Deepwoods - Honor Raconteur Page 0,117

and didn’t try to rush getting ready. In fact, she went down to breakfast a good hour later than she normally did, only to find that most of the guild had also risen late.

Waving good morning to people, she sat and filled up a plate but didn’t try to really talk until she had consumed about half of it. At that point, she realized that the table had two notable absentees. “Where’s Sylvie and Rune?”

“They were gone when I came down,” Markl responded, a slightly unhappy set to his mouth. “The innkeeper said they left early this morning together.”

Yes, and you’re jealous of that, aren’t you? Siobhan carefully bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. Markl wouldn’t take any sign of amusement well. “I see. Is everyone packed and ready to board the ship?”

“We can’t leave until those two show up,” Tran pointed out, calmly eating.

“I’m aware. I’m also aware that out of this entire group, it’s the men that are always ready to leave last.” She cast the repeat offenders pointed looks, although none of them looked particularly abashed at her silent scolding. “So be ready to leave the minute they’re back.”

Getting grunts and waves of acknowledgement, she felt satisfied she’d gotten the point across and resumed eating.

As it turned out, everyone was downstairs with their bags packed, just chatting, when the errant duo finally returned. Sylvie looked particularly put-out with the world, a scowl twisting her mouth. Siobhan didn’t have to ask to know where the other woman had been. Sylvie must have been visiting her parents while she was in town.

They’d been through here several times over the years, and it was always the same whenever Sylvie went home. Her parents were dead set on living in Coravine, heaven only knew why, but they couldn’t really make much of a living here. In fact, all seven of their children had left the city—some of them had left the continent altogether—and made homes elsewhere because of Coravine’s poor economy. Sylvie tried to convince her parents on every trip to move, to go to one of the places where their children lived, but they wouldn’t hear of it. Instead, they wanted Sylvie to live here and take care of them in their older years.

Siobhan gave her points for trying, but her parents would have to be in a far more desperate situation before they’d finally give up and leave the city. Until then, anything Sylvie said was just a waste of breath.

More curious to her was, why had Rune gone with her? Simply because he was worried about Sylvie being out and about on her own? “Where have you two been?” she asked them.

“Morning market, and a few other places,” Sylvie responded. “Is that my bag? Thanks.”

“Morning market?” Markl repeated in confusion.

Rune came to stand in front of Siobhan and handed her a small bundle wrapped in a grey handkerchief. Bemused, she took it and hefted it in her hands. Strange, it felt warm and was that…did she smell apple? “What’s this?”

“I lost the bet, remember?” Rune reminded her. “Sylvie says ya like these.”

Bet? Oh, right! When they were in the rafters together. They’d bet on whether or not Wolf and Tran would fight. Having a good idea of what he’d bought her, she nonetheless unwrapped it and found two small fried apple pies, still steaming and fresh. “She’s right. I do. Thank you, Rune.”

He gave her a boyish grin.

Siobhan grinned back, wrapping them up again. “I’ll eat these on the ship. Alright, people, let’s go back to Wynngaard.”

During the course of her term as guildmaster, Siobhan had reported to various other guildmasters about the status of things. However, she had never reported to three guildmasters of major city guilds all at once before. Well, alright, Lirah was standing in for her father, but it was the principle of the thing.

As soon as they’d landed, Siobhan went straight to Jarnsmor’s study to report their findings. She hadn’t expected Hammon and Lirah to already be there, all of them seated around the table, but was half glad that they were present. It saved her from hunting them down later and repeating herself.

“Guildmaster Maley,” Jarnsmor greeted with open relief. “You came back quite quickly! Please, sit, sit.”

She took a seat next to him with subtle pleasure. Sitting on something that didn’t sway back and forth was a blessing.

“You were able to gather information expediently,” Hammon noted, eyes sharp on her. “Or you weren’t able to find out

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