Excerpt

Next to the spinning wheel sat a chair, also of polished walnut, and on the stone floor immediately next to it was a pile of straw. I stared at it, puzzled, wondering what on earth that untidy mess was doing in such an otherwise spotless room.

Brow puckered, I turned back to the duke, who had stopped just inside the doorway. "I fear I do not understand."

In this light, I could see that his eyes were a clear grey. They crinkled a bit at the corners as he gave me an indulgent smile. "What is there to understand, Annora? There is the spinning wheel."

"But where is the wool? I see only a pile of straw."

The smile didn't fade. Indeed, it broadened, to the point where it caused a faint little chill to run down my back. "That is what you must spin."

"Spin…the straw?" Once again, I had that feeling of nothing in the world making sense, of words being put together in incomprehensible strings of syllables.

"Yes." The duke crossed his arms and gave me a piercing look. "That is what your father swore you could do."

I began to understand then why my father looked so guilty, so frightened. Deep in his cups, he had probably made some outlandish boast. Only this time, it appeared as if that tall tale must have involved me somehow.

Contradicting one of the greatest men in the land was not something that appealed to me, but I knew I must make some protest in my defense. Speaking carefully, I said, "Your Grace, I fear there has been some sort of misunderstanding. I don't know what my father said, but — "

"He said you were so gifted in weavecraft that you could spin straw into gold. Is this not true?"

Suddenly it seemed as if there was not enough air to breathe, as if all the candles in the room had drawn it away to fuel their flames. I wished I could put a hand out to one of the walls to steady myself, but I stood in almost the very center of the chamber, and the promise of their support was too far away.

Was there any way to escape this nightmare? Most likely not, but I had to try.

I clasped my hands together, and prayed that I looked properly meek and beseeching. "Your Grace, it shames me to say such a thing, but when my father has drunk more than he should, he can sometimes say things that are — well, that are perhaps exaggerations."

The smile disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. "Do you mean to say that he lied?"

"No, no — " I broke off, then shook my head in frustration. "For a lie requires some intent, and I do not believe it is ever his intention to prevaricate. It is more that his tongue can run away from him in the heat of the moment."

"Ah."

That was all Lord Edmar said, but I could see a frown beginning to settle itself on his fine brow. At that unfortunate moment, the king himself appeared at the duke's shoulder. He had been smiling, but as soon as he saw me standing there, and the spinning wheel sitting idle, a scowl to match the one Lord Edmar wore settled on his features.

"What's this?" King Elsdon snapped. "I expected to see you hard at work, my lady."

I opened my mouth to reply — how, I knew not — but the duke spoke first.

"She claims there was some misunderstanding, and that her father misspoke."

"He lied?"

I could not contradict the king. It had taken all my courage to attempt some explanation with Lord Edmar, and I had none left. All I could do was look down at the floor of smooth and polished stone, and wish that it would somehow manage to swallow me up.

But the gods did not see fit to give it that ability, and so I remained where I was, with my king and one of his greatest courtiers staring at me as if I were some kind of particularly loathsome insect that had had the temerity to enter their hallowed halls. Neither of them spoke, and it became clear enough that they expected some sort of reply from me.

Once again, I cleared my throat. "Your Majesty, as I was not there, I don't know what he said. I — "

"Ah, but I was there," Lord Edmar broke in. "One of Baron Levender's more tedious gatherings, as it turned out, but there was one man, a rather common sort, who was having the sort of spectacular losses with the dice that one just had to watch. He made all sorts of claims to Levender's man, the one running the table, and at last said that it did not matter how much money he lost, for his daughter was so wondrously talented that she could verily spin straw into gold."

"And you believed it?" I exclaimed, shaken past caring whether I offended him. "Your Grace, you are a man of the world. Surely you must have known his story was nonsense."

Dark brows drew together. "I will admit that was my first instinct, but then I heard the murmurs, how people were saying that must be the explanation, for a man who lost as much at the tables as he did, week after week, must have a secret source of income. Else, my lady," the duke went on, giving me another one of those steely looks, "your family must surely have been on the street some years ago. Or do you have some other explanation?"

Of course I did not, for my father took care that I would never know the details of our finances. Perhaps it did seem strange to the outside observer that we should manage to go on year after year and suffer such astounding losses, and yet not have to endure any material alteration in our circumstances. Yes, there had been some belt-tightening, but not to the extent where we had to move our residence, or do completely without servants.

I shook my head, since I could not trust myself to speak. My legs had begun to tremble, although I hoped my heavy skirts might hide the evidence of my mounting fear.

The two men exchanged an unreadable glance. Or at least I could not begin to decipher it.

Then Lord Edmar said, tone heavy, precise, "Perhaps you do not understand the rules of the gaming table, my lady. But when a man owes his host a goodly sum, and claims he has the means to provide that sum, he must do so within three days, or all is forfeit."

"All is forfeit"? What did he mean by that? Would they take our house, our meager belongings? Would we at last be compelled to seek sanctuary with my Aunt Lyselle?

Since I said nothing, the duke went on, "I see you do not understand. Because your father claimed that his daughter could spin straw into gold, and placed that claim as surety against his bet, then the debt must be repaid with such. Otherwise…." He stopped there, and seemed to shake his head, as if showing for the first time some concern for my welfare.

The king had no such scruples, however. Eyes narrowing, he said harshly, "Otherwise, the debt will be declared forfeit, and you will both pay with your lives."