She nodded. “To get the seam to sit correctly, I’ll need to sew it from the inside out.”
He stood from the table and began to unbutton his outer jerkin.
Turning her back to him, she unhooked his cloak from the peg on the wall where he had placed it. She then carried it towards the fire, where she spread it out over the backs of two chairs to dry off. Her fingers slid over the seam that connected the hood to the cloak, her back still towards him.
He slipped off his jerkin and undid the small tie that held his undershirt closed at the base of his neck. Slipping the undershirt over his head, he held it out towards her. “Here.”
She turned at his words, her cheeks pink from the warmth of the fire. Her eyes skimmed his bare chest before they landed on the shirt in his hands. “Let me grab my needle.” She took the shirt from his hands and set it on the edge of the table before disappearing from the room.
Noticing her discomfort, Onric slipped his jerkin back on to at least cover his chest, though it left his arms bare. He sat back down and tore a piece from the loaf of bread.
A few pieces of parchment were stacked in the center of the table. He could see a rough sketch, done in charcoal, of a dress. At first glance, he might have dismissed it, but the numbers and notes scribbled around it caught his attention and he pulled it closer.
She returned, setting a small basket of sewing supplies on the table and sitting across from him. Without looking at him, she prepped her needle and began to carefully position the sleeve of his shirt.
He bit into the slice of bread. It was a hearty loaf, and his stomach growled in appreciation.
“Did you draw these?” he asked, indicating the parchments in front of him.
She nodded, still focused on her work.
As she hadn’t told him not to, he took a closer look at the next sheet in the stack. It was filled with odd shapes, also surrounded by measurements. It was unusual for a kitchen maid to know how to read, but it looked as though she was designing a dress pattern. “Are you apprenticed to a dressmaker?”
That caught her attention. She looked up at him. “No. I wish... Not yet. I would like to be. I was just trying to sort some thoughts in my head earlier today.”
He restacked the parchments, not sure what to say. Apprenticeships were free, so as to be available to anyone in the kingdom who desired to learn a new trade.
“You seem to have the interest and skill. Why would you not pursue an apprenticeship?” He shut his mouth, realizing once again that his words were blunt.
“I’d rather not say.”
Onric raised his eyebrows, enjoying the frankness but unused to hearing “no” from someone who was not his sibling.
“Can I ask how you came by such a large tear in your sleeve?” she queried. Her voice had changed to a more conversational tone, as though she were trying to change the subject.
“And why I am out in such bad weather?”
“Well, yes, that too.” She smiled and glanced up at him. Her eyes took in his bare shoulders and quickly dropped back to her work.
“My bro... horses and I were visiting the old monastery down by the sea. We stayed out later than we should have, even though I noticed the clouds rolling in. As the ground got wet, I took a little tumble down a muddy embankment.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No, not even a scratch. Just caught the sleeve on a branch as I fell.” He bit into the cheese. It had the earthy tang of goat. He took another bite, relaxing in the warmth and food.
“I wish I could visit the monastery again.” The girl tugged on her needle, drawing a thin line of thread through the shirt.
“You’ve been there?” He was mildly surprised. The sea was a few hours ride away and frequented by the nobles, but it was not often that the working class would travel there.
“When I was very little, I visited it with my parents. That was before the monks had abandoned it, though. Is it true that they are all gone?”
“One of the older monks still lives in a small hut further down the coast.”
She did not respond, but he noticed that her brow seemed tense. She tugged on the needle again, smoothly gliding the thread along behind it.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. It just makes me a little sad. I remember being so fascinated by the mixture of quietness and activity. I should like to visit it again, but... I imagine it would be terribly somber with just the silence. Was it lonely?”
