"...Do people in general - I guess practically speaking I'm mostly asking about Berete and the kitchen slaves - know about - things? Is there a reason not to mention it, or to make something up if I get asked about the gauze or the missing aloe leaf or anything?"
"Berete can probably guess," he says. "She's been around long enough. I don't think she knows how bad it is, though. And it might be a bad idea to let her find out. She's nice; she might fuss."
Well, there's always... not waiting. But that can be part of 'not really', because it would be so very hard to pull off.
So she's waiting for somebody to die, again, and this one is younger. While she's since grown older. Great.
"What are you going to do when he does? In general, I mean."
"Celebrate," he suggests. "No - I don't know. A lot of things are going to be different. It's hard to say what sort of a Duke I'll be."
Although she does say:
"You've been very successful at not frightening me. Unless something changes I think we could have ordinary conversations without me thinking you're about to snap if I say the wrong thing."
"I think so." It occurs to her to ask: "Do you need your bandages changed or are they okay for now?"
When she comes back, he is sitting on one of the couches in his little front room, looking slightly despondent.
"You could talk to me," she mentions. "If you want, if it'd help."