Free Nobody's Lady by Amy McNulty Page A

“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
    As she stood to refill her plate herself, I cleared my throat, my gaze drifting to the large gaps between us I’d left for Jurij, Sindri, and whatever other Baker boy felt like joining us. My hand dug into Bow’s fur. I’d been looking forward to seeing the look on Jurij’s face when he saw our surprise canine guest, but now I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until the whiny, selfish man who’d moved in with me was replaced by the kind and caring boy who’d never spared a thought for himself.
    But you were the one who felt it only right to give men their freedom.
    “I like this ale,” said Master Tailor, taking a swig from the mug I’d served Alvilda’s and Siofra’s gift in. “Alvilda, did you get this from Vena?”
    Alvilda slammed her plate so hard on the ground beside her, I thought for a minute I’d served her meal on glass instead of wood. “All right. We’ve waited long enough.” She bolted upright. “I’m going to search the entire village, I’m going to knock down doors, I’m going to find that lazy, ungrateful—”
    “Alvilda!” Both Siofra and her former husband spoke the name at once, one pleading, even angry, the other so surprised, it was a wonder he was able to keep a grip on his mug.
    Alvilda whipped around, first to face her wife and then to face her brother. She didn’t seem to notice Luuk slinking down beside her as if hoping he could vanish entirely into the ground.
    “No. This is ridiculous. I thought last week, when he dined at our house, that his plan to join the quarry workers would snap some sense into him, but that was just at Noll’s urging, wasn’t it? Leaving this entire meal to Noll, continuing to encroach upon her hospitality.”
    Despite my own irritation at the man who was the topic of her tirade, I started to feel protective, even defensive in the face of Alvilda’s overreaction. “He hasn’t been encroaching. He’s been going to work every day.”
    Alvilda’s boiling hot gaze fell on me. “Don’t tell me he’s been doing the minimum of what’s expected of him like it’s some accomplishment.”
    “It is an accomplishment.” I jumped to my feet, staring her down across the fire. “Alvilda, don’t you think you’re being too hard on him? You didn’t say a word against him for doing nothing with his days before the curse broke.”
    Alvilda thrust her arms across her chest. “Things are different.”
    “Things are different. You can’t just expect men to pick up their lives like nothing’s changed.” My gaze fell on Master Tailor and Luuk. “Tell her,” I said, as if my experiences put me in the position of acting like some translator between men and women. “Tell her things are different.”
    Siofra set her plate on the ground. “She knows that, Noll. She just wants what’s best for our sons.”
    “ Our sons?” The clatter of the plate on the ground beside me was enough to rival a dozen glass plates smashing. Master Tailor stood, his finger pointed at Alvilda. I’d never seen the man so angry. Granted, I’d never seen his face before the curse had broken, but I never imagined the features behind the owl mask he so often wore could contort so wildly. “Jurij and Luuk are my sons. Mine and Siofra’s.” He patted his chest with his fist. “And the two of you might have tried to forget I existed all of those years—”
    Siofra gasped, standing. “We never!”
    Alvilda put a hand out to stop her from crossing around the fire to get nearer to him.
    “You always .” Master Tailor’s voice grew so deep and troubled, Bow woke from her nap emitting a low growl. Master Tailor paused, the lump on his throat shaking visibly as he swallowed. “It was always the two of you, from the start. I had my uses, but I was nothing to you.”
    “That’s not true.” I’d never heard Siofra’s voice so unsure.
    “No, it is true.” Master Tailor shook his head. “I may have been too stupid to be