“You thought to help a friend,” Dnara offered as Athan’s shame grew and his eyes clenched shut.
“He looked so... terrified,” Athan said. “I’ve never seen the man so desperate. Thought maybe he loved the woman and was afraid she’d die from the pregnancy. Never once occurred to me that he hoped to save his sister.”
“But he didn’t take the herb from you?” Dnara asked, recalling the meeting in the temple square.
“No. His time away, looking for Thomas, had given him time to think it through. He realized Elizabeth would never forgive him.”
Dnara sat back against the pillow in thought. Garrett had come back, despite the guilt and the fear, and he’d only thought of his sister. It was a far different image of the man than her initial encounter had created. She had to wonder how long it had taken him to craft such an elegant porcelain mask of unshakable bravado, and what had led him to craft it in the first place.
“I wouldn’t have forgiven myself, either,” Athan said, his reddened eyes finally looking back to her. “Never again will my fingers touch that herb at naught but a woman’s request. I swear to it.”
It was clear the guilt at merely agreeing to procure the herb had been eating Athan’s spirit alive. She squeezed his arm and accepted his oath as words from a man who had learned a hard lesson. With trepid relief, he shared with her a smile.
“Thank you,” he mouthed, his voice too upset to speak.
“Jenny said you went to see him?” she asked after a quiet pause.
Athan nodded and cleared his throat to find his voice again. “He passed on his thanks to you for helping Elizabeth, and renewed his invitation to tea... Your invitation,” he emphasized with a smirk. “He followed me back to the temple and is with Elizabeth now. They’d both like to see you, once you’re feeling up to it.”
“Okay,” she replied, though not certain as to when she would feel up to facing either of the Whitehall siblings. A noise from beyond the window, a tolling bell, drew her curiosity away from more troubled thoughts. “A call to prayer?”
“The opening ceremony for the festival,” he said. “Elder Rellius is leading it, along with Mayor Whitehall. It starts in the temple courtyard with a few speeches and prayers, then a procession will carry Faedra’s chalice from the temple to the town center, where Elder Rellius will bless the first night of festivities by giving all the townsfolk a sip of wine from the chalice.”
“I thought all the wine had soured?” she asked, to which Athan smirked.
“Phineaus donated his cartful of unspoiled wine to the festival.”
Dnara leaned back in surprise. “He did?”
“Yeah. It was his plan all along.” Athan chuckled with a shake of the head at the merchant’s antics. “He boasted such a high price that day in the market to deter buyers, and so he could appear even more generous when he donated it to the temple.”
The idea made her laugh, too, and she came to an unshakable conclusion. “He’s a good man at heart, isn’t he?”
“He is,” Athan agreed. “Although, he does hope to garner favor and sell more of his merchandise at the festival.”
“Well, he does have a family to support,” Dnara laughed out the lie and Athan laughed harder with her. “And maybe now he’ll sell those lamps.”
“Oh, those are all sold,” Athan informed. “I’m glad I got two when I did.”
“Did Penna and Tobin like your gift?”
“Our gift,” he corrected. He reached into his cloak and withdrew the second lamp from the hook on his belt. “And yes, they were quite pleased with it.” He held up the unlit lamp and examined it before handing it to Dnara. “Even if it doesn’t work, it’s kind of...pretty.”
Dnara took the lamp and glanced up, finding his eyes on her. Heat rushed to her cheeks and she refocused on the inlayed runes. “It should work, if you left it out in the sun.”
“I did, while I was at the Whitehall estate. Put it on a windowsill next to the three Garrett bought.”
Dnara let out a small laugh at that. “I thought he didn’t like the things Phineaus sells.”
“Everyone likes the things Phineaus sells, things you can’t get in Lee’s Mill without traders like him. Fabrics from Ka’veshi, Elvan masterwork tools, Orc’kothi medicines, and other odd things I have no idea where he picks them up.”
“He must travel a lot.” And to her, it sounded like an adventure, to see all those places she’d only read about in books.
“He does. He’ll leave here after the festival, maybe head north to the Orc’kothi lands if the mountain pass is open. He’ll be back eventually, though, with more things to trade.”
Her fingers splayed over the lamp’s glass and metalwork, her mind swimming with images drawn into the books she’d read. “It must be exciting, to see all those different places.”
“The scenery is nice,” Athan said. “And you meet interesting people from time to time. But, it can get tiresome, not knowing exactly where you’ll rest your head that night. ...And lonely,” he finished in a quieter tone, his eyes back on her.
Heartbeat fluttering, Dnara awkwardly joked, “But you have Treven. I bet he’s great company.”
“Sure, if you’ve got carrots.” Athan scoffed. “Not much for conversation, though.”
“You seem to understand each other well,” Dnara voiced an earlier observation that had been in the back of her mind since the day at Hector’s farm.
“Oh, well, I guess.” Athan looked off to the side, a hand raising to rub the back of neck. “We’ve... been together for... Well, it feels like forever. And, it’s not like Treven is all that hard to understand, stubborn smartass that he
