Free Window Wall by Melanie Rawn

could scrape his beard off altogether.
    “It’ll grow back,” was all he said.
    His lack of response, and the shock on Cade’s and Jeska’s faces, had been worse for Mieka than having his lungs ripped out through his nostrils. And he at last understood that he’d simply gone too far.
    By way of apology, he’d behaved himself meticulously through the rest of that Royal Circuit. Eventually Rafe’s beard regained its accustomed splendor. But having to think twice and even thrice about any larks he might dream up cramped Mieka’s style. Truth be told, he hadn’t pranked anyone in a very long time. Life, he found, was exceedingly dull when he had to rein in his sense of humor. And now here was another summer to be spent in the wagon with all his wilder impulses in check—and celibate besides. Something would have to be done.
    Tea and toast, butter and apricot jam—Mieka surveyed the breakfast tray and wished he had a flower to decorate it with. If there’d been a primed withie handy, he could have worked a pretty little nosegay. A real shame it was, that it took someone else’s magic added to his own to produce even the smallest effect. Like that joke he’d pulled at Lilyleaf, visiting the offices of the local broadsheet in a skirt and blouse created by one of Cade’s withies that retained some magic from the night before. Oh, that had been a triumph, that had—he grinned to himself for a moment on his walk upstairs, then sighed and scowled, for Cade had absolutely forbidden him to do the like ever again with magic. That hadn’t prevented him from one of the best stunts of all: showing up at one of their giggings dressed as a woman, and the comical patter between him and Cade that had set the audience to howling with laughter. It had been so much
fun
—and he resolved on the instant to work that trick again, for the benefit of an audience and to take that horrid half-dead weariness from Cade’s gray eyes.
    He woke his wife gently. She blinked a few times, stretched smooth white arms, and smiled up at him from the pillow. Gods and Angels and everything holy, she was beautiful. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Any man lucky enough to be married to this much perfection who voluntarily left it for months at a time was nothing more than a damned fool. And there it was, the central dilemma of his life: He missed her desperately when he was away from her, but when he was with her, he missed his other life just as much. He was tempted to do what Vered Goldbraider had done on the last Royal: send his new wife, Bexan, to various of their stops on the circuit so she’d be there waiting for him and they could have a few nights together while the Shadowshapers performed. But Vered and Bexan had no children as yet, and whereas Jindra would be perfectly happy to spend the whole summer at Wistly—and Mishia would be thrilled to take care of her—he was sure his wife would pine for their little girl. Besides, traveling at an easy pace to Lilyleaf and back in one of Lord Kearney Fairwalk’s carriages was one thing; day after day on the public coach was quite another. It wasn’t as if she could come along in the wagon and snuggle beside him in his hammock each night.
    “All better today?” he asked, setting the breakfast tray on the bed.
    “Oh, yes. I don’t know why riding in the wagon always makes me feel so dreadful.”
    And there was another reason he couldn’t bring her along. The
real
reason, of course, was that none of his partners would stand for it. Lord and Lady forfend that they’d have to watch their language, leave alone abandon sleeping naked on hot summer nights.
    “’Twas a thoughtful thing you did, giving Jez that pillow.”
    “All Jindra’s idea. She helped with the stitching, and only pricked her finger twice, imagine! Is he better?”
    “Mum says so. Mistress Mirdley’s of the opinion he’ll walk with a limp the rest of his life, but then she doesn’t know how stubborn he