for two now stood a bed for one with a plain-posted canopy of faded curtains dyed a deep sea green. It seemed the previous owner had either been single or slept alone. Someone had entered while she bathed and placed a thick down comforter on the bed. And on top of that lay her pack and knife and the sheathed falchion.
Heat from the kitchen fire traveled up the stone chimney in the corner and helped warm the room, though her bare feet still felt a little chill on the wood floor. A wardrobe of dark wood stood against the wall across from the bed. Replacing Rose's mat was now a small table with one chair and two stout, white candles that flickered throughout the dark room. She opened her pack to empty its contents on the bed.
From the bottom of the pack, she pulled a canvas-wrapped bundle. Tied with twine, the rough material had sharply creased after years of storage in its place. It had been so long since she'd opened it that Magiere was forced to cut the twine with her knife, as the knot would not uncinch. Inside was a dark blue brocade dress with black laces on the bodice. Aunt Bieja had given it to her years ago.
Magiere put it on quickly, fumbling a bit with the laces before tying them securely. She absently fingered the metal chain of her bone-and-tin amulet, then dropped it to let it rest between her breasts near the topaz stone. Meaningless trinkets that merely added to her persona as the hunter, she had no idea why she kept them on now, but it seemed too odd to take them off after so many years.
There was no mirror in which to view herself, but when she looked down at the drape of the skirt, it felt odd and alien not to see her own breeched legs or booted feet. She felt a sudden urge to pull the dress off, but with her everyday clothes missing and having limited other clothing in her pack, there was little else to wear at the moment. She turned instead to putting away her things.
Her worn blanket and teapot and few spare undergarments made the wardrobe look barer than before she'd placed anything in it. The small size of the room was actually a relief, since she had so few personal belongings with which to fill it.
"By all the dead deities," came Leesil's voice from behind her. She quickly spun about. "What did you do to yourself?"
Bathed as well, he stood with a hand on the open door latch, wearing a dressing gown similar to the one she'd just taken off. His wet, shoulder-length hair, pulled back over his ears, looked like beach sand in the low light, but he still looked himself. He stared at her as if she were some stranger who'd sneaked in unannounced.
Magiere felt acutely aware of her own appearance, the tightly laced gown and how her black hair hung loose to her shoulder blades. She suddenly wished she'd left on the oversize dressing gown.
"Beth-rae took my clothes to wash," Magiere snarled at him. "And you might take care. She'll probably burn yours, by the state they were in."
"Where did you buy that?" he asked, stepping into the room.
She noticed that when they were both in their bare feet, he was perhaps a little taller than her.
"Don't you knock, or has sleeping on the ground rubbed out all your manners?" she replied. "And I didn't buy it. My aunt gave it to me a long time ago."
That comment halted his line of questioning immediately. Talking about their pasts was something they both made a point of avoiding.
"Where's Chap?" she asked.
"In the kitchen." Leesil rolled his eyes. "He's fallen in love with Beth-rae. Every time I see them, she's feeding him something. That's got to stop. What good is a fat guard dog?"
He still eyed Magiere up and down, and it was starting to irritate her even more.
"We'll search the place tomorrow, take a look at the cellar or whatever passes for storage, and get an inventory. If there are enough ale casks down there, we might be able to open for business tomorrow evening. If you need anything else for the games, let me know." She picked up the falchion and turned to place it inside the corner of the wardrobe while Leesil plopped down in the chair, watching her. "In the afternoon, we'll go back to the market, and maybe the docks