THREE
Withthoughtsofthebluelightandthesilverdustcastfromhermind,AloisiaaccompaniedBrighdetothehomesheandFynnsharedintheshadowoftheTemple.Linkedarminarm,theystrodethefewstreetsbetweenitandthesmithy.Fromtheirfrontdoor,itwasastone’sthrowawayfromtheTemple’sLowerGardens,encompassedbyashortwall.Astheypassed,Aloisiaspottedsomeofthefledglingprieststendingtotheflowersthere.
The house itself consisted of three rooms: a parlour with a kitchen and two bedrooms. One of which, Brighde said, would become a nursery if the Divines were good.
Brighde unlocked the door and led them inside. The bells of the Temple chimed, marking the hour. Five tolls.
Aloisia winced, covering her ears. “By the Damned, how do you bear that every hour?”
“I suppose, after a while, you don’t notice it anymore.” Brighde smiled. “You must have been used to it at the smithy. It’s not much farther away.”
“I must have been. Almost a decade at the Hunting Guild has ruined my tolerance. There’s only silence out there. Unless wolves brave the land beyond the Dead Woods and get into the stables. Horses can be very loud when they want to be.”
“Wolves?”
“They’ve yet to harm any of the horses, don’t worry.” Aloisia drifted to a low bookshelf and ran her fingers along the leather spines of a few old tomes stacked there. “Horses have strong kicks; they can defend themselves. Plus, the stable hands sleep above the stables. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“If you say so. As long as they don’t venture further towards town, it’s fine by me.” Brighde glided through the narrow kitchen, gathering a few odds and ends.
She chuckled. “If they get spooked by our stable hands, they definitely won’t make it into town.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Brighde indicated the door to her bedroom. “Have a look in, Lis. Borrow whatever you like. I just need to collect the gifts for Tristan.”
“Are you sure this is all right?”
“Of course. I’m not wearing anything in my closet right now. What difference does it make? We’re about the same size, too.”
“Thanks for this, Brighde.” Aloisia headed into the bedroom, searching the closets for something suitable. “Definitely saving me time trudging back to the guild.”
“As long as you take care of it, then it’s fine. I know what Kaja can be like. She becomes a bit of a spill hazard after a few.”
“A few what? Kegs?”
Brighde giggled. “She drinks like a fish, that one. If a fish were swimming in cider.”
Aloisia chose a pale blue dress with a dark blue bodice embroidered with an intricate, swirling pattern. The sleeves puffed from the shoulders, gathered at the elbows by little bows. She emerged from the bedroom carrying her hunting leathers in a pile, her weapon belt balanced atop them, having resisted the urge to buckle it over the dress. Even so, the blade strapped to her calf remained.
Brighde gasped. “It’s much more beautiful on you.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.” Aloisia rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please. The shade of blue is far more striking with your dark hair.” She was wrapping something in brown paper and tying a ribbon around it. “Give me a hand, would you?”
Aloisia placed a finger atop the fabric as Brighde finished the bow.
“There.” She stepped back to examine her work.
“What did you get for Tristan?”
“A few of those sweetrolls he likes from the bakery.” She indicated to the brown paper package. “And a cask of whiskey, from the distilleries of Ephroditia no less.”
“Ooh fancy!”
“Would you help me with the cask? It isn’t big, but it’s too heavy for me.” She patted the small cask set atop the kitchen bench.
“Of course. Could I leave my leathers here? Until tomorrow.”
“Put them in the spare room. In fact, why don’t you stay here tonight?”
