“Madam should be resting.”

  It was not so much a reendation as a plea and both knew upon such deaf ears it would fall, Julia silently answering with a small smile. “One should remember that appearance is paramount. As a woman, I ot be sickly nor hose are, by my uanding, the greatest poisons to my legitimacy.”

  Her maid didn’t huff; however, she certainly let out a sigh, those months apart full of worry that had eroded her poise in private. “Is to view an almshouse that important?” she mumbled.

  A titter escaped from the dy. “It is.”

  Two words, such simple words, yet they were enough to sober her maid. “Of course, My Lady.”

  “Gianna is a clever woman. I am sure she will uand with time, if not with effort,” she said, gentle words that fluttered through the carriage. Ohose words were heard, it was as if perfectly timed that the carriage then shuddered to a stop.

  For the moment before the door ened, Julia bowed her head, eyes closed, and took a deep breath. Then, ohe haurned, she looked as poised as ever, a polite smile toug her lips.

  While the city was overall a lively pce, they had e to the western edge, which was her near water nor traffic. A poor pce to farm, the nd marshy and uneven, it had little value upon her iation for it, something which hadn’t much ged even after draining the area.

  However, it now began to serve its purpose.

  “Lady Augstadt.”

  Down upoh, she looked across at a well-built road that simply stretched out towards nothing at present. Turning back, she looked upon the person who had spoken to her: a young man.

  “Mr Meyer, let us not waste our time.”

  He held himself tall with a notebook under his arm and he wore a bnk expression that appeared unkind. However, she knew him well. He was the cousin of a baron under her and the sed son of a ndowner who could support a modestly prestigious lifestyle. At gatherings, she had heard of his mother’s worry that he wouldn’t marry, someone who didn’t socialise well.

  It was certainly true that he had a queerness about him. Rather than callousness which paraded as hoy, though, she uood him as someohout the ination to learn the rules to the little games people liked to py. He had such a preference for books, that, to speak with him, one should endeavour to be as iing as a good book.

  So she had personally reended him, along with others, when it came time to expand the courts. Although Meyer had little of the personability of a judge, never mind w with the accused uhe stresses of a trial, he had a mind for tracts and a tenacity about their w which ground down opposition.

  The kind of wyer she liked to retain for overseeing her building projects.

  “Very well,” he said, bowing his head, then lifted it as he turned around ahe way inside.

  It was a simple yout with this ground floor mostly taken up by a kit at the bad a general room in the front. Her gaze followed the brick walls until she came to the arra of spinning wheels and looms, along with faces unfamiliar but for one. Six women and twenty-odd children, some still babes, as well as someone from the textile guild.

  She spared them all a momentary smile before her attentiouro Meyer. “Well, it appears that everything is as it should be.”

  “Pray i everywhere before saying so, My Lady,” he said, opening up his notebook. “I would not wish to sign off on the work only for a defect to be found.”

  “Sir need not doubt himself in his appraisal,” she said, her tone light-hearted.

  Although she said that, she did not make to leave and instead walked over to the spinning wheels. They were, in a sense, crude, g the usual refihat turned raw materials into furniture.

  However, that crudeness was not to be mistaken for shoddy work.

  Her gaze traversed the bits and bobbins of it, not quite uanding, yet knowing already that these designs produced a yarn petent to be used for more than rags. A meism allowed oo turn the rge wheel with a foot, the wheel itself bao spin smoothly and with a fortable weight. A tight loop of thin rope attached that wheel to a smaller part where the actual “spinning” happened, albeit a meism which she still couldn’t prehend.

  She had, in her own ability, searched widely on this topic, from the purchase of a variety of such devices from across the try and its neighbours, to obtaining prints of works by such thinkers as da Vinci. Her efforts then fed into those carpenters like Jacob, people of inds, in the hope some incredible thought would emerge.

  The truth, so far, had proved disappointing, albeit what she had prepared herself for. While iy could be imagined, it also had to be implemented. At the least, these devices still marked progress toals that went far beyond this almshouse.

  Oher hand, the looms were of less io her. It was already the case that as many as ten spinners could be o supply a skilled weaver, so she simply wished for a reliable design that avoided strain. While others apparently did not care, she would rather have workers who could work, especially sirain necessarily affected the most productive and experienced workers.

  Like the spinning wheels, the almshouse itself was an experiment which worked towards a goal far beyond the project itself. To others, it appeared wasteful; to her, it was necessary.

  Despite his work with her before, Meyer very much fell into the “others” category and, despite their differen status, felt free to voice his thoughts on this matter ohey had ied the kit and the bedrooms upstairs. “My Lady, especially now that I see it pleted, I ot help but think this awfully… extravagant for an almshouse.”

  He also saw no issue with saying su front of those widows and their children who now lived here. In truth, she saw in their eyes a certain agreement with him, a kind of shame. For those with little left, pride might well have been all they had left. At least, that was how she could rationalise it, very much separated from their situation by a vast, inprehensible distance.

  Her gaze zily turo him. She her fixed him with a heavy stare, nor criticised him. Instead, she gave a small smile, not quite patronising, but ohat emphasised a certain distaween them.

  “When my mother passed, my father gathered what talented midwives and doctors he could,” she said, her voice gentle even as it filled the room. “He wahem to share their skills and knowledge. However, one doctor questioned why he should divulge his secrets to his petitors….”

  She left those words hanging in the air and now pinned him with a look, f him to ask, “What did Lord Augstadt reply?”

  “What good does a dead babe do for anyone?”

  It was a sentence which, with every thought, beat louder in his head.

  Once she had given that answer a moment to soak in, she tinued. “I am not someone who would be half-hearted with good deeds. Bricks will st much lohan wood. Not only that, but they shall keep in the heat better. This is but one aspect, yet it means that those who live here shall live more fortably, and it means I would not o supply as much firewood.”

  She paused a moment, her lips settling into a smile, then added, “God is good, that being generous in one’s passion is rewarded.”

  In particur, she felt rather certain that, with the spinning wheels and looms avaible to them, the building would end up profitable. Of course, it would take a long time to pay back the cost of stru; however, the experieself had intangible value—which would show in the rapid expansion of the area with simir buildings.

  Before she devoted more resources to that, she did wish to see whether the families would cope well in this situation. While each family had their own bedroom upstairs, it was unal downstairs, which she hoped would develop a kinship between them, but ceded that it may end up causing fri.

  How she would evaluate that, well, someone from the guild would have to e along to supply fibres to spin and purchase spare cloth and lend ao any grievances.

  With the visit finished, he led them out. On their walk to where her carriage waited with a few guards behind it, she said, “Would sir apany us to the pce?”

  “It wouldn’t be proper, My Lady,” he said, still fag forward as he bowed his head.

  She let out a gentle ugh. “Sir need not think too much, that there is a seat beside the driver.”

  He faltered in his step, otherwise showing none of his embarrassment, his voice level as he replied, “Very well, then.”

  Upon reag the road, her maid, careful not to be seen as rushing, eagerly helped her mistress up into the carriage. The moment the door closed, Julia’s strength gave and her maid almost fell, suddenly in charge of holding up her mistress.

  “Madam—”

  “We have one more stop, that is all,” Julia whispered.

  Her maid stilled for a moment, then helped her mistress sit.

  “My make-up will o be tidied.”

  “Yes, My Lady,” her maid whispered back.

  The carriage then jerked into motion and the sound of horseshoes on brick kept the sileweewo at bay, apanied by occasional groans and creaks. Meanwhile, her maid first carefully wiped her mistress’s face—fling at the first touch, finding the skin so hot—and the a while longer holding a cold cloth to her mistress’s forehead. Too soon, she had to stop to apply fresh make-up and it had to be thicker than usual, the colour colder, hiding the heat from her mistress’s cheeks.

  Upon finishing, she panicked for a moment, so close, yet uo feel her mistress’s breath. Only when her mistress’s hand rose did she settle—and then that hand touched her cheek, gentle.

  “Gianna is too kind to me.”

  “What is My Lady saying?” she whispered, her lips quirked with humour. “What kindness is there in a maid serving her mistress?”

  “Kindness is not diminished for being do of obligation, nor is it diminished for being pelled. Otherwise, we would have to excuse cruelty under such circumstances, yet we know in our hearts how God would judge us.”

  The gentle smile Gianna held froze for a moment, then took an ironic air. “Indeed, we know how God shall judge us,” she whispered.

  Julia’s fingers pressed into her maid’s cheek before she took back her hand. “God is good, otherwise He would not be God.”

  Words weaker than whispers, yet Gianna heard them clearly, always heard every word her mistress had to say. “My Lady is good too.”

  She let out a breath of ughter. “That is not fianna to say,” she whispered.

  “I’ll say it anyway—to anyone and everyone and even God.”

  A smile lingered on Julia’s lips until, finally, she again said, “Gianna is too kind to me.”

  Silenketed them for the rest of the short trip, the loud silenetal horseshoes on brick. However, the moment the carriage once again shuddered to a stop, Julia looked as poised as she always did.

  Down from the carriage, she looked over at the busy site. What had—during the grand bazaar four years ago—been a pany of a dozen men, now numbered at least a hundred from what she could see, no doubt more elsewhere, whether on break or handling other matters.

  That was not to say she expected the pany to now do ten times the work. No, she was very aware that some things could be done in half the time when shared, while other things took twice as long. So it was the case that she expected the pany to instead handle jobs much bigger than before.

  Before them, it was as if a giant cup had e down and cut through the side of a gentle slope and scooped away the dirt. That had been the easy part of the project. crete was not unknown; however, no one here could be called an expert. It was by no means a difficult challenge. No, this was simply something whieeded some learning first—hence why she set this project to them.

  A stage about ten strides across, with around ten rows of seating that would arc around it. Most of the stru would be huge sbs of crete stacked atop each other with some trivial work to protect the audiend the actors from rain. She had requirements and irusted the pany to produce a reasonable result while learning how to work with crete on this scale.

  This was something that could have been made from brick; however, it would have taken signifitly longer and required more skill. More skill to pce, more skill to produce the bricks, more skill to transport the materials.

  Yes, bricks served her well. She thhly uood them and made good use of them. Now, she wao uand how crete could serve her as well as it did the A Romans.

  Meyer stepped over to her side. Although he sighed without making a sound, she heard its echo in how he spoke. “This has progressed within My Lady’s expectations. Several is have brought about deys; however, if the rate of deys tinues as it has so far, it would still be pleted a before the deadline.”

  “Have there been any signifit injuries?” she asked.

  His expression froze, the breath he had prepared for further rep now held for a moment while he reanised his thoughts. “That is not something My Lady need worry about.”

  “It is precisely the sort of thing This Lady need worry about,” she replied, a heat to her words that, to him, prickled. However, that was the extent of her heat and she tinued in a moderate tone. “Deadlines are simply things we have made up. These people are what I care most about, that they have a growing experience which ot be easily bought.

  “So I do wish to know if there have been signifit injuries, and I wish to know that they have been suitably pensated, and that, if possible, they are retaio share their knowledge with those who would repce them.”

  A calm response, unhurried, quiet, that none who gnced over would have had any notion of something amiss—except if they knew him well. He was not oo fidget, certainly not in pany like hers, yet his hands found no position fortable.

  “Have there been any signifit injuries?” she asked.

  He bowed his head for a beat before lifting it back up. “One of the new hires has had difficulty with a hand after it was crushed by a wheelbarrow. I’m not aware of any other… sting injuries. Most of the is have been mudslides ht or during heavy rains, so no workers were involved.”

  She listened along and saw o press him further. If he did not uand her wishes after she had made them quite clear, it was her own fault for misuanding him as someone who didn’t need every instru to be entirely explicit.

  This pany o be the one where the best builders iy wished to work. Of course, she wasn’t strictly in charge of the pany; however, a generous, prestigious t certainly held a certain sway.

  “Does sir know why I chose this pce?”

  Her question hung in the air, taking him a moment to both hear it and to respond. “I presumed My Lady already had ownership of it or that it was the cheapest pce by the city where such a sizeable area could be purchased.”

  She let out a titter, her hand over her mouth, before she the out a sigh. “Sir should know that I am not strained by such matters. Rather, I chose here specifically because I wished for our builders to gain experieh holding back earth.”

  A frown touched his brow, mouth thin.

  That was irely an answer nor was it inteo be. After all, when dealing with him, it was important to pique his i lest he grow bored.

  “What use is such experience?” he asked, not dismissive, but curious.

  So she met his curiosity with a frankness. “han survival,” she said, a whisper for him aloo hear. “ons shall only grow in power and hat every army would have hundreds if it could afford. However, while they may knock down walls, I have yet to see them knock down a hill.”

  Silence followed but for the noises of stru, the hundred-odd men chatting and grunting and groaning as they went about their work.

  “My Lady thinks such thoughts are necessary?” he asked, not chiding, but again curious.

  So again she replied with frankness. “It is easy for others to covet wealth and I intend fstadt to be a pce easily coveted,” she said.

  That was all she o say.

  pared to the “why” of this project, the “what” had always been sedary to her; however, not oo be wasteful, she had carefully sidered what exactly made the most sehe “what” she had settled on was a theatre. It was not to be a work of art suitable for the nobles, not at this stage, the pany inexperienced with the struaterial.

  However, like the school, it could serve an important role in “bringing up” the oners. A building like a Greek amphitheatre and a bit of patronage would go a long way. Something sturdy, a mark left upon the world.

  “Does sir have an i in stru?”

  After a sed, he replied, “It would be wrong to say I have found overseeing these projects dull.”

  “Indeed, sir has a keen awareness of what is going on which goes beyond the simple requirements of ensuring the tracts are being followed,” she said, the fiden her tone enough that he didn’t even sider denying it.

  “My Lady is correct,” he said.

  Her gaze sed the area until she came upon a man in particur. As if feeling her gaze, that man happeo turn at that moment and so rushed over, one hand on his hat to keep it from falling off.

  He was a rge man with a perpetual grin, half-hidden behind a beard thinned by scars. However, his dirt-stained clothing fit well, every tear invisibly stitched. She knew him well and she knew better his wife and oldest daughter, both members of the textiles guild.

  Before he could eve her, only managing to bow, she said, “Look after Mr Meyer,” and no more.

  Holding his bow, he quickly wice, then stood up straight.

  She turo Meyer. “There is o say sir is petent in reading Latin, so I would offer sir some prints I have gathered which were written by A Romans oopics of stru. Look after Mr Holzer.”

  He bowed his head. “Of course, My Lady.”

  With nothing else to say to either man, she dismissed them with a gesture and immediately turned back to her carriage. Her maid was there to help her inside and to catch her as her strength gave once muided to the seats, Julia tugged at her own nee, desperate to let in even a little more breath and to let out a little more heat.

  Her maid said nothing, but dutifully wiped away the make-up a a cool cloth to her mistress’s forehead.

  “Gianna, I hope we live to see how important today was,” she muttered, a distao her voice.

  “Madam shouldn’t be speaking now.”

  Hearing that, she had to smile. “Then Gianna must speak to me. She knows how polite I am, that I wouldn’t dare think of interrupting.”

  Her maid paused to huff, but, sure enough, followed by speaking on and on about nothing.

  Sometimes, nothing was the most important thing.

  mialbowy