longer are you two going to be?” my
mother called from below.
“We are doing our hair!” Lunamae shouted
back.
“We need to get everything situated and meet
Angharad at the keep to depart soon. Don’t tarry too long,” my
mother said. I watched her through the floorboard cracks; she was
carrying out a chest with the help of Logan who had decided to open
his shop a little later today—after we had all left. They headed
outside to load it up and Lunamae whispered to me.
“Do you think I should give some to Marcus?”
she cooed.
“Give some of what?” I inquired.
“My hair, silly,” Lunamae said as I finished
trimming and began work on the braids. It was rather simple in
design, only three braids that started behind her ear and as I
added hair on either side of the braid, they worked their way on
the left side of her head to her neck.
“You do realize that we are going to Fanarion
to find you a suitable husband, don’t you?” I asked with a smile. I
couldn’t help but grin at Lunamae’s veracity.
“But I don’t want to marry a stranger. I want
to marry someone I love and cherish,” she said. “I like
Marcus.”
“You are being foolish,” I warned, working
nimbly on the other side of her head.
Lunamae sighed with frustration. “Why can’t
things be changed? Why does my mother have to follow
tradition?”
“Because alliances and treaties are what keep
us alive. It connects us to our neighbors,” I explained, twirling
my finger around a lock of hair. I was nearly done with the sides
and began to twist them around her head in a band.
“Kyrie is a neighbor, sort of,” Lunamae
said.
“There are clans nearby that would be more
suitable,” I urged. “It would be different if we traded with Kyrie
but we don’t. Not since the battle. Now I’m done with your hair,
try to finish mine before we go.” We sat in solitude while Lunamae
worked on my hair, attending to it gently. When we were all ready
to go, we carefully carried our leather bags with us and put them
in the sitting area of the coach.
“Can I go say goodbye to Marcus?” Lunamae
asked me. She was of the age where she could be let wander
unattended but in the dungeons I didn’t feel it would be a good
idea. I nodded to her and motioned her forward so she could lead
the way.
When we entered the cell block Lunamae took
out a bit of her hair she had stuffed in an apron pocket. “Marcus?”
she whispered. I heard yawning in a corner. The other prisoners
were still sleeping.
“Lunamae, it’s you? I thought I wasn’t going
to see you before you left.”
“I told you I would see you every day I
could,” she answered softly. She passed the lock of hair into the
cell. Marcus took it gently.
“Your hair?” he wondered, his voice still in
a hushed whisper. It was good he was whispering because over time
his voice had deepened quite a bit.
“Yes, a gift for you. I will instruct the
maiden who will be caring for you when I’m gone to give you a piece
of paper and some ink and a quill. Write to me how you are every
single day and I will read the notes when I get back. Then it will
seem as though I haven’t ever left.” I could tell from her voice
that Lunamae was beginning to develop tears. She wasn’t the only
one.
“That is very generous of you,” Marcus said,
his voice shaky. “You had better leave before your mother catches
you down here. Return to me quickly.” Marcus said but not before he
reached out for her hand. He kissed it through the bars and
continued to hold it as long as he could before we walked away.
We headed up the familiar stairs and walked
out the main level, making sure we found Brynna first. I did stop
for a moment to notice the tapestry on the opposite wall—the one
Lunamae had finished for her mother. It wasn’t nearly as large and
grand as the one the maidens had crafted, but it was a gift from
daughter to mother and it spoke volumes.
It was hard seeing Lunamae in this state. She
was so naïve,
mother called from below.
“We are doing our hair!” Lunamae shouted
back.
“We need to get everything situated and meet
Angharad at the keep to depart soon. Don’t tarry too long,” my
mother said. I watched her through the floorboard cracks; she was
carrying out a chest with the help of Logan who had decided to open
his shop a little later today—after we had all left. They headed
outside to load it up and Lunamae whispered to me.
“Do you think I should give some to Marcus?”
she cooed.
“Give some of what?” I inquired.
“My hair, silly,” Lunamae said as I finished
trimming and began work on the braids. It was rather simple in
design, only three braids that started behind her ear and as I
added hair on either side of the braid, they worked their way on
the left side of her head to her neck.
“You do realize that we are going to Fanarion
to find you a suitable husband, don’t you?” I asked with a smile. I
couldn’t help but grin at Lunamae’s veracity.
“But I don’t want to marry a stranger. I want
to marry someone I love and cherish,” she said. “I like
Marcus.”
“You are being foolish,” I warned, working
nimbly on the other side of her head.
Lunamae sighed with frustration. “Why can’t
things be changed? Why does my mother have to follow
tradition?”
“Because alliances and treaties are what keep
us alive. It connects us to our neighbors,” I explained, twirling
my finger around a lock of hair. I was nearly done with the sides
and began to twist them around her head in a band.
“Kyrie is a neighbor, sort of,” Lunamae
said.
“There are clans nearby that would be more
suitable,” I urged. “It would be different if we traded with Kyrie
but we don’t. Not since the battle. Now I’m done with your hair,
try to finish mine before we go.” We sat in solitude while Lunamae
worked on my hair, attending to it gently. When we were all ready
to go, we carefully carried our leather bags with us and put them
in the sitting area of the coach.
“Can I go say goodbye to Marcus?” Lunamae
asked me. She was of the age where she could be let wander
unattended but in the dungeons I didn’t feel it would be a good
idea. I nodded to her and motioned her forward so she could lead
the way.
When we entered the cell block Lunamae took
out a bit of her hair she had stuffed in an apron pocket. “Marcus?”
she whispered. I heard yawning in a corner. The other prisoners
were still sleeping.
“Lunamae, it’s you? I thought I wasn’t going
to see you before you left.”
“I told you I would see you every day I
could,” she answered softly. She passed the lock of hair into the
cell. Marcus took it gently.
“Your hair?” he wondered, his voice still in
a hushed whisper. It was good he was whispering because over time
his voice had deepened quite a bit.
“Yes, a gift for you. I will instruct the
maiden who will be caring for you when I’m gone to give you a piece
of paper and some ink and a quill. Write to me how you are every
single day and I will read the notes when I get back. Then it will
seem as though I haven’t ever left.” I could tell from her voice
that Lunamae was beginning to develop tears. She wasn’t the only
one.
“That is very generous of you,” Marcus said,
his voice shaky. “You had better leave before your mother catches
you down here. Return to me quickly.” Marcus said but not before he
reached out for her hand. He kissed it through the bars and
continued to hold it as long as he could before we walked away.
We headed up the familiar stairs and walked
out the main level, making sure we found Brynna first. I did stop
for a moment to notice the tapestry on the opposite wall—the one
Lunamae had finished for her mother. It wasn’t nearly as large and
grand as the one the maidens had crafted, but it was a gift from
daughter to mother and it spoke volumes.
It was hard seeing Lunamae in this state. She
was so naïve,
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