Goddess of Legend (Goddess Summoning #7)(30)

Gwen, amazingly enough, appeared disappointed. "Are you saying you did not mean what you had suggested?"

Isabel dragged the other chair over to Gwen. "Oh, I meant it. Think about this, Queen Guinevere." She shook her head. "Gwen. The women who work at Camelot do only that. They work. The men work, for a certainty, but they also engage in play sport. The women should be allowed at least a small amount of that time themselves."

Gwen nodded, although her expression definitely showed confusion. "I do understand what you propose, but truth be told, I have ne'er heard a word of complaint."

"Oh, please, do you really believe the servants of Camelot are going to air their grievances to you?"

At that moment Mary burst into the room. "Ready to have your hair do - " She stopped short. "My apologies. I will return later."

"No, Mary," Isabel said. "I would very much love for you to take care of my hair right now."

"But the queen - "

"Will not mind," Isabel said. "Is that not right, Gwen?"

"Of course not. Come in and do your work, Mary."

"Yes, my queen."

"Her talent, not her work," Isabel said.

"My pardon?"

"The thing is, Gwen, that working on hair is not labor to Mary. She enjoys it. And she's very good at it."

"Thank you, m'lady," Mary said, her eyes still glued to the ground.

"I know, Gwen, that I am being so intrusive. However, the point being that you are not using your men and women in the most productive way. Mary, here, should be working with hair. She's brilliant. For example, she could spruce up many of the men's hair. Have you not noticed many are, shall we say, in need of de-shagging?"

"De ...?"

"They need haircuts."

"They do?"

"You have not noticed?"

"In truth, no. Another apparent fault of mine."

"It's not a fault. Just, apparently that you only have eyes for" - Isabel stopped herself just in time - "the things that matter to you. And I believe you have always felt that Arthur's men are his men, and not necessarily your concern."

"What do you recommend?"

"They need to clean up their act. For example, Arthur's first man, James, is quite a handsome brute. However, his hair is a mess."

Mary nearly choked.

Gwen took a hard look at Mary, nodding. "Oh, yes, you are that Mary. The one who turns James all amelt when he speaks of you."

Isabel was obviously missing something. "I apologize, Mary. I didn't expect for you to take on a horrid task with hair. I honestly just wanted to fight for your happiness."

Gwen tried to hide a smile but did a lousy job.

"What am I missing?"

"Oh, lady," Mary said, hands all aflutter. "My thanks. I do so enjoy working with hair. However, I will perform any tasks my king and queen ask of me. With pleasure, of course. May we, perhaps, brush your hair alone, Countess?"

Isabel looked back and forth between the queen and the servant. "Okay, what's the deal?"

Gwen spoke up first, her eyes still full of mirth. "Forgive me, but I believe this is the Mary who has captured James's heart. Am I correct, Mary?"

The poor girl looked like she was going to faint.

"Wait a minute," Isabel said, trying to give Mary a moment to catch her breath. "As in James, the sweetest brute alive who is Arthur's first man?"

"I knew he was smitten with a Mary," Gwen said. "I have heard Arthur jest about this. But I am so sorry to say I did not know which Mary."

"How many Marys do you have?" Isabel asked.

"I honestly do not know. We have so many Marys and Liliths and any number of names. I believe, however, that we have but one Prudence. I know not what her mother was thinking upon her birth."

Isabel looked back at Mary's flaming face. "Are you the Mary James has set his heart on?"

Mary shifted her feet and looked like she wanted to flee. "Yes, mum."

Gwen let out a small laugh. "James, in love."

"What is so funny?" Isabel asked. "James would be lucky to have Mary."

"No, no, 'tis not the match that is mirthful. 'Tis just the idea of James besotted that is something that has me - "

"Happy for them?" Isabel said.

"Yes, of course, happy for them."

Mary kind of curtsied again. "Thank you, my lady."

"Isabel."

"Yes, my lady. I am well aware of your name."

"Which you still refuse to utter."

"Yes, mum."

"Mary . . . and you do recognize that I use your first name?"

"Yes, mum."

"You're only thirteen."

"They are waiting until she becomes fourteen, Isabel," Gwen said. "'Tis the time we have decided upon."

"You have decided for them? As if they have no choice in the matter? Then again, at fourteen I was still working the monkey bars on the playground. I still thought boys had cooties."

Both of them looked at Isabel like she was batty. She even heard Viviane sigh in her head.

Okay, once again she was blowing it. Even if it felt kind of skanky, Isabel understood that in this time, age was a different matter. So she focused on another problem. "Then, Mary, why have you not done something to fix his hair?"