I noticed Olwen seemed kind of in a good mood after this, so when Genevieve left us to march off to Arthur and rant at him about Lucan, I took the opportunity to try to talk to her.

“Can we talk?”  I asked her.  She seemed genuinely fond of Genevieve, and Genevieve trusted her to be her lady-in-waiting, so I had to assume she was a decent person.  Whatever reason she didn’t like me, I’d prefer to figure out and resolve.

She consented and we went back to my quarters, where, unfortunately, she spotted my plant and immediately started frowning.

“So many concessions,” she muttered, also noticing Gilly in the windowsill.  “It’s quite unorthodox.  And this,” she motioned towards me, presumably my dress and shoes.  “She went out of your way to help you, yet you said you still don’t really like the shoes or the dress.  The gall of it all!”  She was back to being infuriated.

I tilted my head to one side, trying to understand.  “Genevieve is being kind enough to try to make me feel more comfortable.  She knows I didn’t choose to be here, so she’s trying to make it easier for me since I am here.”

Olwen huffed a bit again.  “Such ingratitude,” she snapped.

My eyes narrowed as I started to put it together.  “If I didn’t choose to be here, if I was dragged here against my will, why should I have to pretend I’m happy about it?”

“Because some people don’t get the chance!”  She practically yelled, before abruptly slumping into a chair, looking broken.  “Because some people need it but don’t get it,” she whispered.

I waited, because this wasn’t something I could force her to tell me.  She needed to choose whether she was going to tell me what the real problem was.

Apparently she decided she would.

“My parents were descended from nobility, but didn’t have a title themselves.  Just noble enough to have blue blood but not enough to have money from it.  It’s a tough life, that.  You can’t work peasant jobs because it’s a disgrace to your family, but you can’t necessarily afford the real education you’d need to get proper work as a bookkeeper or something at court.  It ends up being a life barely above poverty, worse than many commoner tradesmen, to be honest.”  She sounded bitter.  “I was lucky.  I was old enough to be beyond proper marrying age when Genevieve’s parents wanted to get her a lady-in-waiting.  She’d been betrothed to the prince and they believed it was time to hire someone.  I was chosen, because I wasn’t as likely to run off and get married, and I’ve been with her ever since.”  Her eyes softened a bit.  “She’s always been kind, almost nervous at first about asking me to do anything, but to me, this was the best opportunity possible.  A job I could do, that wasn’t considered a disgrace to our family, yet it paid enough I could help my family out.”

Well, that explained how she’d become Genevieve’s lady-in-waiting, but not why she didn’t like me.

Olwen slumped a little bit more in her chair, probably unaware of how un-ladylike she looked at the moment.  Actually, she looked miserable.  Ladylike probably was the last thing on her mind.

“There was a terrible storm one year, soon after I started serving Genevieve.  A tree fell on my parents’ house and killed them and injured my brother.  My brother and sister were both several years younger than me and had no one to help them.  I went to the king and begged him to help them.  They were proper people to help!  Children, of noble blood, left without a parent.  He could have just helped them out a bit.  My brother could have studied to be a bookkeeper, he’d have been happy.  My sister would have been happy to have the chance to become a lady-in-waiting herself, or to marry a lesser noble.  Anything.  Becoming the king’s wards would have meant everything to them.  But – but he refused.”

She stared blankly ahead of her, barely noticing when Gilly came over and started rubbing against her leg.  “I asked Genevieve’s parents, too, if I could at least bring them to their residence and keep them in rooms there, under my own care, but they didn’t like the idea of my sister being around Genevieve.  They were afraid that Arthur might notice a younger girl, which was a ridiculous idea, but they said they’d make sure my sister and brother were at least placed with someone else in town to help them.

“It wasn’t enough.  My brother caught pneumonia and, already weak from his injuries, died soon after.  My sister hated the family she was placed with and married very young, probably about your age.  She got pregnant immediately and died in childbirth less than a year later.  And all of it – it could have been avoided!  It should have been!  All he had to do was take them in as wards, something that would have been appropriate given their noble blood, but he wouldn’t.  He wouldn’t,” her voice broke on the last bit, and she wiped at the tears on her face.

Ah.  Now I got it.  Becoming the king’s wards would have literally made the difference between life and death for Olwen’s siblings, but they hadn’t been given that chance because of an unfeeling king.  And then she saw me, a girl about her sister’s age, who resented being made ward and didn’t appreciate the upsides to it.

I pulled up the other chair to sit next to her, patting her shoulder gently as she sniffed.  “I’m sorry about your family.  You’re right, your sister and brother didn’t deserve that, and Uther could have helped them.  He should have, or even Genevieve’s parents could have done more.  You tried, but you weren’t allowed to help them yourself, and you tried everything you could to get someone else to help them.  It’s not fair.”

She cried, trying to wipe at her tears, but not being able to stop them.

It had likely been over a decade since her brother and sister had died, but I could understand why she was still so upset about it.

“It was unfair,” I told her gently, “but I’m not them.  I know it probably seems unfair that I don’t want to be the king’s ward, when your brother and sister needed it, but we’re in different positions.  I will admit there are advantages to being the king’s ward,” I allowed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about being brought here against my will.  And it doesn’t mean I’m going to change who I am, whether that means wearing clothes and shoes that other people think are weird or shutting up and smiling inanely when men like Lucan say nonsense about women.”

She sniffed again, but smiled through her tears now.  “I liked what you told him.  I don’t have children, I’m too old now, but I don’t like to think I’m valueless as a result.”

“You’re definitely not.”  I was almost insulted on her behalf at the idea.  “You help take care of the future queen, for one thing.  She relies on you and trusts you, and she needs someone like that – someone who’s watching her back and someone she can confide in.  I think you’re arguably one of the more important people to the smooth running of the kingdom, even if you happen to be more invisible to some people.  Invisibility doesn’t mean you’re not important.  It just means you get to work in the shadows instead of the spotlight.”

Olwen was quiet for a bit longer, then looked at me, her eyes still a bit watery.  “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.  “I haven’t been fair to you, either.  I thought of my sister when I saw you, and how eagerly she would have done anything asked of her if she’d been given the chance to be the king’s ward.  But you’re right.  You’re not her, and I don’t think your approach is wrong, either.  Maybe giving into any request would erase some of who you are, and I honestly can’t imagine you being a demure young lady.  You have too much spirit.”

I had to laugh a bit.  “I think you’re trying to politely tell me I’m too wild to be a proper lady, but just nicely.  And I don’t mind.”  I settled back into my chair, still smiling.  “I know I’m different from the nobles, and I don’t plan to fit in.  I don’t care if I don’t, I’m going to be me.”

She gave me a kind of admiring look.  “I don’t know many people who would do that.  Who wouldn’t care about the nobles’ opinions at all.  The king, I suppose.  Some of the knights, too.  Genevieve tries, but she was raised to want to please them, so it’s a struggle for her.”

I turned to look at her, more serious now.  “You know she plans to take an even more public role and official position of power once she becomes queen?  And not let people dismiss her just because she’s queen and not king – she intends to make people understand that women in power are to be as respected as men?”

Olwen nodded, a troubled expression crossing her face.  “I know she wants that.  She’s told me she’s afraid she’s going to back down and wants me to help her keep strong when the time comes.  She’s afraid she’ll back down when some of the older nobles – those used to doing things a certain way under Uther – will doubtless not listen to her.”

“Then we both have her back,” my tone was decided.  “You and I will make sure if anyone starts to not listen to her, we will be there to help her out.  You reassure her, I’ll yell at them or bite them if I have to.”

She was so startled at the joking suggestion that she actually laughed.  “I’m not sure biting is the best choice, but I have no doubt that you could make some of these nobles’ heads spin in confusion and break down all their logic at one go.  You’re a rather convincing orator, more than I’d expect with a teenage girl, to be honest.”  She considered me, her expression serious again.  “For you, age is just a number, isn’t it?  You are more knowledgeable and capable than anyone your age I’ve ever encountered.”

She was quiet again for a bit.  “Arthur brought you here because he thought your mother was lost or killed, and you shouldn’t live alone in the woods, didn’t he?  Yet you said she left because she knew you were capable on your own, and Arthur believed you were mistaken.  I’d thought Arthur of course knew what he was doing, but now – now I’m wondering if he wasn’t weren’t mistaken.  You don’t seem like you need someone to look after you, you seem more capable than many nobles at the court, to be honest.  I suppose being forced to come live somewhere else, entirely different from your home, is quite an adjustment, even if you are the king’s ward.  I’m sorry,” she offered again.  “For not being more understanding.  Genevieve saw it sooner than I did, which isn’t that surprising.  She’s always been quite empathetic.”

I shrugged, but gave her a smile.  “It’s forgiven, and I understand why you were upset.  I’m sorry you lost your sister and brother, and I’m sorry you did so because a king was too selfish and cold to listen.”

Her eyes saddened again, but she nodded this time.  “It was hard, sometimes, to pretend to respect him after that.  I hated him so much, and yet I was constantly at court, having to stand there quietly and pretend I didn’t care.  He rarely noticed me at all, even when I was there regularly, because to him I was just a servant, even if a lady-in-waiting usually does have some noble blood like me.  And I saw worse from him.  At least with my sister and brother, he just ignored them entirely.  I saw – ”  She stopped, uncertain.

I wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t want to revisit the topic or just wasn’t sure about speaking up in front of a teenager.  “I’m guessing you saw some things about his treatment of Arcane.”  I didn’t look at her, instead leaning down to pick up Gilly.  “I know things he did.  I know there’s a good reason why the Arcane hate him, and some hate Arthur by extension.”

“Arthur isn’t cruel like his father,” she murmured.

Considering that Genevieve said the same and that Olwen had had a lot of opportunities to personally observe Arthur, I was inclined to believe her.  “Let’s hope people come to see that soon.”

But at least now, Olwen no longer hated me, and we had an ally in each other in backing up Genevieve.

One more thing to make Camelot more like home.