Delle gave birth to a girl with a healthy voice in the afternoon. With the baby's grandmother and aunt on hand, and the father hovering nearby, I felt confident to leave the new mother to enjoy her daughter. They all promised to fetch me if something seemed amiss, no matter how small, but the birth hadn't been a difficult one, and I expected no complications to arise.
Meg and I left with my payment filling my skirt pocket. When it poked its head out and chirped, I thought it best to carry the little chick instead, lest it fall out.
"What are we going to do with you?" I asked the ball of yellow fluff.
"It can stay in our room," Meg said, patting the chick's head. "We'll find a box for it."
"And when it grows too big for the box?"
Meg took the chick from me and snuggled her cheek against the soft down. "I don't know, but we'll have to keep it away from my mother." She looked the chick in the eye. "She'll be quite happy to cook you and serve you up at dinner. But I won't let her, I promise."
"She'll leave it alone if it lays an egg every day," I said.
Meg checked the underside of the chick. "How do we know if it's a boy or girl?"
I looked between the legs and shrugged. "My medical knowledge doesn't extend to chickens."
I wished Delle's husband had paid me in ells instead of a chick, but they were struggling to make ends meet, like everyone else, and I couldn't ask them.
We'd been too intent on the chick and not taking notice of our surroundings until suddenly the streets got busy. The dock workers had finished for the day. They streamed toward us in groups, some chatty, some sullen, all looking tired. Some nodded or smiled in greeting, but many were strangers to me.
"Merdu and Hailia," Meg muttered. "It's Ivor. Don't look!"
Too late. I looked and Ivor saw. He trotted up to us, a tentative smile on his lips and a hopeful gleam in his eye. "It's good to see you, Josie. You look real pretty today."
"Thanks." I waited for him to greet Meg, but he simply continued to smile at me. "Meg's here too," I pointed out.
He finally looked at her and nodded a greeting. "Why are you holding a baby chicken?"
"It's Josie's," Meg said. "Delle had her baby,"
Apparently that didn't interest Ivor enough for him ask further questions. "Josie, can we talk alone?" He didn't wait for my answer, but steered me away from Meg.
I jerked my arm free. "We have nothing to say to one another."
"Just listen."
"I have listened to you," I said. "Unless you have something new to say to me, I'm not going to listen to you repeat yourself."
He clicked his tongue and heaved out a breath. If I needed any more proof that I would make an unsuitable wife for Ivor, his frustrated sigh was enough. I was about to point it out when he spoke first.
"I just wanted you to know I'm not friends with Ned Perkin no more. I ain't seen him for days, and I don't want to. I'd rather have honest work." He grabbed my hand tightly, crushing my fingers. "My job at the docks is secure. I can support us both now."
I pulled my hand free. "Stop doing this, Ivor. I don't care whether your job is secure, or how much money you make. I'm not going to marry you."
He crossed his arms and scuffed his toe against the edge of a raised cobblestone. He looked more vulnerable and contrite than I'd ever seen him. I almost felt sorry for him. "You used to like me, Josie, but everything changed between us when I became friends with Ned Perkin. I don't see him no more, though. I promise, I want nothing to do with him." He reached for my hand again, but I stepped away. He swallowed heavily. "You got to believe me, Josie. Me and Ned are no longer friends. He's going to bring trouble down on his head, and I don't want that. I want to be a good man. For you."
Part of me wanted to walk off without another word. If he thought the only reason we weren't together was because he associated with Ned Perkin, he was a fool. But he was right in one respect. We'd known each other a long time. We may not have been close, but we had grown up together. The way he'd treated me recently, however, dampened any sympathy I felt for him now.
"Whether you are friends with Ned or not is irrelevant to me," I said, moving out of the way of other pedestrians. "I have no feelings for you, Ivor, nor will I ever. I've told you before, I would rather never marry than marry someone I don't care about."
He dashed the back of his hand across his mouth. When it came away, his lips were white from pursing.
"What kind of trouble is Ned making?" I asked to fill the silence. "Is he up to something?"
He lifted a shoulder. I turned away and strode off.
"The captain won't marry you!" he called out. "He's hiding something. All the palace servants are."
Passersby stared at him then turned to me. Some shook their heads or rolled their eyes, while others muttered agreement. Meg took my arm in hers and we headed off together.
Ivor followed. "You can't trust people who keep secrets." He sounded close. Too close.
Before I could turn to confront him, he'd grabbed my shoulder and wrenched me around to face him. His breaths came hard and fast, and he bared his teeth. He wasn't a big man, but he looked fierce in that moment. He was also unpredictable. I regretted ever feeling sorry for him. He didn't deserve sympathy.
"Let her go!" Meg snapped at the same time I pushed his hand off.
"Why won't you listen!" he cried. "There's something wrong with the servants. They ain't…" He let the sentence dangle, merely shrugging his shoulders to explain himself.
"Aren't what?" I asked. "Aren't real? That's ridiculous, Ivor. You shouldn't listen to rumors."
"They ain't like us," he finally finished.
I shook my head, both in disagreement and disappointment. "That's your reason for not trusting the servants? That they're not from Mull?"
He shrugged again.
Meg transferred the chick to one hand and poked Ivor in the shoulder with her finger. "That's so typical of you. You and many others in this backwater. I didn't know I lived in the same village as so many hate-filled people."
"We ain't filled with hate," he shot back. "We're just scared. Scared of losing our homes, our jobs, our wives."
"Those of you with homes won't lose them," Meg told him. "Nor will anyone who already has a job, unless you take too many breaks or do poor work. And if a man's wife strays, then it's his own fault for not keeping her happy. Come on, Josie. Don't waste another moment talking to him." She spun around and marched off, ignoring the stares. Some of those who'd heard her looked impressed, others bemused. I'd never been prouder of her.
I lengthened my strides to catch up to her. "That was a rousing speech," I said.
"I have strong opinions on the matter," she said. "In fact, my opinions grow stronger by the day. The more I get to know the guards, the more I like them. The Vytillians are mostly good people too, despite a few bad ones. Marnie and her husband are kind, decent folk. It's not their fault The Rift destroyed their livelihoods. I'm sure they wish they were back there now instead of subjected to hate from Mullians."