She smiled fondly then, when she said that. "One of my maids, such a little thing, only just sixteen and frailer then all the rest. Used to half sleep through banquets if she had only a little too much. I missed her when she caught the sweating sickness and died." Shaking her head, remembering the girl.

"Is that what they say of me, when I am gone?" That seemed to strike somewhere, muted as everything seemed to be. "I think I should like, being spoken of like that. It's a good legacy. Father would be proud, I hope. I hope he'll forgive me."