Free The Shape-Changer's Wife by Sharon Shinn

groceries, he would go to town alone. And then quite possibly he might stop at the tavern for lunch; it sounded like a pleasant diversion, and a man, after all, must eat. And it would be no bad thing, he thought, for him to flirt with another woman, one who was pretty and lively and blond. He had grown so accustomed to Lilith and Arachne that he was forgetting what ordinary women were like—he was forgetting, even, that they were the strange ones, yes, even Lilith, with whom he found it so easy to spend the greatest portion of his days. She was strange, and she was married, and it would do him good to go to town alone now and then. Perhaps he would not even wait until the next time supplies were low.
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    WHEN GLYRENDEN CAME home two days later, he was filled with a sly elation. Everyone noticed it, but no one troubled to ask what made him so happy. Not until dinner was over did he volunteer his news, lifting his wineglass high as if to toast someone not present.
    â€œLilith, my love,” he said. “Guess where you will be spending the harvest holidays?”
    She looked over at him with perfect indifference. “Here, I suppose.”
    â€œIndeed, no. You and I have been invited to be guests at Lord Rochester’s home. For the week.”
    Lilith merely nodded and turned her eyes back to her empty plate. Aubrey admitted to a feeling of surprise and reluctant admiration. Lord Rochester was the richest noble in the county, the king’s cousin, and a highly influential man. Glyrenden, who had talked of the nobleman often, had long coveted his favor.
    â€œWhat do the celebrations entail?” Aubrey asked.
    Glyrenden turned his fever-bright eyes on his apprentice. “Ah, the usual. Hunting, feasts, balls, musical competitions.”
    â€œI had not realized Lord Rochester was a religious man,” Aubrey said, for in the kingdom where he had been born, only the peasants and devout women celebrated the harvest holidays. There, as here, they were observed at the very end of summer, to thank the gods for a good growing season and to ensure a bountiful harvest to come.
    Glyrenden laughed. “He is not. Far from it. We are pagans here, or mostly. Faren Rochester certainly is. In the eastern kingdoms, the harvest is not a sacred time, but rather a festive one. I think you will enjoy yourself.”
    â€œAm I to go with you, then?”
    â€œBut of course! You are my apprentice, are you not? You must learn how to comport yourself at the house of a noble—for, believe me, when I am done with you, you will be sought after by the wealthiest men on the continent.”
    Smiling, Aubrey replied, “Well, when I was with Cyril, I was in a palace or two. I did not behave so ill then.”
    â€œOld Cyril,” said Glyrenden with a strange inflection, “would never take you to some of the places you could visit with me.”
    Aubrey was unsure of what reply to make to that. “Well, he never took me to Lord Rochester’s,” was all he could think of, but it was good enough; Glyrenden smiled.
    â€œWhen do we leave?” Lilith asked. She was still looking at her plate.
    â€œA week from today. We had best begin packing soon.”
    She lifted her eyes. “I have nothing fine enough to wear to the lord’s balls and dinners.”
    â€œMy love, my angel, you could appear in rags and you would put all the other women to shame.”
    She shrugged and returned her gaze to the table.
    â€œBut as it happens,” her husband continued, “I have anticipated your distress.” In an aside to Aubrey, he added, “Women do so fret over their gowns and their fal-lals.” Aubrey thought he had never met a woman who cared less for her appearance than Lilith; but he did not say so.
    The wizard went on. “I ordered seven gowns made for you when I was passing through town. They will be delivered in four days. You will be clothed magnificently.” And he sat