Arc 2: Chapter 12: Silver For The Dead
Vanya returned within an hour with an aged man dressed as a monk, save for the apron and belt of tools he wore over his brown robes. I left him with Emma and Vanya in the young noble’s bedroom, feeling useless and guilty.
It didn’t matter at all that I’d been defending myself from Emma’s magic. She was barely more than a child, and I’d let her goad me into that duel. I’d been dismissive and surly, knowing it ate at her pride — I’d dealt with nobles before, and knew what might happen. I hadn’t cared. I’d been so angry at this situation with Nath’s request, upset at what had happened in the Fane with Ser Maxim, and…
And I made excuses. I’d wanted to take the girl down a peg. I’d shown off, toyed with her, and made it seem like I did so easily. I couldn’t deny I’d been at least in part malicious, intentionally poking at her pride until she’d snapped.
I walked outside. A light rain had begun to fall, but the grassy field where Emma and I had sparred still seemed vibrant and bright, as though caught in beams of post-storm sunlight. The grass seemed sharper, almost metallic. We’d both used a lot of aura, and it lingered in the world, dramatizing it. It would fade before long.
I picked up my cloak from where I’d discarded it on the grass, then found my axe. I hooked the weapon onto the back of my hauberk, securing it in the iron ring there, then tossed my cloak over one shoulder without putting it on. I sighed, collecting myself, and turned back to the manor.
A figure leaned against the porch, watching me with bright green eyes from beneath the brim of a tricorn.
“You’re… Qoth.” I remembered what Emma had called the coachman.
Qoth’s expression remained unreadable, between the cloth bandanna and shady hat. I couldn’t even tell if they were a man or woman. They were small, slight, made bulkier by the layered garments and heavy coat.
“You going to take umbrage with me for hurting your lady?” I asked, more resigned than challenging.
“Nah.” Qoth’s light, slightly muffled voice seemed oddly chipper. “Good show, though. Haven’t seen Emma that angry in a while.” Their green eyes sparkled with interest, and perhaps a bit of mirth.
Discomforted by the strange servant, I decided to change the subject. “Why doesn’t Lord Brenner have any guards here?” I asked.