Emerence was always glad to see her. The reminder she stood outside in a harsh winter wind with the threat of snow hanging in the air made her shiver.
“Come inside,” she said, gesturing toward the drapery’s entrance. “There’s a fire going in the parlor, and if you’ve time, I’ll serve tea so you can warm up and rest for a time.”
They followed her into the shop, past the customers inspecting bolts of cloth and tailors either cutting lengths to order or taking measurements, to the very back of the store. Unlike the apothecary, the drapery’s stockroom was a two-story building with its stockroom upstairs. The back had been turned into a parlor where more genteel business negotiations were made over pots of tea or glasses of spirits Emerence’s father Tocqua served to his clients.
The drapery had preceded the apothecary. Tocqua Ipsan was a tailor by trade and expanded his trade from working with cloth to importing it and selling it, concentrating on high quality woolens as well as luxury silks and velvets that appealed to the wealthy Beladine citizenry. While the apothecary was redolent with the scents of herbs, spices, and infused oils, the drapery smelled of wool. It was also a warren of smaller rooms with the walls padded in bolts of cloth stacked atop each other to the ceiling.
The parlor Emerence led her guests to was a comfortable room, kept warm by a fire burning brightly in the hearth, a thick rug on the floor and tapestries on the walls to ward off the cold seeping through wood and stone. Comfortable chairs had been placed about the room, along with a pair of tables. She invited her visitors to sit and took Dahran Omega’s packages to set them on one of the tables.
The shop’s all-maid darted inside before Emerence could call for her. Her glance swept the room, and she raised five fingers in silent question. Five for tea? At Emerence’s nod, she disappeared, closing the door behind her.
“We’ll have tea very soon,” Emerence said, growing increasingly uncomfortable under four intent gazes. She nodded to those women seated on either side of Omeya and to their fierce-looking escort with the golden voice who stood behind the elder’s chair. “Dahran Omeya may have already spoken of me, but if not, I’m Emerence Ipsan, the daughter of Tocqua Ipsan who owns this shop and the apothecary next door. I was the one who placed the order for a bolt of amaranthine-dyed wool.”
The order hadn’t been for her but for the future aristocratic bride of a high-ranking nobleman who wished to include the costly bolt of purple fabric in his bridal gift to her. The Quereci were renowned for their weavers. Her father hadn’t trusted anyone else to make good use of the expensive skeins of amaranthine-dyed wool he’d managed to get his hands on from a merchant who traded with the non-human Kai. He’d almost worried himself into an early grave wondering if he could deliver the promised gift on time. Fortunately, the Quereci had arrived, and if Tocqua’s luck held, one of those packages Dahran Omeya had brought contained the prized bolt.
The two women who’d accompanied Omeya smiled when she translated Emerence’s introduction to them. “This is Dahran Sulti and Dahran Bulava,” she said. She pointed to Emerence’s erstwhile defender. And that is Gaeres, fifth son of the Kakilo clan’s chieftain. Sulti here is his aunt. He’s being considered for the position of council sarsen.” A proud note entered her voice when she included that last bit of information. She looked as if she wanted to say more but Gaeres’s warning glance stopped her.
Emerence wondered at the interaction but didn’t comment. Whatever silent communication was exchanged between the two, it was neither her business nor her concern. She gave them all a swift bow. “You were very kind to intervene on my behalf earlier,” she told Gaeres. “I thank you.”
His hair, revealed once he removed his fur-lined hat, was as black as his eyes and fell around his face in tousled waves, tamed at the temples by small braids woven with tiny coins. She’d heard the Quereci people valued their women so greatly it was difficult for a Quereci man to obtain a wife. Emerence doubted this one had any trouble at all and likely had more than one wife waiting for his return to the camps currently wintering on the plains at the base of the Dramorin mountains.
He returned her bow, his gaze never wavering from her face,