Knowing he must be waiting for her to speak, she did her best to greet him without falling into an old habit of bowing her head to any sign of high stature. No longer a slave, she would not cower before opulence. “I still find the morning pleasant, sir. The sun is warm and there is a nice breeze.”
“So there is.” His smile lifted into an amused little smirk that only served to harden the sharp contours of his face. “I have not seen you in town before, and I make it a point to know everyone.”
“I have only recently arrived,” she said, which was mostly true. “From Lambshire,” she added, feigning confidence behind the words.
“Is that so? And does the lovely lady of Lambshire have a name?” he asked.
“Dnara,” she replied, left with little choice. “And you?” she asked, hoping to distract with talking of himself so that her name would fade into unimportance and later, hopefully, be forgotten entirely.
He seemed pleased by her apparent eagerness to learn his name. Pressing one long-fingered hand to his chest, he gave a courtly half bow. “My lady, I am-”
“Garrett!” Athan called out as his boots swiftly closed the distance across the courtyard between crowd and fountain. “I didn’t know you were back in the ‘Mill.”
Garrett grimaced at the interruption but quickly regained his noble composure as he stood straight to address Athan. “I wasn’t aware I needed to check in with you upon my arrival, forester.”
Athan’s quiet chuckle was no more friendly than Garrett’s smile. “No, but I do have the item you requested over two weeks ago, and I’d like to get it out of my bags, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Item...” Garrett thought on it for a moment then gave a flippant cast of his hand. “Ah, that. Keep it. I no longer have use for it.”
Athan’s hand fisted at his side. “But, you’ve already paid for it, and I’ve already spent the coin.”
Garrett glanced down to the two glass and dark brass lanterns Athan carried by the circular rings toping each lamp. Garrett’s smile grew smug as he pointed to the lamps. “Yes, I can see how you’ve spent my good coin on Phineaus’s junk.”
“Better to be spent on junk that may prove useful than wasted on drink that sours before it hits the glass,” Athan replied, to which Garrett’s mouth clamped shut in a tempered scowl.
As the two men engaged in a war of stares and unspoken history, Dnara took one of the lamps in hand and slipped its ring from Athan’s finger. Within the masterful metalwork and inlayed stain glass, there were engraved runes which Dnara recognized immediately. “Phineaus spoke true. These are Elvan crafted.”
“Oh?” Athan sounded relieved.
“Are you some scholar?” Garrett sounded skeptical. “An expert on things Elvan?”
Dnara’s face heated, and she regretted having spoken her revelation out loud. “No, sir. I’ve merely read about them. It is said that if you place an Elvan Everbright lamp in the sun during the day, it will light your path by night.”
“Good news, then.” Athan gave her a confidence boosting smile when he caught her discomfort at Garrett’s skepticism. “We can’t cook with it, but at least we won’t have to steer Treven in the dark.”
Garrett scoffed. “Still using that mule, forester? Honestly, you should’ve bought an old hag mare with my coin instead of those lamps. Would’ve been better than your stubborn beast that won’t even let you ride it like a proper master.” Without giving Athan time to offer a rebuttal, he changed topics. “So, I see you know this maiden by the fountain. Why am I not surprised that it would be you who would bring a beautiful rose into Lee’s Mill and not share.”
“She’s my new apprentice,” Athan woodenly replied.
As Garrett’s blond eyebrow rose skeptically higher, Dnara stood next to Athan in solidarity. “I’m a friend of the family. Athan has graciously agreed to teach me the trade of foresting so that I may help support my family back home in Lambshire.”
“Ah.” Garrett gave her a longer look over, stopping at the bandages on her arms just visible past the line of her cloak. “Shame to have such a rose covered in mud, and I see our forester has already neglected to keep you from harm.”
Athan blistered. “Garrett, you-”
“It was my fault,” Dnara interjected before Athan’s growing agitation drew curious glances. “Poison oak,” she explained as she held up an arm. “I reached right through a patch to get at some fresh dragon’s wart, and well... It’s a mistake I won’t be making again.”
“Poison oak, you say?” Garrett asked with rhetorical cynicism. “I do believe I have a balm for that back at the house, imported all the way from Ka’veshi. If you were to come over for tea, or-”
“We’re busy,” Athan interrupted.
“I wasn’t inviting you,” Garrett fired back. “Just her.”
“She’s busy,” Athan said before Dnara could get a word in.
“I also wasn’t asking you,” Garrett replied, his glacial eyes looking to her. “Doesn’t tea sound better than traipsing through whatever muddy swamp or briar infested grove Athan has in mind?”
“Well, I-” she started but found herself once again cut off before finishing a thought.
“Ah, Athan,” an old man’s voice spoke on approach, his hand outstretched in greeting from the folds of a long, pale yellow robe intricately embroidered in green. “Thank you so much for coming. And this must be her? Wonderful, wonderful! Thank you so much for coming, Mageraetas.” The old man’s bald head dipped low.
“Mageraetas?” Garrett made an odd little noise, as if he’d been squeezed too tightly by the well fitted vest around his waist.
“Elder Rellius,” Athan took the old priest’s hand and quickly began directing him back towards
