meant.”

  “No, My Lady. I mean I can practice it right now! Or not now exactly-“ Her hand was rising to signal Lucianus when the words started to penetrate. “-but by next week!”

  The hand suddenly became a flat plane. Stopping the soup of words.

  “Repeat that.”

  “By next week.” He offered weekly, his hands wringing his hat.

  “How?”

  “The tree stands My Lady. I saw them. Cutting sure, but also tapping. Birch beer isn’t what you call fine drinking, but it's still beer!”

  “Tree beer?” She mused, somewhat confused, but then it hit her. Not tree beer. Sap beer. The Timberman had sworn the first flush of sap was a welcome change of flavor and even a source of victuals to tide them over till the first blush of spring made foraging possible.

  They’d never said aught about beer.

  “Yes! And thank the gods for it.” He nattered on. “A few more months o’ tea and water and I’d hang myself! It's an awful way to live –“ his mouth kept moving as she stared at him.

  Then it happened.

  She hated it when she did, but couldn’t help it.

  She giggled. The high-pitched sound interrupting the man and leaving both him, Lucianus and even little Livia staring.

  The giggles turned into full-blown laughter as she leaned back in her chair. Only mastering the noise most of a minute later. Then, breathless but smiling for the first time in what felt like days she spoke. “Now we can’t be having that. Not after feeding you through the winter-“ And putting up with his whining. “-not when you’ve offered such a service. Oh no, there will be no hanging in your immediate future master Jocundus. Now tell me about this Birch Beer.”

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