Page 41 of Songs and Spun Gold
Katy
If I spoke to you, would you remember me,” Katy sang softly before dropping off into a gentle hum as she switched the full bobbin for an empty one. She only had a little flax left to spin, but it would be shearing time again soon. They would make it. It would be tight, but they would make it.
Now if only the price of yarn would increase; she’d barely managed to pay the interest this year, and the remaining principal was enough to make her nervous.
“That’s a…lovely song,” Mother said. Looking up, Katy saw the slightest upward curve of her lips. The fire was crackling behind her, one of the few things Katy could keep at the level she wanted. It meant cajoling her father into spending time with an axe in his hand, but even if he wasted their money at the tavern, he cared about his wife and daughters. He was willing to put out the effort to keep them warm. “Where…did you…learn it?”
Feeling her cheeks redden, Katy looked back down at her spinning wheel to hide it. “It’s from the show Angelika and I saw in the capital.”
“Hmm. And you still…remember it?”
“As you said,” Katy murmured, “it’s lovely. I guess it stuck in my mind.”
And heart…but she wasn’t about to say that.
“Thinking…about Fritz?” Mother’s smile grew. “Is it…tonight…he comes next?”
“Tomorrow night,” she absently replied. She would need to wash her good dress before then; Liesl had accidentally spilled some soup on it two days ago when Katy left the table to meet him. He was too sweet, she thought with a fond smile; instead of being upset by her tardy appearance in an old dress, Fritz had been very understanding. But it was one thing to wear an old dress because of an accident, and quite another when she’d had time to prepare.
“Such a…nice young man,” Mother sighed. Her eyes drifted closed, but the smile on her lips remained.
Returning her focus to her spinning, Katy let her mind play over their conversation. Fritzwasa nice young man. And after three months of walking together, she knew the gossips among the old ladies expected to hear the announcement of their betrothal any day.
Katy rather expected it herself.
As she watched the flax filtering through her fingers, she realized that she’d begun humming again. It was a different song this time, but it was still one Gunther had sung inThe Tanner’s Secret.
For some reason, the flax was getting blurry.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. Pausing the spinning wheel for a moment, she swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s completely impractical. Fritz is a good man, and—and—”
This was the young noble’s fault. If he hadn’t befriended her, she would never have met Gunther, and she would have been thrilled to marry Fritz. But he had, and that had changed everything.
Well, noteverything. She was still going to accept Fritz’s proposal when it came.
Downstairs, she thought she heard the front door open.Katy ignored it until Adele’s voice began to grow louder. Even with the noise from the mill, Katy could hear her sister’s protests rising through the floor. “What are you doing? You can’t—I don’t care, you’re not allowed—Let go of me!”
Katy threw herself out of her seat, grabbing the fireplace poker as she rushed to the doorway. As she scurried down the stairs, the sound of the mill disappeared. Father must have heard enough of his middle daughter’s cries to realize something was wrong. Good – his strong shoulders would be useful.
Then she looked beyond the next step at the sound of another raised voice, freezing at the sight below.
Her father was yelling and gesturing wildly, but he was making no move to eject his antagonists. There were three of them, plus a fourth in the front room with Adele, still shouting. Yet it was not their numbers that kept him from physically throwing them out.
It was the swords on their hips and the dragon crest embroidered on their cloaks.
Slowly lowering the poker, she watched anxiously as her father argued with them. Why were royal guards here? She’d made the required payments!
Sheep have always been the backbone of this community! But what good are they when you can’t spin the wool? For thirteen years, King Steffan crippled us!
“No!” she gasped, barely audible to her own ears. She covered her mouth with one hand, the poker hanging limply from the other. His foolish words must have made it to the king, and now guards were here to drag him away.
He might waste too much of their hard-earned money in the tavern, and he might tend toward loafing more than working, but they couldn’t make it without his help. The guards couldn’t take him!
But what was she supposed to do about it?
“—an outrage! You can’t take her – you have no right!”
“I’m sorry, sir, we have clear orders from the king. Now step aside.”
