By coming here with Rahse, Leena Craynore had escaped a certain and wretched death. She sat now in the dark, a little bit away from the attic inn room’s tiny round window, watching the road for Frost or his men. Shit, they didn’t even know if they were being followed. Not really.
She suspected it. Bastien was not the sort of person to let anything go. Keeping the sisters apart had to have been about control. Where was Siora? Leena fiddled with the end of her braid, curling in on herself with every shout or too-loud noise. This little town was probably of a similar size to the Frost family keep, a close and sooty/smoky quality to everything that felt very similar from her hiding place.
Or perhaps she only saw similarities because she knew nothing else.
Rahse would be back soon. Picking her hair loose, Leena moved back from the window and began unpacking her bag. There wasn’t much in it – she’d fled with nothing more than one set of totally inadequate clothing. At the bottom, though: trinkets stolen from the mistress. Running her fingers over these fine things brought her no pleasure anymore. But they might yet keep them fed.
In a perfect world, they’d take it all apart and melt the metals down. Even Leena knew it would be dangerous to sell recognizable pieces anywhere in the Free Marches.
But that took time and contacts and resources that were unlikely to be available in this place. She set out a few of the smallest pieces on the table and lit the lamp, then settled on the bed, back to the wall and sloping ceiling.
Rahse would know what to do next. Maybe he’d even bring up supper for the two of them.
She suspected it. Bastien was not the sort of person to let anything go. Keeping the sisters apart had to have been about control. Where was Siora? Leena fiddled with the end of her braid, curling in on herself with every shout or too-loud noise. This little town was probably of a similar size to the Frost family keep, a close and sooty/smoky quality to everything that felt very similar from her hiding place.
Or perhaps she only saw similarities because she knew nothing else.
Rahse would be back soon. Picking her hair loose, Leena moved back from the window and began unpacking her bag. There wasn’t much in it – she’d fled with nothing more than one set of totally inadequate clothing. At the bottom, though: trinkets stolen from the mistress. Running her fingers over these fine things brought her no pleasure anymore. But they might yet keep them fed.
In a perfect world, they’d take it all apart and melt the metals down. Even Leena knew it would be dangerous to sell recognizable pieces anywhere in the Free Marches.
But that took time and contacts and resources that were unlikely to be available in this place. She set out a few of the smallest pieces on the table and lit the lamp, then settled on the bed, back to the wall and sloping ceiling.
Rahse would know what to do next. Maybe he’d even bring up supper for the two of them.
06-05-2024, 04:24 PM
