Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen Blacksmith

Mrs. Patience had been an oddity from a very young age.As a toddler, her nannies found her stubbornly independent and lacking the common sense to take care of herself.One of the babysitters said: "She would rather not tie her lace all day long, because she can't do it herself, and she won't let others do it for her." The courses for girls of her class were exclusively interested in trades that were unlikely to be useful: pottery, tattooing, making perfumes, and growing and multiplying plants, especially foreign plants. She had no qualms about being away unsupervised for long periods of time, and she preferred woodlands and orchards to her mother's yard and gardens.You'd think this would produce a tough, down-to-earth child, but it didn't, and she always seemed to get rashes, scratches, bites, lost her way a lot, and never had a legitimate aversion to people and animals.

Most of her education was learned by herself.She learned to read and count at a very young age, and she read and read every scroll, book, and wooden tablet she came across.Her teachers were frustrated because she was easily distracted and often missed classes, but this didn't seem to affect her ability to learn at all, she learned almost everything quickly and well.Yet she had no interest in putting what she had learned into practice, her head was full of fantasies, poetry and music had substituted for logic and etiquette, and she had no interest in social and coquettish arts. However, she married a prince who wholeheartedly and passionately pursued her. This marriage caused an uproar and became the beginning of his downfall.

"Stand up straight!" I froze. "No! You look like a turkey with a long neck waiting to be chopped. Relax. No, your shoulders should be back, not forward. Your feet are always standing Kicking out like that?" "Ma'am, he's only a boy, and they always are like that, with all the bones bulging out. Let him come in and take it easy!" "Oh, all right. You come in !" I nodded in gratitude to a round-faced maid who returned a dimpled smile.She gestured for me to sit on a pewter bench, but it was so piled up with pillows and shawls that there was hardly room for it.I sat down on one side and looked around Mrs. Patience's sitting room.

It was messier than Chade's room.If I hadn't known she had only recently arrived, I'd have thought the stuff here was the result of years of accumulation.A complete inventory of everything in the room would not describe the scene, for its peculiarity lies chiefly in the effect of its clutter.In an old boot was a feather fan, a fencing glove, and a handful of cattails.A small black dog and two chubby puppies slept in a basket covered with a fur hood and woolen stockings.A group of walruses carved from ivory sits on a wooden tablet that tells about horseshoeing.But the main thing in the room is the plants.Clumps of plump greenery spilled out of clay pots, many teacups and goblets and buckets contained cuttings and cut flowers and green leaves, and vines sprouted from cracked cups missing handles.The failed plants were obvious, bare branches sticking out of pots of dirt.The plants cluttered and crowded every place where the morning or afternoon sun could shine, and it looked as if the garden had poured through the windows and grown amidst the chaos of the house.

"He's probably hungry too, don't you think, Lacey? I hear boys are like that. I think I've got some cheese and rolls on the little table by my bed. Will you bring them to him?" Dear?" Madam Patience stood about an arm's length from me, speaking over me to her maid. "I'm not hungry, really, thanks." I managed to say that before Lacey stood up lumberingly. "I'm here because I've been instructed to report to you every morning, and I'll come as long as you want me to." My remarks have been carefully rephrased.What King Shrewd really said to me was, "Go to her room every morning and do whatever she thinks you're supposed to do so she doesn't bother me. Always make sure she can't stand you like I can't stand her So far." I was amazed at his bluntness, for I had never seen him so distraught as he was that day.When I left in a hurry, it was really easy to come in, and he also looked tired.They both talked and acted like they'd had too much to drink the night before, but I'd seen them both at the dinner table the night before and they weren't drinking and it wasn't a happy atmosphere.Verity ruffled my hair as I passed. "The longer he grows, the more he looks like his father," he said to the scowling Regal walking behind him.Regal gave me a hard look, walked into the king's sitting room, and slammed the door behind him.

So here I am, in this lady's room, and she's walking around me and talking over me, as if I were the only animal that might suddenly attack her or urinate on the rug.I could see this amused Lacey. "Yes. I already know that, because, it is like this, I went to ask the king to send you here." Madam Patience explained to me carefully. "Yes, ma'am." I moved around in the small space, trying to appear smart and courteous.Looking back on the previous times we've met, it's no wonder she thought I was an idiot. There was a silence.I looked around the room, and Mrs. Patience was looking at one of the windows, where Lacey was sitting there, giggling to herself, pretending to be knitting lace.

"Oh, that's right." Like a swooping falcon, Madam Patience bent over and picked up the black puppy quickly.It squealed in surprise, and its mother, displeased, looked up at Madam Patience as he shoved it to me. "This one's for you. It's yours. Every boy deserves a pet." I caught the wriggling pup, grabbing its body before she let go. "Or would you rather have a bird? I have a cage of songbirds in my bedroom and I can give you one if you want." "Uh, no, the puppy is fine. The puppy is great!" The latter sentence is true That pup said it.It was squealing and babbling, and my instinct was to reach out to it, to calm it down.His mother sensed the touch I made with her, gave her approval, and then casually flopped back into the basket to continue sleeping with the other white pup.The black pup looked up and looked me straight in the eye.In my experience, this is quite unusual and most dogs will avoid looking directly at each other for long periods of time.But there is another unusual thing about it, that is, it has a clear consciousness.I've experimented furtively in the stables and most puppies his age have only a vague sense of self, and mostly about mother and milk and immediate immediate needs, but this little guy has a sense of self already, and Very interested in everything that is going on around you.He likes Lacey because she feeds him mincemeat, he is wary of Patience, not because she is cruel, but because she trips over him a lot, and she always puts a lot of effort into it Put it back in after climbing out of the basket.It thinks I smell exciting, and the smell of horses, birds, and other dogs is like various colors in its mind, just images, it doesn't know the shape or actual state of those things yet, but it still finds it very, very interesting.I pictured those smells for it, and it crawled on my chest, sniffing and licking me excitedly.Take me away, take me to see, take me away.

The first week of classes with Patience was difficult for both of us.I've learned to always keep a ray of attention on him so he doesn't get so lonely and howl when I'm not with him, but it takes practice so I feel a little out of focus.Burrich frowned at this, but I convinced him it was because of my lessons with Patience. "I really don't know what that woman wants from me." I told him the third day. "Yesterday was music class. In two hours, she tried to teach me to play the harp, the sea flute, and then the flute. Every time I finally found a few notes, she put me in the hand. She snatched away my instrument and told me to try another one. Finally she said I had no musical talent, and we dismissed the get out of class. This morning was poetry. She started teaching me the song about Queen Heju and her garden Poem, it's a long poem, it's about the bunch of herbs she grows, and what each herb is for. She keeps mispronouncing the sentences until I repeat the wrong sentences At that time, she got angry and said that I must know that catnip is not used for applying, and that I was making fun of her. In the end, she said that I gave her such a headache that she couldn't go on with the class. I was almost relieved. Then I asked She wants me to pick some 'Lady's Hand' buds for her headaches, and she sits up right away and says, 'Look! I knew you were making fun of me.' I don't know how to please her, Burrich." "Why are you pleasing her?" He scowled dangerously, and I dropped the subject.

That night Lacey came to see me in my room.She knocked on the door, then entered, wrinkling her nose. "If you're going to keep that puppy here, you'd better get some aromatic herbs to sprinkle on the ground, and wash it with a little vinegar and water when you clean it up. It smells like a stable." "It's kind of like that," I admit.I looked at her curiously, and waited. "I'll bring you this. You seem to like it the most." She held out her sea flute.I looked at those stubby pipes tied together with thin leather cords, and out of the 3 instruments this was my favorite.The harp had too many strings, and the flute sounded too high-pitched, even for Patience.

"Did Madam Patience give it to me?" I asked puzzled. "No. She doesn't know I've taken it. She'll think it's gone buried in her pile, which happens a lot." "Why did you bring it?" "Let you practice ...and when you get better at practicing, bring it back and play it to her." "Why?" Lei Xi sighed. "Because it'll make her feel better, and it'll make my life a lot easier. There's nothing worse than serving someone as miserable as Mrs. Patience. She wants you to be good at something, she Been testing you, hoping you'll suddenly show some kind of talent so she can show you and tell someone, 'Look, I told you he had talent.' Well, I have a son myself Well, I know boys aren't like that. They don't learn things, or grow taller, or become polite and well-behaved while you stare at them, but just turn around, turn back, and they become Lah, get smarter, taller, charm everyone but their own mother."

I'm a little confused. "You want me to learn to blow this, to make Patience happy?" "So that she'll think she gave you something." "She gave me the blacksmith. Nothing compares to it." Lacey was surprised by this sudden, sincere statement, as was I myself. "Well, then you can tell her that. But you can also try to learn to play the sea flute, or recite a lyric, or sing an old prayer, so that she may understand better." After Lacey left, I sat there thinking, half angry, half sad.Patience wanted me to be successful, felt that I had to find something I could do, as if I had never done or accomplished anything before she came.But as I thought about what I had done, and what she knew about me, I realized that the image of me in her mind must be pretty mediocre.I can read and write, and take care of horses and dogs; I can concoct poison, make sleeping potions, smuggle things, tell lies, and make deceptive dexterous gestures, but it wouldn't please her if she knew about it.So is there anything else I can do besides being a spy and an assassin? The next day I got up early and went to find Federen.He was pleased that I borrowed brushes and paints from him, and he gave me better paper than usual for practice, and asked me to promise to show him the results.I went up the stairs: wondering what it would be like to be his apprentice, surely it couldn't be any harder than what I've been assigned to do recently! But it turned out that the work I had decided to do was harder than anything Patience had asked me to do.I could see the blacksmith sleeping on his cushions, the curve of his back not too different from that of a rune letter, and the shadows of his ears not too different from the pictures of plants I had painstakingly copied from Federen's drawings.But they were far worse, and I wasted sheet after sheet of paper before it hit me that it was the shadows around the puppy showing the curve of its back and the line of its hind legs.I need to draw less instead of more, what my eyes see instead of what my head knows. By the time I washed and put away the brushes, it was already too late.Two of the results are pleasing to the eye, and one I really like, though that one looks soft and fuzzy, more like a dream puppy than real.More like what I feel than what I see, I thought. But as I stood outside Mrs. Patience's door, looking down at the paper in my hand, I suddenly felt like a three-year-old holding a squashed, withered dandelion to give to my mother.What kind of pastime is that for a teenager?If I were really Federen's apprentice, then this kind of exercise would be appropriate, because a good clericalist should not only write well, but also be able to draw and decorate letters.But before I could knock, the door opened and I stood there with paint on my fingers and damp paper in my hands. Boss Patience called me in unhappily, saying I was already late.I said nothing, sitting on the edge of a chair with a scrunched up cloak and half-embroidered embroidery.I put my drawing on a stack of wooden tablets nearby. "I think you could learn to recite poetry if you wanted to," she said, a little gruffly. "So you can learn to write poetry too, if you want. Rhythm and meter are just... Is this painting of that puppy?" It was a mess. She carefully picked up the pieces of paper and examined them one by one. She first took a closer look, and then straightened her arms to look at them farther away.She stared at the blurry one the longest. "Who drew this for you?" she finally asked. "This can't be an excuse for your being late, but this person can draw what the eyes see on the paper, the colors are so realistic, I can make good use of him. All the plant illustrations I have have this problem, All the herbs are painted the same green, whether they grow gray or a little pink. That kind of wooden tablet is useless to learn from—" "I guess he drew the puppy himself, ma'am ’” Lacey interrupted her kindly. "And this paper is really good, better than the ones I've used before—" Patience suddenly paused. "You, Thomas?" (I think this is the first time she remembers calling me by the name she gave me.) "You draw so well?" Under her disbelieving eyes, I reluctantly nodded quickly.She picked up the pictures again. "Your father couldn't even draw a curved line unless it was on a map. Could your mother draw?" "I don't remember her at all, ma'am," I replied stiffly.As far as I can recall, no one has ever been so brave as to ask me such a question. "What, don't you remember at all? But you were already 6 years old at the time, you must remember something—the color of her hair, her voice, what did she call you..." Was the look on her face painful? A hunger, a curiosity she couldn't bear to get an answer? For a moment, I almost did remember something, a whiff of mint, or... gone. "Not at all, ma'am. If she wanted me to remember her, she would have kept me with her, I suppose." I closed the door on my heart.A mother who didn't keep me by her side and didn't even come to look for me. I don't remember her and I have nothing to do to her! "Hmm." I think this was the first time Patience realized she had brought up a difficult subject.She looked out the window at the gray sky. "Someone taught you well." She pointed out suddenly, her expression a little too cheerful. "Fedren." She didn't say anything, so I added, "You know, the court clerk. He wants me to be his apprentice. He is very satisfied with my handwriting, and now he wants me to copy it." His pictures. That is to say, when we have time. I'm usually busy, and he's usually out and busy looking for new paper straw." "Paper straw?" She was absent-minded. say. "He had some paper. He had had several bundles of it, but he was running out. He bought it from a merchant, who bought it from another merchant, who bought it from another man, and so He didn't know where it came from originally, but he was told it was made of crushed grass. His paper was of much better quality than any we could make, thin, flexible, and Not so brittle and absorbs just the right amount of ink, not so much that it blurs the edges of the shapes of the rune letters. Federen said if we could replicate this paper, it would change a lot of things. There it is Good quality and strong paper, anyone can get a copy of the lore from the wooden tablets in the castle. If paper got cheaper, more children could learn to read and write, at least that's what he said. I don't understand Why is he so—" "I didn't know anyone here was interested in this kind of thing." The lady's face suddenly brightened and came to life. "Has he ever tried making paper out of crushed lily roots? I've done that, with good success. There's also a kind of paper made out of the bark of the chinook tree and made into thread, and weaving that thread, Wet and press it into paper. The paper produced in this way is very strong and flexible, but the water absorption effect of the paper surface is not good. Unlike this kind of paper..." She glanced again at the papers in her hand and fell silent.Then she asked hesitantly, "You like that puppy so much?" "Yes." I said simply, and we suddenly looked at each other.She stared into my eyes with that distracted look she always had when she looked out the window.Suddenly, tears welled up in her eyes. "Sometimes, you are so much like him, you..." She choked up. "You should be my child! It's so unfair, you should be my child!" She yelled this so violently that I thought she was going to hit me, but she jumped up and hugged me, while the dog tripped over her and knocked over a vase of green leaves.The dog screamed and jumped up, the vase fell to the ground and shattered, splashing water and debris, and the lady's forehead hit my chin so hard that I couldn't see for a moment.Before I could react, she turned around abruptly, meowed like a scalded cat, fled back into her bedroom, and slammed the door.During this period, Leixi has been weaving lace non-stop. "She's like that sometimes," she said kindly, nodding at me toward the door. "Come back tomorrow!" she reminded me, adding, "You know, Mrs. Patience has quite a crush on you."