“
I’ll see that Hap gets his apprenticeship. You simply could have asked me to do that when I visited you. Or years ago, you could have brought the lad to Buckkeep and we’d have seen him decently educated.”
“He can read and write and figure,” I said defensively. “I saw to that.”
“Good.” His reply was chill. “I’m glad to hear you retained that much common sense.”
There seemed no rejoinder to that. Both pain and weariness were overcoming me. I knew I had hurt him but I didn’t feel it was my fault. How could I have known he’d be so willing to help me? Nevertheless, I apologized. “Chade, I’m sorry. I should have known you would help me.”
“Yes,” he agreed mercilessly. “You should have. And you’re sorry. I don’t doubt you’re sincere. Yet I seem to recall warning you, years ago, that those words will only work so often, and then they ring hollow. Fitz, it hurts me to see you this way.”
“It’s starting to ease,” I lied.
“Not your head, you stupid ass. It hurts me to see that you are still…as you’ve always been since…damn. Since you were taken from your mother. Wary and isolated and mistrustful. Despite all I’ve…After all these years, have you given your trust to no one?”
I was silent for a time, pondering his words. I had love Molly, but I had never trusted her with my secrets. My bond with Chade was as essential as my bones, but no, I had not believed he would do all he could for Hap,simply for the sake of what we shared. Burrich. Verity. Kettricken. Lady Patience. Starling. In every instance, I had held back. “I trust the Fool,” I said, and wondered if I truly did. I did, I assured myself. There was almost nothing about mr that he didn’t know. That was trust, wasn’t it?
After a moment, Chade said heavily, “Well, that’s good. That you trust someone.” He turned away from me spoke to the fire. “You should force yourself to eat something. Your body may rebel, but you know that you need the food. Recall how we had to press food on Verity when he skilled.”
The neutrality in his voice was almost painful. I realized then that he had hoped I would insist that I did trust him. It would not have been true, and I would not lie to him. I rummaged about in my mind for something else to give him. I spoke the words without thinking. “Chade, I do love you. It’s just that—”
He turned to me almost abruptly. “Stop. Say no more.” His voice was almost pleading as he said, “That’s enough for me.” He set his hand to my shoulder and squeezed nearly painfully. “I won’t ask of you that which you can’t give. You are what life has made you. And what I made you, Eda be merciful.
”
”